Kyel called softly, his voice still laced with lingering worry.

  “Eva.”

  Eva turned toward him at once. She rose from the couch, smoothing the folds of her dress before walking gracefully to his side. A gentle smile curved her lips.

  “Honey, you’re back.”

  Kyel studied her face carefully, searching for any sign of weakness. “When did you wake up?”

  “About an hour ago,” Eva replied lightly. “I feel much better now.”

  Though her smile was steady, her heart still beat faster than usual.

  Her gaze then shifted to the woman standing beside him. “Honey… who is she?”

  Kyel stepped slightly aside.

  “She is a physician. I brought her to examine you.”

  He looked toward the woman with seriousness.

  “Lady Virel, this is my wife—the one I mentioned earlier. She had been feeling unwell since morning and suddenly fainted in the market. Please examine her thoroughly.”

  The woman inclined her head with quiet confidence. “Of course. Leave it to me.”

  She stepped forward and offered a respectful bow.

  “My name is Helena Virel,” she said in a composed, professional tone. “I serve as a licensed physician under the Imperial Medical Guild.”

  Her presence carried the calm authority of someone well-trained in the healing arts.

  Eva returned the greeting politely.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Virel....my name is Eva.” She lowered her head slightly in courtesy.

  Eva looked up at Kyel, her smile soft but slightly strained. “Honey… why a full examination? You didn’t need to bring a physician. I’m perfectly fine now.”

  Kyel’s expression did not soften. “You fainted without warning,” he said firmly. “And we still don’t know the reason.” There was no room for argument in his tone—only concern tightly restrained. “Let her examine you. That way we can determine the cause.”

  Then he turned toward the physician. “Lady Virel, the bedroom is upstairs. Please conduct the examination there.”

  Helena inclined her head respectfully. “Very well.”

  She turned to Eva with professional calm. “Lady Eva, if you would please come with me.”

  Though her grip was gentle, there was quiet authority in the way she reached for Eva’s hand and guided her toward the staircase.

  Eva cast one quick glance toward Leo before moving.

  Then she turned her head slightly toward the couch. “Aranel… come with me.”

  Aranel rose immediately. “Of course.”

  Without hesitation, she followed behind Helena and Eva as they ascended the stairs together.

  Downstairs, silence settled in the room.

  Kyel remained standing, his jaw tight.

  Leo stood quietly near the doorway, watching.

  __________________________________

  (After fifteen minutes…)

  The bedroom door opened with a soft click.

  Helena stepped out first, composed and dignified, her satchel held neatly in her hand. Eva followed behind her, graceful as ever, with Aranel at her side.

  Kyel had been standing near the foot of the stairs the entire time.

  The moment he saw Helena, he moved forward.

  “Lady Virel,” he asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice, “how is she? Is my wife well?”

  Helena inclined her head respectfully. “Sir, your wife is perfectly well. There is no grave illness.”

  Kyel exhaled — but only slightly.

  “She fainted due to fatigue, insufficient nourishment, and emotional strain. Her pulse was somewhat weakened, likely from overexertion and stress.”

  Kyel frowned. “Stress?”

  His gaze shifted past Helena to Eva, who stood quietly behind her, fingers lightly clasped before her.

  He stepped closer.

  “Eva… you were under stress?” His voice softened. “Why? Is there something troubling you? Why did you not tell me?”

  Eva blinked at him, caught for half a second off guard by the genuine worry in his eyes.

  “I—” She offered a small, almost sheepish smile. “It was nothing serious. I may have overthought a few things… and I skipped breakfast in the morning.”

  Kyel’s brows drew together. “You skipped breakfast?”

  Helena spoke gently but firmly. “She must not do so again. Her body requires steady strength. I will prepare a herbal tonic to fortify her blood and calm her nerves. She must rest and avoid unnecessary agitation.”

  Kyel nodded at once. “She will rest.”

  His tone left no room for argument. Then he looked back at Eva, his expression softening.

  “If something burdens you, you must tell me. Do not carry it alone.”

  Behind Eva, Aranel subtly turned her face away to hide the flicker of amusement in her eyes.

