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Chapter Text

That core dynamic—King Jay's sole love for the pregnant Consort Jungwon, set against the political backdrop of the court and the Empress—gives the story a powerful central conflict.

The stone corridors of Kensington Palace, usually a stage for elegant silence and swift-footed servants, seemed to vibrate with a suppressed energy the morning after King Jay’s decree. The decision was not yet public, but the immediate movement of staff—the summoning of the Royal Physician, Dr. Lio, to the Empress’s wing, the increased security detail around Consort Jungwon’s chambers—had sent whispers skittering faster than mice through the palace walls.

Jungwon, now entering his fourth week,felt the palace’s focus like a physical weight. The soft, protective cocoon Jay had tried to weave around him was fraying under the harsh light of political necessity. He sat in his sun-drenched private parlor, his gaze fixed on the small, almost imperceptible curve of his belly, a curve that felt suddenly visible to the entire world.

A new wave of attendants had been assigned to him: two specialized nurses, a private taster for his meals, and an old, stern, but fiercely loyal lady-in-waiting named Madam Han. They treated him with a terrifying blend of deference and anxiety. Every yawn, every mild discomfort, every change in appetite was recorded in a leather-bound ledger as if the health of the realm were contingent on his morning sickness.

He missed the uncomplicated days of secret romance, when his greatest fear was being discovered by a chamberlain. Now, the discovery was complete, and the fear had mutated into something colder, something about succession and knives wielded not by hand, but by statute.

King Jay had spent a restless night, dividing his time between the two wings. He was desperate to assure Jungwon, his true love, that the plan was merely a political shield.

"It changes nothing of my heart, my dear one," Jay had murmured, kneeling beside Jungwon’s bed well past midnight, his regal mask discarded for the look of a worried man.

“Sunghoon is a man of duty, nothing more. He is providing the North with a promise written on paper. You are providing me with a future written in blood and love. That is the difference."

But the difference felt negligible to Jungwon. The existence of a competing pregnancy—a guaranteed royal pregnancy sanctioned by the political elite—diminished the singularity of his own. His child, conceived in passion, was now just the first of two potential insurance policies, rather than the undisputed single focus of the kingdom.

He knew that Jay meant every word, but he also knew that the King was now bound to the Empress in a new, intimate, and profoundly stressful obligation. That morning, Jay had been forced to share the royal breakfast table with Sunghoon to discuss the meticulous schedules required by Dr. Lio, leaving Jungwon alone to face the silent, judging presence of his new retinue.

••••

Meanwhile, in the pristine, minimalist chambers of Empress Sunghoon, the atmosphere was one of detached scientific calculation. Dr. Lio, a precise man whose spectacles magnified his intense concentration, had laid out the process with professional ruthlessness.

"Your Majesty, the preparations are complete,"

Dr. Lio stated, closing his medical case with a soft click that seemed to echo through the expansive room.

“The medical and, shall we say, technical aspects are all in place. It is a matter of precise timing and execution."

Sunghoon stood by a window overlooking the formal French gardens, their geometrical precision mirroring his own calculated demeanor. He wore a heavy silk dressing gown, but his posture was military-straight.

"And the success rate, Doctor?"

Sunghoon asked, his voice flat, devoid of the natural hope or apprehension a prospective parent might feel.

"Historically, with our methods, it is quite high, Empress. Given the King's robust health and your own excellent constitution, I project an over ninety percent chance of a viable pregnancy within three attempts."

"Ninety percent. Acceptable," replied, turning to face the Doctor. His face was pale, his eyes heavy from lack of true rest, but his resolve was iron. He was not worried about the child's health, but about the political timetable.

“The Privy Council meets tomorrow. I need to give them not an attempt, but a strong likelihood, a political inevitability. I need them to see two equal shadows cast upon the throne."

He dismissed the Doctor and then, with a sigh that seemed to drain the last of his energy, he sank into a plush velvet chair. This act, this cold, transactional conception, felt like the final extinguishing of any personal hope he might have once harbored—not for romantic love, which he had long dismissed, but for a life unburdened by the throne. He was signing away his body, his time, and his future privacy to the relentless machine of the London monarchy.

It was a profound and unsettling irony: the only person who truly understood the political burden he was taking on was his rival, Jungwon. He was providing a guarantee for the Consort’s safe delivery, a shield of legitimacy bought with his own discomfort and dignity.

••••

Later that afternoon, a sudden, urgent need for air drove Jungwon out of his over-attended chambers. He slipped past his guard during their tea service, aided by a sympathetic junior maid, and found his way to the highest, most secluded corner of the palace’s West Tower roof garden—a place Jay often took him in secret.

