The Omega Knight's Secret Baby Daddy is A PRINCE?!-Chapter 50: Almost Peaceful.

"I..."

Ezra looked up at Helios, words hovering at the edge of his tongue. He was ready to lie. Ready to brush it off. It wouldn’t make sense for him to fall apart over a child. Not in front of a prince.

But then he saw Helios’s eyes.

Gold.

It was shining with genuine worry.

And something in Ezra loosened.

He let himself crumble.

Just a little.

"...can’t believe this happened."

Helios’s hand stayed warm on his shoulder.

"It was an accident, Ezra. And it wasn’t your fault." His thumb moved in a slow, grounding motion. "I didn’t even know what a sugar crash was until today. The doctor said it isn’t common, especially in a kingdom where children grow up eating sweets."

Helios was right.

Ezra knew that.

But the guilt didn’t ease.

"This is only the second time he’s ever gotten sick," Ezra admitted quietly. "And the first time, I told myself it would never happen again."

"Second time?"

"Yes."

"Really?" Helios blinked. "Not even a common cold?"

Ezra shook his head. "Not even that."

Helios’s brows lifted in clear surprise. "That’s unusual."

"Hm?"

"I haven’t met a child without golden blood who’s only fallen sick twice in his life."

Ezra went still.

’Shit.’

He felt it immediately. The slip.

He had forgotten, just for a moment, that Lior’s resilience wasn’t normal. That it came from something Helios would recognize if he looked too closely.

Ezra cleared his throat, forcing himself to stay calm.

"He’s from a different kingdom," he said smoothly. "The place I stayed was mostly fresh air and open land. He was outside constantly. He loves the cold, so he rarely catches anything. And we mostly ate healthy food."

Helios considered that, then nodded slowly. "That makes sense."

Relief loosened the tightness in Ezra’s chest.

’Careful,’ he warned himself. ’Don’t get sloppy...not right now.’

"So what happened the first time?" Helios asked.

Ezra exhaled.

"When he was two," he began, then corrected himself quickly, "the first few months after I met him."

The lie came easily now. "It was also because of something he ingested."

Helios tilted his head. "Oh?"

"I taught him about raindrop flowers," Ezra said.

Recognition flickered in Helios’s eyes.

Of course he knew them.

Everyone from Luxaelis did. Flowers that caught rain in their petals, holding droplets that sometimes tasted sweet, sometimes salty, sometimes bitter depending on the bloom.

"I forgot to tell him," Ezra continued quietly, "that not every flower works like that."

He looked down at his hands.

"There had been heavy rain that day. He saw different flowers still holding water and decided to try them." His jaw tightened faintly. "Several of them."

Helios’s expression darkened with understanding.

"One of them was mildly poisonous," Ezra finished. "Not deadly. But enough."

"How bad?" Helios asked softly.

"Two weeks," Ezra replied. "He kept throwing up. Couldn’t keep anything down. He cried every night." His throat tightened. "I couldn’t do anything except hold him and wait for it to pass."

’He was so small,’ Ezra thought, the memory rising sharp and unwelcome. ’So small and burning up in my arms.’

It broke his heart.

"I felt..." He paused, searching for the word. "Overwhelming guilt."

Helios didn’t interrupt.

"After that," Ezra said, voice low, "I swore nothing like that would ever happen again."

His gaze drifted to Lior on the bed.

"And today," he murmured, "it did."

Helios didn’t withdraw his hand. If anything, his grip tightened just slightly, thumb brushing once against Ezra’s shoulder as if to anchor him there.

"Mistakes like that happen, Ezra," he said quietly. "Even my father and mother weren’t perfect."

The king and the former queen?

Ezra’s thoughts flickered.

Did they ever raise Helios personally? As far as Ezra knew, Helios was handed to tutors and maids the moment he could walk.

Still... They were the closest example Helios had of parents.

And even they had flaws.

Ezra let out a slow breath through his nose, exhaustion settling deep into his bones.

Helios continued, voice distant, almost reflective.

"When I was younger, I used to overhear the older maids talking in the corridors. About their children. About how they forgot things. How they missed signs. How they blamed themselves for fevers, for bruises, for accidents that weren’t really their fault."

He paused. "Some even blamed themselves for deaths."

