Chapter. Thirty_seven

The palace is teeming with people. Usually, events of such grandeur—especially ones involving the royal family—are strictly regulated, but today is an exception.

The grief-stricken faces of Sabia's people reflect their collective sorrow as they gather to pay their respects to their beloved former king.

Madin stands in the crowd, lost in the sea of mourners. From his position in the middle of the throng, he can barely see the front where the ceremony is taking place.

Yet, when Arthur's voice carries through the air, even without seeing him, Madin’s knees nearly give out.

The raw emotion in Arthur’s voice cuts through him like a blade. Every word spoken resonates with pain, and it’s unbearable for Madin.

His heart screams to rush to Arthur’s side, to hold him, to offer comfort. But he knows he can’t.

"I have lost two men who meant the world to me , both without a chance to say goodbye. I don't know how to move on from that. Perhaps one day I might be lucky enough to meet with the one that am hoping is alive , because only then I might regain a sense of peace. Until then , I will rely on you, the people of Sabia, to hold me up as I strive to be the leader that your beloved King Elias nurtured me to be. I vow to—"

Arthur’s voice fades from Madin’s ears as he feels a small hand clutch his leg. Startled, he looks down, hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks.

A young boy dressed in expensive robes clings to him, his innocent face peering up curiously.

Narrowing his eyes, Madin feels his breath catch. The boy’s features are hauntingly familiar. He can’t help but see Arthur’s likeness in the child, a resemblance so strong it takes his breath away.

“Marsel,” Paul whispers, kneeling beside the boy. “He looks like he’s from the royal family.”

The little boy ignores Paul entirely, burying his face against Madin’s leg.

Madin kneels down, gently patting the child’s hair. “Hello,” he says softly.

The boy looks up, his expression serious. “Toilet,” he announces.

“What?” Madin asks, puzzled.

“I need to pee,” the boy clarifies, his small voice firm.

Madin glances around in confusion, wondering why such a young child is wandering around alone.

Before he can decide what to do, a breathless servant appears, rushing toward them.

“Thank you, sir, for keeping him here. Prince Adriana has been running around all morning, giving everyone a hard time,” the woman says, bowing slightly to Madin before turning to the boy. “Prince Adriana, come with me. It’s time to rejoin your family.”

Prince Adriana? This must be Arthur’s son—the child born on the night I fled the palace.

His emotions surge uncontrollably, memories flooding his mind.

The boy refuses to budge. “Toilet,” he repeats stubbornly, shaking his head. People around them begin to murmur, while the ceremony continues up front.

The servant sighs in frustration. “If you want to use the toilet, then come on. I’ll take you there,” she says, attempting to lead the boy away. But he clings to Madin’s garments with surprising strength.

“Fine,” Madin relents, allowing the boy to pull him forward. The servant leads the way toward the main mansion , Madin’s heart pounding with every step.

Memories he had fought so hard to suppress resurface, threatening to overwhelm him.

They arrive at a room just opposite Arthur’s old chambers—a room that had been abandoned since the day Madin left.

The servant opens the door, and Madin steps inside with the boy. Once Adriana is done, he refuses to leave, instead pulling out a worn storybook from his bed and handing it to Madin.

“Read. I listen,” the boy commands, his tone brooking no argument.

The servant sighs, clearly exasperated. “Oh, heavens, what am I going to do with him? He’s so stubborn! His sister is sitting obediently, but he insists on running around. King Arthur specifically instructed that the children stay with the royal family, and now this! I’ll be in so much trouble if I can’t get him back there.”

Madin freezes. Sister? He stares at the servant, his thoughts spinning. Arthur had another child? Is it still with that Catherina woman or with someone else!?

“There’s a princess too?” he asks absentmindedly.

The servant gives him a quizzical look. “Yes, of course. Didn’t you know? Prince Adriana and Princess Aria are twins.”

“Twins?” Madin echoes, the word almost a whisper. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t been there to know.

And it relieves him because he thought Arthur was with someone else or rather he had another baby with Catherina.

“Read,” Adriana insists, shoving the book toward him.

Madin places the book aside, kneeling in front of the boy. Gently, he holds the child’s small shoulders. “How about this? Let’s go see your father first. You sit obediently like a good boy, and after that, I promise I’ll read to you. Deal?”

The boy hesitates, his lips pursing in thought. When Madin adds, “Good boy,” Adriana’s face lights up. Without another word, he dashes toward the door.

At that moment, Arthur steps into the mansion, seeking a moment of solitude after his emotionally charged speech.

Overwhelmed, he often retreats to his children’s rooms, finding comfort in their presence.

Adriana, running toward the door, collides with his father. Before the boy can fall, Madin instinctively reaches out to steady him. “Careful,” he murmurs, “don’t run like this. It’s dangerous.”

He says before even looking for what made the prince to almost fall.

And when Madin’s eyes lift, his breath catches. Standing before him is Arthur, his tall frame filling the doorway. His gaze lock into Arthur's, and in that instant, time seems to freeze.

Madin tries to look away but finds himself powerless, his heart racing as memories, emotions, and unspoken words swirl in him.