  If only he knew what Eva was truly carrying.

  Eva stepped closer to her husband and gently held his sleeve.

  “I promise,” she said softly.

  Helena observed the exchange quietly — the refined manner of the man, the devotion in his gaze. For a fleeting moment, she felt something unusual about this household. But she said nothing.

  Instead, she gave a polite nod. “I shall take my leave, sir.”

  Kyel straightened. “Thank you, Lady Virel. You have my gratitude.”

  Then Kyel moved toward the bag he had brought from the palace. He opened it calmly, then pulled out a heavy pouch—so full of gold coins that the soft clinking echoed through the hall.

  He turned to Helena and held it out.

  “Lady Virel,” Kyel said, “this is for your work.”

  Helena accepted it, but the moment the weight sank into her hands, her eyes widened.

  “Sir… this is too much—”

  “Please take it,” Kyel interrupted gently. “You came here personally. This is not too much.”

  Helena hesitated, then lowered her head. “…Thank you, sir.”

  She turned toward Eva, her voice kind. “Lady Eva, take care of yourself. And if you feel sick again, please call me.”

  Eva smiled warmly. “I will, Lady Virel. Thank you for your work.”

  With that, Helena left the house.

  The door closed, and silence filled the hall.

  Kyel turned back to Eva. He stepped forward, arms lifting slightly—wanting to hold her, needing to. But he stopped the moment he remembered they were not alone. The moment of hesitation was brief, almost invisible…

  But Luca noticed. Of course he did.

  A knowing look flickered across his face, and he spoke smoothly, saving Kyel from his own restraint.

  “Then, Eyan,” Luca said lightly, “now that you are here, we should take our leave.”

  He glanced at Aranel and Leo. “Let’s go.”

  Eva’s eyes widened, her voice immediately soft with disappointment. “You all are leaving already? Please stay a little longer.”

  Aranel shook her head, her tone firm but caring. “No, Eva. We should go now… you need rest too.”

  Eva’s gaze shifted toward Leo—toward .

  Her expression softened. “Alen… thank you for your help too…” she said quietly.

  Then she leaned closer, her voice lowering into a whisper meant only for him. “Let’s meet again tomorrow.”

  Leo’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. His eyes gleamed with silent amusement.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He bowed gracefully.

  “Then good night, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice smooth. “Please take care of yourself… and remember to eat more.”

  Eva nodded, her smile gentle. “I will.”

  Leo lifted his hand.

  A glowing teleportation circle bloomed beneath the feet of Leo, Luca, and Aranel, ancient symbols spinning like silver flames. The air hummed with power.

  Leo looked at Eva one last time. A quiet smile.

  Then the light flared.

  And in the next heartbeat, all three vanished from the hall.

  Silence returned.

  The moment they were gone, Kyel flicked his finger and deactivated the disguise spell.

  Then, without hesitation, he stepped forward, gently grabbed Eva’s arm, and pulled her into a tight embrace. His hand wrapped securely around her waist, holding her close as if he had been starving for her warmth. His face buried into her shoulder, breathing her in like she was the only thing that could calm him.

  Eva smiled softly and hugged him back, her arms circling him with ease.

  Eyan’s voice came out low, almost broken. “…I can finally hold you.”

  Eva let out a small laugh, her fingers brushing through his hair. “You were waiting for everyone to go.”

  Eyan hummed against her shoulder, tightening his grip.

  “Hmm…” he murmured. “I wanted to hug my wife so badly.”

  For a few moments, they stayed like that—silent, wrapped in each other, the world outside their embrace completely forgotten.

  Then slowly, Eyan pulled back. His hands moved up to her face, cupping her cheeks with a tenderness that made Eva’s breath hitch. His thumb brushed softly along her cheek.

  His gaze turned serious.

  “Eva…” he whispered. “Can you stop making me worry?”

  Eva blinked.

  Eyan’s voice lowered further, filled with fear he couldn’t hide.

  “Please don’t get sick. I was scared when you fainted suddenly in the market.”

  Eva sighed, her smile gentle as she held his wrist.

  “You worry too much, honey,” she murmured. “I’m not sick… it was only a little weakness.”