He was not alone.

Empress Sunghoon was already there, leaning against the cold stone railing, watching the gray London skyline. He looked tired, the meticulous grooming of the morning having given way to a deep, visible fatigue.

Jungwon hesitated, then approached slowly. The wind whipped at the Empress's silk robe.

"Your Majesty," Jungwon began, his voice small in the vast space.

Sunghoon turned, his expression unreadable.

“Consort. You should be in your chambers. The cold is not advised."

"The stifling heat of my chambers is also not advised for sanity,"

Jungwon countered, stepping closer.

“I wanted… I needed to see you. To say something."

Sunghoon straightened, preparing for an accusation or
a plea.

“Then say it quickly. Our time for private audiences has ended, for obvious reasons."

"I am grateful”

Jungwon whispered, the words difficult and heavy.

“Grateful for what you are doing. I know you hate this. I know this is a humiliation of a sort. But it is saving my child's life. It is saving us from civil strife. You are putting yourself through this agony purely for the realm, and for that, I thank you."

A genuine look of surprise flickered across Sunghoon’s face, quickly replaced by his usual reserve.

“Do not mistake my actions for kindness, Consort. They are strategy. A King with an unchallenged heir is a stable King. My welfare is tied to the King's stability. Your child is merely the immediate catalyst for my necessary action."

"You can call it strategy, but it is still a deep sacrifice,"

Jungwon insisted, feeling a rush of compassion for the rigid, solitary man before him.

“And what if you succeed? You will bear the King's child, too. What then? How will you share him? How will you raise a child knowing the King's heart is completely elsewhere?"

Sunghoon looked away, back to the vast, gray city that was his life's single devotion. The question had struck the only exposed nerve he possessed.

"The King's heart is irrelevant to the throne,"

Sunghoon said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“My child will be born knowing his father’s duty, and his own. My child will have the North, the law, and the Empress's unwavering support. Your child has the King's love, and that, Consort, is a dangerous and unpredictable thing. We both have our protections. We both have our struggles."

He finally turned back to Jungwon, his eyes holding a stark, icy clarity.

"Understand this, Consort Jungwon. You carry the King's heart. I will carry the King's crown. The King will love one. The kingdom will depend on the other. Do not let your passion blind you to the political war ahead. We are not friends. But for the next six months, while this great uncertainty hangs over London, we are allies in survival. My success secures your own."

Jungwon nodded, a chill that had nothing to do with the wind running through him. The Empress had laid bare the terrifying reality: they were now locked in a silent, high-stakes competition—not for Jay's love, which was settled, but for the fundamental right of their respective children to exist peacefully within the established order.

As the wind blew their robes together for a brief, strange moment, they stood as two opposed, powerful magnets—the two most significant, vulnerable people in the London court, each now carrying a piece of the kingdom's fate. Jungwon felt the stirring of the life inside him, a powerful, loving truth, even as the Empress stood beside him, preparing to conceive a cold, necessary lie. The future of London was being forged in the hidden struggles of its two consorts.

Chapter Text

After the meeting of the Privy Council concluded, a kind of high-level silence settled over the palace. Consort Jungwon’s pregnancy was now temporarily shielded by the Empress's upcoming pregnancy, no longer a political target, thanks to the Empress’s sacrifice. However, that protection was thinner than paper over wood.

King Jay no longer tried to divide his time; he stayed exclusively by Jungwon’s side. His heart was dedicated solely to Jungwon and their unborn child.

“As long as I live, no one will hurt you or my child,”

Jay would vow every night, holding Jungwon’s warm hand.

Jungwon fully appreciated Jay’s love and protection, yet his concern was clear.

“Jay, what about Empress Sunghoon? I understand what he is doing for the country. But you are not obligated to love him or even stay by his side. If he succeeds, you will be the father of two children—one from your heart, and one from your crown.”

Jay sighed, lifting his head to the ceiling. His royal attire and regalia were a constant reminder of his solemn duty.

“I respect Sunghoon. He loves the kingdom. But my love is only for you. I must support him as part of our political agreement. That is my duty. But Jungwon, love and duty are not the same thing. I must give him a lineage, but I do not have to give him my life.”

••••

On the other side of the palace, Empress Sunghoon’s chambers were filled with tension and isolation. His halls were cold and polished, but devoid of warmth. While Jungwon prepared to carry a child in the happiness of love, Sunghoon was striving for pregnancy under the crushing pressure of duty.

Dr. Lio and his medical team operated with mechanical precision. Sunghoon was undergoing a strict regimen of medications, schedules, and temperature adjustments—the most exacting procedures to control the body’s functions. It was an entirely professional process, completely lacking in passion or anticipation.