That word lingered.

Ezra felt something twist sharply in his chest.

’Why is he talking about parents so much?’

A flicker of unease crept in. ’Does he suspect something?’

He kept his expression steady, careful, but his pulse had quickened beneath his skin.

’Am I being too obvious?’

Helios’s gaze softened as he looked down at Lior again. The tension in his features eased, replaced with something gentler.

"Imagine," Helios said softly, "you’re not even his parent."

Ezra’s heart stumbled.

He forced himself not to react.

"And he has only fallen sick twice," Helios continued. "You’ve done better than most actual parents who have raised their children from birth. And even then, we cannot shame them for not being perfect."

The tension inside Ezra snapped.

Relief rushed through him so fast it almost left him lightheaded.

He doesn’t know.

’Thank Aurethys.’

There was no suspicion in Helios’s tone. No probing edge. Only admiration.

Respect.

Ezra swallowed, throat tight.

"...Thank you," he said quietly.

The words were simple, but they felt heavy. Earnest.

Helios smiled at him then.

Not the bright, princely smile meant for court. Not the confident grin he wore before knights.

This one was smaller. Softer. Warmer.

It made something fragile stir in Ezra’s chest.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

They stood side by side, looking at the small figure resting on the bed. Lior’s breathing was even now, cheeks faintly flushed, one hand curled near his face as if reaching for something in a dream.

Helios stepped closer to the bed and adjusted the blanket with careful hands, tucking it beneath Lior’s chin as if he had done it a hundred times before. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost instinctive.

"He’s resilient," Helios murmured. "You can see it. I can see it, and I’ve only known him for a few days."

Ezra’s gaze drifted from Lior to Helios.

Helios was looking at the boy with something soft in his eyes.

Not curiosity. Not obligation. Something quieter.

Almost fond.

Almost protective.

’What else are you thinking?’ Ezra wondered silently.

The warm lamplight caught in Helios’s golden eyes, turning them molten.

He stood there as if the chaos from earlier had never existed, as if the horde, the king, the politics, the expectations had all been pushed outside this room.

For a moment, everything felt still.

No problems.

No looming battles.

No secrets clawing at Ezra’s throat.

Just the three of them in a quiet chamber.

It was almost...peaceful.

Ezra found himself studying Helios without meaning to. The sharp line of his jaw softened by the light. The way his shoulders eased when he was near Lior. The way his voice lowered around children, even when they were not his responsibility.

You don’t even know, Ezra thought. And you still look at him like that.

The ache in his chest deepened.

"You would’ve been a good father," Ezra whispered before he could stop himself.

The words slipped out raw and unguarded.

Helios stilled.

He turned his head slightly, catching Ezra staring at him. "What?" he asked lightly, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

Ezra blinked, the realization hitting him a second too late.

’Idiot.’

He looked away almost immediately, clearing his throat. "Nothing."

Nothing.

For Helios’ and Lior’s sake.

Nothing.

· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

It was dark.

Not the heavy kind of dark that swallowed everything whole. Just quiet darkness. The kind that came from lamps being lowered and curtains half-drawn.

How long had it been?

’Did I fall asleep?’

Ezra blinked slowly, awareness returning in fragments. His cheek was pressed against something warm and uneven. His forearms. The faint scent of clean sheets and medicinal herbs lingered in the air.

He must have.

After that moment with Helios... after the doctor left... after everything settled into silence.

Helios had excused himself eventually. Something about finalizing preparations for tomorrow’s meeting. His voice had been reluctant, but duty always won.

Ezra had stayed.

He remembered sitting on the edge of Lior’s bed, fingers loosely curled against the mattress, watching his son breathe.

And then nothing.

A dull ache throbbed at the base of his neck. His shoulders felt stiff. His arms are slightly numb.

’Terrible position,’ he thought groggily. ’Of all the ways to sleep...’

His head had been buried in his forearms, folded over the side of the bed like a guard dog who refused to leave his post.

To think, he was a knight.

Ezra inhaled slowly and began to lift his head.

And then—

"Ezra’s tired, little one. I think you should let him rest for a while."

The voice was low. Gentle.

Ezra tensed up.

"Who...you? What’s your name? You’re the prince...?"