  Eva hesitated before saying.

  “It happened because…” she began, then forced herself to speak more clearly, “…my monthly cycle. It came today.”

  Eyan blinked.

  For a moment relief flashed in his eyes—but it was quickly replaced by deeper worry.

  “Your monthly cycle?” he repeated, his voice tense. “Eva… then why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  Eva gave a small shrug, trying to act unbothered. “It’s nothing unusual,” she said lightly.

  But Eyan’s brows pulled together.

  “It is unusual,” he said firmly. “You collapsed in the middle of the market.”

  He lifted a hand, his fingers brushing her cheek with a tenderness that made her heart tighten.

  “Does it hurt badly?” he asked, his voice soft now. “Are you bleeding too much?”

  Eva’s eyes widened. “No, it’s not like that—”

  Eyan didn’t let her finish.

  “And why was it late this time?” he questioned, his tone sharper, not accusing—just afraid. “Your body doesn’t delay without reason.”

  Eva shifted nervously, forcing a small smile as she tried to sound natural.

  “It… it is late,” she murmured. “That’s why my body is in a weak state right now.”

  Eyan’s brows tightened in concern.

  Without thinking, he placed his hand gently over her lower stomach.

  Eva’s breath caught instantly.

  Her body stiffened for the briefest moment—because his warm palm rested exactly where their child lay hidden, silent and fragile beneath her skin.

  Eyan’s voice softened into a whisper. “Is the ache here?” he asked. “In your lower belly?”

  His thumb moved slowly, as if trying to soothe her.

  “Tell me the truth,” he murmured. “Are you suffering? Do you feel cramps? Dizziness?”

  His eyes lifted to hers, filled with worry and helplessness.

  “Should I call the physician back?” he asked quietly. “Or bring warm cloths… herbs… anything?”

  Eva swallowed, shaking her head quickly. “No… I’m not in pain—"

  Suddenly—

  Grrrrrrr…

  A loud growl echoed through the quiet room.

  Eva froze.

  Her cheeks flushed crimson in an instant.

  She looked away, embarrassed, then muttered quickly, “I’m not in pain… but I’m starving right now.”

  For a second, Eyan stared at her.

  Then he let out a warm laugh, the tension in his shoulders finally easing.

  “Come here,” he said, his voice gentle.

  He guided her to the couch and made her sit down.

  “Sit here,” Eyan ordered softly. “I’ll make dinner.”

  Eva pouted faintly, but her eyes were smiling.

  “What do you want to eat?” he asked.

  Eva shrugged. “Anything is fine… you can decide.”

  Eyan’s lips curved into a small smile. “Alright.”

  Then he turned and walked toward the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves—already preparing himself to cook, as if feeding her was the only thing that mattered in the world.

  __________________________________

  (Night)

  Eyan had made dinner, and they ate together quietly—Eva smiling more than she spoke, Eyan watching her more than he ate. Afterward, he insisted on cleaning the dishes despite her sleepy protests.

  By the time he entered the bedroom, the lamps were dim.

  Eva was already fast asleep.

  She lay on her side, her back turned to him, her breathing soft and steady. A small smile touched Eyan’s lips at the sight.

  He changed quietly and slipped into bed beside her.

  Carefully, so as not to wake her, he scooted closer. He lifted her head gently and rested it on his arm, turning her slightly so her back pressed against his chest.

  Eva stirred faintly but did not wake.

  Eyan slid his other arm around her waist, his palm settling protectively over her belly, and pulled her closer.

  She fit against him perfectly.

  He pressed his face into her hair, breathing in her warmth.

  Only then did his body finally relax.

  His eyes closed.—

  And the dream came.

  __________________________________

  (Dream)

  When Eyan opened his eyes again, the air around him felt thick — heavy with something ancient and familiar. His brows slowly knit together as he looked around.

  “…Why am I having this dream again?”

  The words left his lips in a low murmur.

  He knew this place. He had seen it before. When he was ten.

  The sky above him roiled with shadowed clouds, and the wind howled like a warning. A distant thunder cracked—

  —and then he saw .