For Sunghoon, this process was a kind of emotional surgery. He had turned his body into a machine for the needs of the court. He never showed pain or discomfort. All his emotions were buried deep beneath his sense of duty and the desire to save face for the Northern Alliance.

One night, Jay arrived at Sunghoon’s chambers after gently easing Jungwon to sleep. This was according to the strict schedule for the necessary procedure. The room was silent, and Dr. Lio and the nurses were ready to finalize the arrangements.

Jay looked into Sunghoon’s eyes. He saw a blend of the Empress’s composure and a profound human disappointment.

“Sunghoon,”

Jay began softly.

“I understand what you are doing. I truly respect your sacrifice for the kingdom. But I never asked you to do this.”

Sunghoon looked straight back at Jay. A faint, knowing smile touched the corner of his lips.

“Your Majesty, you did not have to ask. I am the Empress. Just as you sacrificed your heart to make Jungwon’s pregnancy legitimate, I must sacrifice my dignity to secure the lineage. This is the nature of politics.”

He gently detached the hand Jay had been holding.

“Now, please, fulfill your duty. Let us complete our vow.”

Jay stood by Sunghoon's side with a heavy heart. He had impregnated Jungwon out of love, but impregnating Sunghoon was merely a political transaction. This act was a symbol not of affection or intimacy, but of duty and cold necessity. Jay felt deeply how painful this process must be for Sunghoon, and how much it felt like a betrayal of his devotion to Jungwon. But as the King of London, he had no choice.

••••

Two Months Later...

After exactly two months of rigorous effort, Dr. Lio confirmed Sunghoon’s pregnancy. This news gave Jay administrative relief but made his personal life infinitely more complicated.

Empress Sunghoon stood proudly in the palace hall to announce the news. His face held the cool, determined expression of a victor. He had given the Northern Alliance hope and secured a political victory that kept Jungwon’s pregnancy safe.

But the price of this victory was immense.

Jungwon felt a confused mix of joy and sadness upon hearing the news. His child was safer, but his beloved Jay was now also the father of a coming rival heir. While he knew Jay’s heart belonged only to him, Jungwon started to worry that the kingdom itself would now tear them apart.

That evening, alone in the quiet warmth of his chamber, Consort Jungwon felt a familiar, sharp surge of corrosive resentment toward Empress Sunghoon. He knew the Empress remained in the palace as the King’s political shield, a necessary yet odious guarantee that secured Jungwon's child's future. Sunghoon's very existence was a constant, chilling reminder that his son’s legitimacy had only been achieved through Jay's painful, secretive maneuvering.

Jungwon, shielded from the brutal political bargain Sunghoon had just forced upon the King, saw only the emblem of his instability. As he lay among his silk pillows, focusing on the future of love and happiness his child represented, a cold dread settled over him. Jungwon did not know the political power Sunghoon’s unborn son was about to extract, but he understood the cold logic of Sunghoon's House. He saw the Empress as a joyless obligation—the solemn figure whose duty was absolute, and whose child, by virtue of carrying the King's blood and representing the powerful North, would forever be an existential threat to his own golden heir.

He didn't just dislike Sunghoon; he was afraid. Jungwon looked at his own abdomen, the swell of life within, and the fear was visceral: Sunghoon's child, the political anchor, would always have the higher claim in the eyes of the realm's structure. Jungwon closed his eyes, his resentment a sophisticated shield against the terror that his child's survival on the throne depended entirely on the cold mercy of the Empress and his northern line. He focused solely on the pure love he and Jay shared, desperate to ignore the bitter, dutiful presence that threatened to overshadow his son's future.

Chapter Text

The news of Empress Sunghoon's pregnancy temporarily quieted the Northern Alliance. The existence of two pregnancies in the palace—one from love, one from politics—granted King Jay a brief respite from the pressure of his opponents. However, for Jay, Sunghoon's pregnancy was merely a protective shield, buying time to ensure the child born to his beloved, Consort Jungwon, would ascend the throne.

Jay's secret goal was clear: Jungwon’s child, as his firstborn, must be his sole heir. While Sunghoon’s child would be in the line of succession, Jay intended for him to occupy only the secondary position.

Jay chose an extremely secretive path to execute this plan. He summoned only the most trustworthy and legally astute member of his council, Lord Gareth. Lord Gareth had supported Jay since his youth and understood the King's true heart.

Jay and Lord Gareth spent an entire night poring over the archaic laws of succession hidden away in the palace's secret library. Since London had only recently become a unified nation, there were many old laws—complex and sometimes contradictory.

"Lord Gareth,"

Jay pointed to an ancient document.

