- Two Hours Ago -

"You knew?" Zayden asked, waiting for confirmation from the boy.

Eiran nodded without hesitation. "Of course."

Zayden froze. His fingers, which had been resting at his sides, curled into tight fists unconsciously.

Of course, he knew. Why didn’t I ever question him about this? How foolish...

"Since when?"

Eiran hesitated, his gaze flickering downward.

"The moment I saw him? The moment I felt his touch? I’m not sure," he murmured with a small, almost wistful chuckle. His voice was too calm for something that should have been a surprise.

Zayden’s heart sank. It had been a shock to him when he found out, but these two—father and son—had already recognized each other. Was it because they shared the same blood? He was the only one left out. The one who didn’t belong in their family.

"But why didn’t you marry Papa?"

Zayden’s eyes narrowed momentarily. He sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"...And who put that idea in your head?"

"Well, Paul," Eiran replied simply.

What was he supposed to do with this boy who believed everything people told him?

"When I was playing with Jane," Eiran continued, his tone thoughtful. "She said it was her parents’ marriage anniversary that day, so I asked Paul what that was. He said it’s when people who love each other get married, they celebrate that day over the years."

He paused, eyes lifting to lock gaze with Zayden’s.

"Don’t you love Papa? You call me your son... But you didn’t marry him."

Zayden’s jaw clenched. He parted his mouth, about to reply, the answer far too obvious in his mind. But then he pressed his lips tightly.

Ren didn’t reciprocate those feelings.

"You don’t love him?" The boy’s voice rose, wondering if he hadn’t said it loud enough.

Zayden almost laughed—a dry, breathless sound. "I do, you... But your Papa loves someone else."

"What do you mean?"

"Your Papa..." His gaze softened. "Loves your dad."

"But isn’t that you?"

"Your real dad."

Eiran blinked, tilting his head.

"You are my dad. Not someone who isn’t here."

Under normal circumstances, Zayden would have been relieved—happy, even. But now that he knew Eiran’s real father was no longer alive, his chest tightened with an uncontrollable pain and guilt—worse than the day he killed that innocent dragon, letting Hianshu’s schemes succeed.

Once, he had wanted to take that man’s place in Ren’s life. But now that he had done so as the father figure in Eiran’s world, the thought left a sour taste in his mouth and a burning sense of shame.

Just then, the door swung open, catching the two off guard. They turned, finding the very subject of their conversation entering the room.

"Eiran, did you finish your bath?—" Ren cut himself off when he noticed Zayden standing inside the hall.

"Yes!" The boy waved his hand, greeting Ren with a bright smile.

"Go get changed, Eiran," Zayden said, turning to face the child.

Eiran looked between his two fathers. For a moment, he wondered whether to ask why, but then he recalled they were supposed to have dinner with the Emperor and the Empress. He had learned about them from the history books, and just the thought of meeting them in person made his heart race with excitement.

"Alright!" he exclaimed, running toward the dressing room.

"I will go and help him—" Ren, who was about to follow Eiran, stopped when he noticed Zayden reaching into his pocket, pulling something out. He froze, curiosity flickering through his gaze.

The soft clink of metal and gems filled the quiet room.

Zayden’s expression didn’t give much away. His lips curved faintly—neither a smile nor a frown. Even he wasn’t sure what look he wore anymore. He’d sent Eiran away to have this conversation, but now that the moment had come, he wasn’t ready for it.

"Here." He extended the jewelry toward Ren.

Ren blinked, hesitating.

"My Lord?"

"It belongs to you, doesn’t it?"

The answer was obvious, but Zayden asked anyway. He hadn’t meant to keep it; he’d simply been too stunned earlier to return it. When his hand brushed against it in his pocket, he’d realized—he hadn’t been able to let it go.

Ren’s fingers brushed against the anklet, cold against his warm fingertips. His gaze softened, almost painfully so. Even now, his eyes glimmered as he looked at it. Zayden didn’t need to ask whose gift it had been. He already knew. His mate’s.

"Thank you, My Lord," Ren said quietly, smiling—a small, polite curve of the lips. "You... are you not mad?"

"Hmm?"

"I hid so many things from you all these years..."

"Indeed."

Ren didn’t speak for a moment. Then he parted his lips. "Are you not mad at me, My Lord?"

Zayden drew in a slow breath. "Oh, Ren," he cut himself off midway. "Had it been someone else, I would have. I’m sure I should have gotten mad..." he mumbled. "But I couldn’t raise my voice at you—couldn’t even scold you," he added, smiling bitterly.

Before Ren could respond, Zayden continued, too afraid it would be something he didn’t wish to hear.

"You should get ready too. We’re going to have dinner with the Emperor and the Empress."

Ren’s eyes didn’t lift from the anklet. "Why?"

Zayden hesitated, then said flatly, "Because you’re the father of the child they know as their grandson."

Ren’s head snapped up. He blinked, stunned, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. "You are going to tell them I am Eiran’s father? Without even confirming it?"

"Do I need to?" Zayden’s tone was calm—too calm. "I trust you."

For a moment, Ren only stared at him, words caught in his throat. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Zayden turned his gaze away, his voice dropping low.

"Don’t make me regret it."

He didn’t say the rest. That he already felt like he was losing something he never had. That trusting Ren so easily made him feel both reckless and alive.

How undemonic of me.

He thought bitterly.

Because demons didn’t surrender what they wanted—least of all their mates. And Zayden was no different. Yet, he would rather burn alive than behave like a demon—possessive, selfish and disgusting.

Ren’s shoulders stiffened. Guilt came crashing down on his chest—again. But this time, it wasn’t the guilt of causing someone’s death; it was the guilt of being the reason someone might never trust again.

Zayden trusted him.

He trusted him—the man whose head he had once wanted to cut off and place at the Emperor’s feet.

Chills ran down his spine. How would he face himself when the veil lifted from all these dark secrets—the ones he had buried so deeply within himself?

But that didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t matter.

Eiran was the most important person in his life. And now that everything had been cleared, now that Zayden knew Eiran was his son, he wouldn’t try to separate them.

Now... he just needed to handle the delegation. Meet Henry and Loti, and let them know before they report anything related to him to the higher-ups.

After all, they surely recognized me. But why didn’t they try to talk to me yet?