  High in the darkened sky, a colossal black form cut through the air.

  The Dragon King.

  Massive wings stretched across the heavens, each beat sending violent gusts through the dreamscape. His scales shimmered like obsidian, and his piercing blue eyes—

  —locked directly onto Eyan’s red ones.

  Eyan’s breath hitched.

  His heart slammed violently against his ribs.

  Zeradros began to turn.

  Toward him.

  Without thinking, Eyan stumbled back, then turned and ran. Panic clawed up his throat as his feet pounded against the ground—but something was wrong.

  He wasn’t getting anywhere. It was like running through thick water. His steps grew heavier— Slower—

  Then his foot caught.

  Eyan crashed hard onto the ground.

  Before he could even push himself up— A massive shadow fell over him. Slowly… hesitantly… Eyan turned his head.

  Zeradros’ enormous face loomed inches away. Those ancient blue eyes watched him silently.

  Eyan’s chest heaved.

  “Stay away from me!” he shouted, fear sharp in his voice. “Don’t come close… I don’t like you…!”

  His fingers dug into the ground.

  “Why are you inside my dream again?” His voice trembled despite his effort to steady it. “What do you want from me—”

  Zeradros moved closer.

  Instinctively, Eyan squeezed his eyes shut.

  And then—

  A soft voice cut through the tension like light through fog.

  “Eyan… what are you doing here?”

  His eyes snapped open. Everything in him froze. Eva stood there. Right beside Zeradros.

  For a moment, even the wind seemed to still.

  Zeradros’ massive head slowly turned toward her at the sound of her voice… and then, with an almost eerie gentleness, the Dragon King began moving toward her.

  Eyan’s blood ran cold. “No… no…”

  He pushed himself up urgently, panic flooding every vein.

  “Eva, don’t—!”

  But she wasn’t afraid. Not even a little.

  Zeradros circled her slowly, his enormous body moving with strange restraint, as if wary of frightening her. Eva only watched him with a soft, curious smile.

  Then—

  She lifted her hand.

  Eyan’s voice broke. “NO! Eva, don’t touch him! Stay away from him—!”

  Too late.

  Her fingers brushed Zeradros’ massive head. A sudden glow burst between them.

  Light swallowed the dragon’s colossal form—

  —and in the next heartbeat—

  A tiny Black Dragon flapped clumsily in the air.

  Eyan froze.

  His voice came out hoarse. “…What’s happening?”

  The little dragon chirped softly, circling Eva playfully. She laughed — light, warm, completely at ease — as the tiny creature hovered near her shoulder.

  Then she looked at Eyan. Her eyes were bright. Gentle.

  She smiled. “Honey… look who’s here… he is our so—”

  Eyan’s eyes flew open before Eva could finish her words.

  The dream shattered.

  His chest rose and fell in harsh, uneven breaths as reality crashed back into him. For a moment, the shadows of the dream still clung to his vision — Zeradros’ blue eyes, Eva’s outstretched hand—

  Eyan’s head snapped to the side.

  The bed was empty.

  Completely empty.

  Fear struck him like lightning.

  “…Eva.”

  He was already moving.

  Eyan shoved the covers aside and stumbled out of bed too fast, his legs unsteady beneath him. He nearly lost his balance but caught himself on the bedpost, breath hitching sharply.

  Then he ran Out of the bedroom. Each step heavier with rising panic.

  “Eva—!” His voice came out rough, strained. “Where are you?!”

  A soft voice answered from the kitchen. “Honey?”

  Eyan froze for half a second— Then rushed toward the sound.

  Eva stood by the counter, calmly stirring something in a small pot, completely unaware of the storm that had just torn through him.

  Relief hit him so violently it almost hurt. He crossed the distance in long, urgent strides and pulled her straight into his arms.

  Tightly. Desperately.

  Eva blinked in surprise, her hand still holding the spoon mid-air. “…Eyan?”

  His voice came out low, shaken against her hair. “Why did you touch him?”

  She frowned, clearly confused, and tilted her head back to look at his face. Only then did she notice the faint fear still lingering in his eyes.