“Look at this paragraph concerning the 'King's Prerogative.' It grants the monarch the right to unilaterally establish the rank of the firstborn through a special decree. This law has remained dormant for over a century."

Lord Gareth adjusted his spectacles and read the paragraph carefully.

“Your Majesty, this law is highly dangerous. If activated, Empress Sunghoon and the Northern Alliance will accuse you of breaking the succession compact."

"They may accuse,"

Jay said with a resolute tone.

“But they will not wage war. They are banking on two successions. I will legally declare Jungwon's child as the future King and securely place Sunghoon's child in the second position. By doing so, I protect Jungwon's child from harm and keep the North's demands controlled without fully rejecting them."

Lord Gareth grasped the plan, but his concern remained.

"However, Your Majesty, this law must be activated in secret. We have no time. Jungwon's pregnancy is already five months along, and the Privy Council will soon press for the immediate affirmation of the firstborn's rights."

"We must preempt them," Jay said with a slight smile.

“Carry out the preparations in complete secrecy. It must be recorded only as a closed Royal Decree without announcing it to anyone else in the palace. This decree will only be issued after Jungwon's child is born. By then, everything will be legally solid."

••••

Consort Jungwon was unaware of Jay's clandestine plans. All he knew was that Jay was spending more time in his chambers and discussing matters late into the night with Lord Gareth. While Jungwon was overjoyed by his pregnancy, his anxiety grew with his increasing belly, especially whenever he saw Empress Sunghoon’s composed, politically successful presence.

One day, while walking in the gardens, Jungwon had an unexpected encounter with Empress Sunghoon. Sunghoon was only about three months pregnant, his belly still small, but his authority felt stronger than ever.

Sunghoon spoke in his usual cold tone.

“Consort Jungwon, I am pleased to see you are well. The North has just ratified new trade routes. This is the direct result of the commitment we made for your child’s safety."

Jungwon replied.

“I understand. But I dislike that my child is a consequence of a political deal. He was conceived out of love."

Sunghoon paused, his gaze cool and level.

“Love is a human feeling, Consort. It does not establish stability for a kingdom. A lineage requires law and prerogative. King Jay will always favor you. But my child is secured by the necessity of the state. Your child, even as the firstborn, holds no inherent political guarantee."

Sunghoon's words were delivered as a plain, undeniable political fact, and they struck Jungwon's heart. He understood that while Jay loved his child, the child was legally vulnerable before the laws of the kingdom.
Those words struck Jungwon's heart like a dagger. He understood that while Jay loved his child passionately, the child was legally vulnerable before the laws of the kingdom.

••••

That evening, Jay arrived at Jungwon's room after secretly signing the decree with Lord Gareth. Jay carefully locked the legal document away in a secret compartment by the bedside.

Jay lay down next to Jungwon and gently stroked his beloved's face.

"What worries you, Jungwon?" Jay asked.

“You know I am always here for you."

"Empress Sunghoon spoke to me,"

Jungwon murmured.

“He said my child lacks a birthright guarantee. Will our love be enough, Jay?"

Jay embraced Jungwon tightly and whispered into his ear. This was the truth straight from Jay's heart:

"Love is enough. But the law is also necessary. You have nothing to worry about, my love. Trust my vow. I have prepared all the documents necessary for your child to be the future King of London. He will be my sole heir. No one, no law, no Empress, will ever take our child's place. I am your King, and I am the man who loves you."

Jay's secret action calmed Jungwon but deepened the conflict. Just as two pregnancies now grew in the palace, so too did two opposing laws. The entire court would soon face the consequences of Jay's secret resolution and Sunghoon's political capability.

Chapter Text

Empress Sunghoon, at three months pregnant, maintained an icy facade. His pregnancy was a state affair, monitored by doctors and discussed only in terms of political guarantees. He saw Jay only during mandatory ceremonies and cold, scheduled medical appointments. Sunghoon accepted this distance; he had traded love for political leverage, and this silence merely affirmed his commitment to the Crown.

But Sunghoon was not blind. He was a master strategist, and Jay's excessive focus on Jungwon, combined with secret, late-night discussions with his legal advisor, Lord Gareth, set off alarm bells in his mind. Sunghoon's strength lay in knowing the political landscape better than anyone, and the unknown contents of Jay and Gareth's late-night meetings felt like dangerous, uncharted territory.

Sunghoon began a systematic, cautious investigation. He trusted only documents and procedure, not palace gossip. He summoned his most loyal and discreet secretary, Minyoung, and tasked him with auditing all recently issued Royal Mandates and decrees. Minyoung was to search for anything signed by Jay and Lord Gareth that was not immediately filed in the Privy Council's official records.

After two weeks, Minyoung found the anomaly.
It wasn't a public document, but an entry in a low-level ledger called the 'Record of Executive Action.' It was conspicuously hidden, documented only in a minor expense log that tracked internal palace costs.

The entry noted a "Restoration of Prerogative" dated immediately after Sunghoon’s pregnancy was confirmed. It directed that the final signed decree be sealed within the King’s personal vault, retrievable only with the King's personal code and the rare, ancient "Lion of Unity Seal."

Sunghoon’s blood ran cold. He knew the purpose of that seal. It was reserved exclusively for declarations that transcended normal covenants—issues meant to be politically unchallengeable, such as the succession.

He quietly dismissed Minyoung, his mind racing. Jay wasn't just protecting his beloved; he was systematically dismantling the political security network Sunghoon had sacrificed his body to build. Jay was using an obsolete law to try and make Jungwon's child the singular, unquestioned heir to the throne.

••••

The next morning, Sunghoon avoided his regular duties. He intercepted King Jay in his private study, where the King was reviewing trade reports. The room was the same place where Sunghoon had proposed his terrible bargain, but now it reeked of deception.

Sunghoon entered without knocking, closing the heavy door in silence. He carried a copied administrative record, the words echoing with betrayal.

Jay looked up and instantly recognized the fierce anger in Sunghoon's rigid posture.

"Empress,"

Jay said, standing up, using the tense royal address reserved for political disputes.

“This is not the time for an audience. I have matters—"

"Matters of state, Your Majesty?"

Sunghoon cut in. He walked to the center of the room and placed the document on Jay’s desk, pointing to the section titled "Restoration of Prerogative."

“Or matters of treason against the covenants that unify your kingdom?"

Jay’s stance stiffened. His eyes betrayed a mixture of cold fury and shock.

“Empress, you do not have clearance to access administrative records. You are encroaching on my personal authority."

"And are you not encroaching on the foundation of London's peace, Your Majesty?"

Sunghoon countered, meeting the King's height without flinching.

“I will ask once. Did you secretly sign a Royal Decree using an ancient law to make Consort Jungwon’s child the sole, unquestionable heir, thereby nullifying the role of the child who is the guarantee of the North?"

Jay did not deny it. His jaw clenched, his face confirming the truth. "It was a necessity. The pressure from the North on Jungwon was intolerable. No one will question the child I love. This law, though ancient, is valid. And it secures the succession against all political bargaining."

Sunghoon drew a silent, sharp breath, a bitter mix of rage and grim satisfaction at being proven right.

“I gave you my body," Sunghoon stated, his voice sharp as a blade. "I gave you my peace of mind. I endured a humiliating political transaction before the Privy Council and guaranteed the safety of your crown and Consort Jungwon. I staked my political standing and my life to give your beloved child a legitimate shield. And you repay me with treachery."

He walked to the window, turning his back on the King, staring out at the manicured palace gardens.

“You used my guarantee—my pregnancy—as a mere distraction, dismantling the very structure I was building to stabilize the kingdom. If this secret decree is revealed, the North will not see a legitimate law; they will see it as a deliberate insult and a flagrant breach of contract."

"Then what of my vow to myself?"

Jay roared, slamming his fist on the desk.

“My vow not to let the person I love and his child be held hostage? Your child will be safe. He will be a Duke, a Prince—second in the line, with a noble life. But Jungwon's child must be the King!"

"A King chosen out of treachery and fear!"

Sunghoon spat the words like venom.

“You hide behind an obsolete seal because you lack the courage to be honest with the Privy Council. If this secret decree is revealed, London will not see a singular heir, they will see a King who broke his promises and insulted his most powerful allies. That civil unrest will stab a knife into the back not only of my child, but of Jungwon's as well!"

Sunghoon's calculated coldness vanished, replaced by the raw, genuine passion of a political zealot. He was not fighting for love; he was fighting for the stability of the Crown he had sworn to protect, even if it meant protecting the King from himself.

"If you continue with this deception,"

Sunghoon warned, regaining his frightening composure,

“I will ensure the Northern Alliance learns every detail of this betrayal. Your reign will be consumed by instability. You will have your loved heir, but he will rule a fractured kingdom. Is that the crown you wish him to inherit?"

The confrontation ended in a stalemate of power and emotion. Jay’s secret was exposed and now a fatal liability. Sunghoon was betrayed, his sacrifice made meaningless. The future of London now rested not only on the signed document sealed in Jay’s vault, but on the painful decision of how and when to use it.

Chapter Text

The air in King Jay's study was charged with silence, a silence filled not with fear, but with the cold, hard weight of a political certainty. Jay's secret was exposed, and his crown was vulnerable.