  “Touch who…?” she asked softly. “And why are you looking so scared… did you have a nightmare or something?”

  His arms tightened around her. “…Yes,” he admitted quietly. “It was a nightmare.”

  Eva’s expression softened instantly. Her free hand came up and gently rested against his back.

  “Don’t be scared,” she whispered warmly. “I’m here.”

  For a moment, Eyan didn’t move.

  He simply stood there, holding her — grounding himself in her warmth, in her voice, in the steady rhythm of her breathing. Slowly… slowly… the wild pounding of his heart began to settle.

  Then something shifted.

  Eyan pulled back sharply. His gaze dropped. The spoon in her hand. The small pot still simmering on the stove.

  His brows drew together.

  “Eva,” he said, voice low but edged with concern, “what are you doing in the kitchen in the middle of the night?”

  Eva blinked once, then answered simply, “I’m making something to eat… I’m hungry.”

  Eyan stared at her. “…Hungry? But you had dinner not so long ago.”

  Eva’s lips pushed into a small pout, her cheeks puffing slightly.

  “I did,” she admitted, almost defensively. “But I’m hungry again.”

  A quiet exhale left him. Without another word, Eyan reached forward and gently took the spoon from her hand. The small action made Eva look up at him in surprise.

  “If you were hungry,” he said, his tone softening but still firm, “you should have woken me. Why did you come to the kitchen alone?”

  Eva’s fingers fidgeted lightly against her dress. “I didn’t want to disturb your sleep…”

  Something unreadable flickered across Eyan’s eyes. His voice came out quieter this time — but more serious.

  “Don’t do that next time.”

  Eva looked up.

  “If you are hungry,” he continued, gaze steady on her face, “wake me up without hesitation.”

  A small pause.

  Then Eva nodded obediently. “…Okay.”

  __________________________________

  A few minutes later, Eva sat at the dining table, swinging her feet slightly under the chair. Eyan placed the bowl of warm soup in front of her. Steam curled gently into the air. Eva didn’t wait.

  She immediately picked up the spoon and began eating with clear enthusiasm, the earlier sleepiness completely gone. Quiet little sounds of satisfaction escaped her between bites.

  Eyan sat across from her.

  Silent.

  Watching.

  Eva, completely focused on her food, didn’t notice the weight of his stare.

  By the time she finished, the bowl was spotless.

  Only then did Eyan finally stand. Without a word, he reached out his hand toward her. Eva looked at it… then at him… and placed her hand in his. Together, they returned upstairs. Back to the bedroom.

  This time, when they lay down, Eyan pulled her closer almost immediately — one arm secure around her waist, firm and protective.

  Only after feeling her settle against him did his eyes finally close again.

  And this time…

  Sleep came quieter.

  __________________________________

  (Next Day — Royal Palace of Velmoria)

  (Emperor’s Study)

  Eyan sat behind his grand desk, posture straight, expression coldly focused. His red eyes moved line by line over the documents before him, the feathered quill gliding smoothly in his hand.

  Work. Endless work.

  It was the only thing keeping last night’s dream from clawing back into his thoughts.

  Scratch.

  Scratch.

  Scratch—

  BANG!

  The study doors slammed open so violently they struck the wall. Eyan jolted in his chair, the quill jerking sharply and leaving a crooked line of ink across the page.

  His eyes snapped up, already darkening.

  “Hans,” Eyan said sharply, voice edged with warning, “what is the meaning of this—”

  Hans stumbled inside, clearly out of breath, his usually neat appearance slightly disheveled. He bent forward, hands on his knees, struggling to speak.

  “Your— your majesty—” he panted. “Hurry— you need to come—”

  Eyan’s brows drew together in irritation. “Compose yourself and speak properly.”

  Hans straightened abruptly, still breathing hard, eyes wide with panic. “He came to meet you!”

  Eyan’s irritation deepened. “…Who came to meet me?”

  Hans swallowed.

  Then blurted— “Your son!”

  Silence fell.

  Complete.

  Utter.

  The quill slipped from Eyan’s fingers and rolled slowly across the desk.

  His face went completely blank.

  “…My what?”

  .

  .

  To be continued—