Jay dropped back into his chair, his face drawn.

“What do you want, Sunghoon? You have me cornered. I will not destroy the decree. Jungwon's child must be the legitimate heir."

Sunghoon finally moved from the window, his composure absolute and terrifying. He didn't rush, nor did he beg; he merely stated the new, undeniable reality. He looked at Jay with a weary, unforgiving understanding—the cold, level gaze of one monarch confronting the fatal weakness of another.

"I am not here to negotiate your feelings, Your Majesty," Sunghoon stated, his voice quiet but resonating with finality. "You love Consort Jungwon, and you have used the law to secure your heart's desire. I accept this as an unavoidable political reality—a weakness of the King, perhaps, but a fact nonetheless. However, the true danger now is not the decree itself, but the North's inevitable discovery of your deceit."

Sunghoon’s hand rested protectively on his still-small bump—a gesture of ownership, not affection, emphasizing the political weight of the life within.

“My purpose has always been the stability of London. Since you have complicated the succession through your secret maneuvering, the burden of stability now shifts from my person to my child. Your 'Prerogative' makes Jungwon’s heir safe from internal challenge, but it does not make the kingdom secure from rebellion."

He walked toward the King, stopping only a few feet from the desk where the treacherous document lay hidden. Jay watched him approach, sensing the meticulous destruction of his authority about to begin. Sunghoon's voice became a low, decisive force of will.

"You will keep your secret decree. Jungwon's child will be King. That is settled. But in exchange for my immediate, absolute, and eternal silence regarding your treason, we establish a new, unassailable political structure that guarantees the Crown's survival despite your actions."

Jay stared, his throat tight. “What structure?"

"My child will not simply be a Prince or a Duke," Sunghoon declared, his eyes like chips of ice. “My child will be named the Crown Duke of the North, immediately upon birth, with a separate, sovereign grant of power."

Sunghoon leaned in, his voice becoming a powerful, chilling dictate.

"The Crown Duke of the North shall hold permanent military command over all Northern legions and unrestricted control of the state's military budget. This title cannot be revoked by the Privy Council or by your own will. My child will be the supreme warlord of the North, the unassailable 'Iron Shield' to protect your golden heir from all internal and external threats."

Sunghoon finished, his tone transactional, utterly devoid of personal emotion. "You may be the symbolic King, focused on the personal security of your beloved heir. But the authority over the kingdom's martial survival now belongs to my line. This is the only structure that can prevent the North from tearing the realm apart when they learn how you secured your succession."

The Price of a Divided Throne

Jay remained frozen, the reality of Sunghoon’s demand crashing down on him. This was not a request; it was a unilateral re-drawing of the kingdom's political map.

“You seek to divide the Crown, Empress,” Jay finally managed, his voice a strained whisper of disbelief. “You ask me to hand over the absolute military might of the realm to a newborn who will be raised by your family—a power that will inevitably be wielded against the throne you claim to protect.”

Sunghoon gave a chilling, humorless half-smile. “The Crown is already divided, Your Majesty. It was divided the moment you signed that decree with a lie. I am merely assigning the North a title commensurate with the power they already possess and offering a formal shield for the heir you choose to place on the throne.”

He moved closer, placing his hands flat on the desk, his gaze boring into Jay’s. “You have created a flaw in the heart of the succession. The only way to repair the kingdom is to surround that flaw with unchallengeable strength. My child will be the Northern Anchor. He will be the living, breathing guarantee that the North will not rise up and challenge the boy King you cherish. Every soldier, every lord, every coin spent on defense will answer to my son. He will be the wall, and your heir will be safe behind it.”

Jay pushed his chair back, standing abruptly. The weight of his guilt and the terrifying scale of Sunghoon’s ambition were suffocating. He understood the brilliance of the move: by officially recognizing the North’s power and placing it in his son's hands, Sunghoon neutralized the North’s political incentive to rebel, transforming them from a dissatisfied faction into the official military backbone of the kingdom—a backbone they could never trust Jay himself to provide.

“And your ultimate goal?” Jay challenged, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “To raise a military dictator who will eventually swallow the whole?”

Sunghoon’s composure did not waver. “My ultimate goal, Your Majesty, is to see the kingdom of London endure. I have no need to ‘swallow the whole’ when the ‘whole’ will rely on the Crown Duke for its very survival. You wish for a golden age of peace and love under your chosen heir. I will provide the steel to protect it. You will reign in the palace; my son will rule the barracks.”

He stepped back and gave a curt, formal bow, his eyes never leaving Jay's.

"There is no more to discuss, Your Majesty. The Crown Duke requires security. Your love is a distraction. My duty is absolute. You get your heart's desire on the throne. I get the power necessary to keep the kingdom whole over your deceit. See to your Consort."

Sunghoon turned and walked out of the study, his slow, deliberate steps echoing the sound of a closing door on Jay's absolute rule. Jay remained slumped in his chair, staring at the empty doorway. He had saved Jungwon and his child from a political disaster, but in doing so, he had divided the military sovereignty of his kingdom, handing supreme martial power to his political rival's son—a son whom Jay already knew he would never love. The stability Sunghoon demanded was merely a gilded cage for Jay's conscience. He had traded a secret war for a permanent, cold peace, and the price was the complete authority of the Crown.

Chapter Text

The new pact—the exchange of Sunghoon's political silence for the security of both children and his personal freedom—was the darkest agreement King Jay had ever sealed. Yet, Jay's guilt was quickly overshadowed by the joy of his uncomplicated love for Consort Jungwon, who was now entering his seventh month, glowing with health and happiness.

Empress Sunghoon, however, could not leave. The logistics were too complex, the political eyes too watchful, and the subtle, internal voice of duty too demanding. He had promised stability until his child was safely established as the 'Crown Duke of the North' and the primary backup. To abandon his post now, while both pregnancies were still vulnerable, would be the final, unforgivable breach of his oath to the realm.

And so, Sunghoon remained, a prisoner of his own integrity, bearing the Seven Sorrows in the gilded cage of Kensington Palace.

The most immediate pain was the complete cessation of any pretense of relationship with the King. Jay was bound by the pact to reserve his affection for Jungwon, and he adhered to the third promise rigidly. He no longer sought out Sunghoon for anything but essential administrative clarity. Jay’s concern for Sunghoon’s health was delivered via Dr. Lio, never personally. Sunghoon's chambers became a fortress of polite isolation. He was pregnant with the King's child, yet the King treated him with the careful, professional distance one reserves for a respected, but politically essential, rival.

Sunghoon spent his days alone, feeling the chill of the royal bed and the increasing weight of a child conceived out of obligation, not affection. This was the quiet agony of contrast. Jungwon’s wing of the palace was constantly bustling with light, laughter, and the palpable excitement of the King. Gifts, carefully chosen by Jay, arrived daily: silken cradles, hand-carved wooden animals, and brightly colored blankets. Jungwon was surrounded by adoration, his every craving and whim indulged. Sunghoon, by contrast, had his own meticulous nursery designed—muted colors, heavy velvet, and books on statecraft—but the work was supervised by his chief steward, not the King. Sunghoon felt the sting of Jay’s true heart being displayed for the entire court to witness, highlighting his own child's cold genesis.

As the political guarantee, Sunghoon could not afford a single misstep. His public appearances became agonizing exercises in stoicism. While Jungwon was permitted the natural, easy fatigue of pregnancy, Sunghoon had to maintain an image of unflappable health and icy control. He attended every required state dinner, every boring military review, his pale skin taut with exhaustion. He knew the Northern Houses were watching, waiting for a crack in his armor to challenge the King's succession plan. He sacrificed all comfort, all natural bodily vulnerability, to be the perfect, unbreakable political insurance policy.

The regular examinations were excruciating. Dr. Lio, a practical man, treated both pregnancies, moving from the King's beloved consort to the King's essential Empress. During Sunghoon's appointments, Dr. Lio’s conversation was purely clinical—blood pressure, diet, political schedules. But Sunghoon often overheard the cheerful reports given to Jay on Jungwon’s progress: the first flutter of movement, the charming ultrasound images, the gender guesses.

Sunghoon’s own experience was reduced to metrics and political deadlines, his body monitored like a clock counting down to an important state event, devoid of personal wonder.

As per the pact, Jay had confirmed that Sunghoon would have sole parental authority over his child and would raise the child to be the ultimate political security for the realm. Sunghoon was effectively planning to raise a future Prince in exile, dedicating the child to a hard life of duty. One afternoon, he stood alone in the cold, formal nursery he had ordered designed. He imagined his son, a serious, stoic boy, learning treaties instead of playing games. The deep, visceral pity he felt for this unborn child—a child of sacrifice—was the closest he came to breaking. He had trapped his own flesh and blood in a life devoid of the warmth Jay's child would know.

••••

One evening, during a state reception, Jay momentarily forgot his pact. He had just received a charming note from Jungwon about the baby kicking for the first time. Jay saw Sunghoon standing alone, looking utterly frail in his state robes, and was momentarily overcome by the sheer pity and guilt of his situation.

Jay approached Sunghoon and, without thinking, placed a warm hand on his arm, a gesture of unexpected sympathy.

"Sunghoon, you look tired. Please, retire early tonight. I..."

Before Jay could offer any sincere comfort, Sunghoon's eyes flashed with icy warning, the memory of the pact returning to Jay instantly. Sunghoon gently but firmly removed Jay’s hand, his voice a chilling murmur that only Jay could hear.

"Your Majesty, remember your promise. Do not confuse me with Consort Jungwon. Reserve your care for where it belongs. I require only your professionalism, not your pity."

Jay withdrew immediately, shamed. Sunghoon's forced rejection, while devastating, was his desperate way of defending himself—enforcing the boundary so Jay's momentary lapse wouldn't destroy his carefully constructed emotional fortress.

This was the deepest, most pervasive pain. Sunghoon had to constantly remind himself that the little life growing inside him was not the heir, but the spare. His child was the political safety net for the child of Jay’s love. He was an integral part of the lineage, yet completely irrelevant to the emotional core of the King's family. He had to be the best, the strongest, the most politically astute backup, all while remaining second best in the King's eyes. Sunghoon’s sacrifice had not been for love, but for a bitter, unyielding duty that now demanded his perpetual, sorrowful presence in the palace he desperately wanted to leave.

Chapter Text

Empress Sunghoon's exposure of the secret decree led to the greatest loss and the greatest sacrifice. King Jay was furious that his secret was known, yet he knew Sunghoon's words were true. Jay's deception could indeed destroy the state.

However, Sunghoon did not demand to leave or threaten the King. He suppressed his pain and chose, by his own decision, to remain in the palace. Sunghoon wanted to ensure that the child he carried would stand firmly as the iron guarantee against the collapse of the Northern States. His sacrifice was not for Jay's love, but entirely for duty.

Jay decided to reveal his entire heart, his love, and his secret to Consort Jungwon. That evening, Jungwon, in his seventh month of pregnancy, rested in his chamber. Jungwon held Jay's hand and noticed an unusual seriousness and anxiety on Jay's face.

"Jungwon, I have something important to tell you,"

Jay said, tightly holding his lover's hand.

“Don't tell anyone about this. It is the palace's secret.”

Jay detailed his tense confrontation with Sunghoon and how he had planned to use his secret Royal Prerogative Decree to declare Jungwon's child as the sole heir. He also explained how Sunghoon's harsh warnings had convinced him to lock the decree away.

Jungwon listened in silence. His eyes widened with anxiety.

"Jay, that... that would have been a betrayal of Empress Sunghoon. He sacrificed himself to protect our child."

"But my love wasn't for his protection,"

Jay confessed.

“Only my duty was. Jungwon, I did this for you and our child. My heart wants only your child to be the Crown Prince. But Sunghoon is right. Issuing the law now would ruin the state. Yet, our child will surely become King."

Jay kissed Jungwon's hand.

“You don't need to worry about anything. Sunghoon demanded to leave, but he won't. His sense of duty binds him here. He will remain here as our best guarantee. And my love is only for you."

••••

Jay's confession deepened Sunghoon's agony. His refusal to leave was purely an act of duty. This was his final psychological sacrifice. Now that Jay had fully shared his true intentions with Jungwon, Sunghoon's isolation intensified further.

Despite all his rank and title, Empress Sunghoon remained the palace's most necessary, yet most unloved, political instrument.

Every time Sunghoon saw the happy faces of Jay and Jungwon, he was reminded that both of them knew about Sunghoon's sacrifice and Jay's secret. He knew they were exploiting his silence. Just as Jungwon carried a joyous child in his womb, Sunghoon carried the darkest secret of the King's betrayal in his heart. His pregnancy was a political weapon, but his silence allowed that weapon to be used against him.

••••

Then, a few weeks later, the final blow landed.

The news arrived: The entire Northern Alliance States had completely collapsed. A perfect storm of internal rebellion, economic ruin, and the strategic withdrawal of military support had shattered Sunghoon's ancestral home.

Sunghoon’s world imploded. His family—the House of Nam, ancient and powerful—had been utterly overthrown. His elderly parents were reported to have been taken into custody by rebel forces, their fate chillingly uncertain.

Sunghoon had forcibly accepted the heir agreement to protect his lands, his people, and his family. Now, all his territories were lost, his ancestral power extinguished, and his immediate family was either captive or deceased.

Sunghoon's pregnancy was now merely a tribute for the deceased states. Though his political value had decreased, his sense of duty still compelled him to believe that only his child becoming the Crown Prince could lead to the restoration of the state.

As Jungwon's pregnancy reached eight months, Jay's affection permeated every room of the palace. Once, Sunghoon was passing by Jungwon's chamber on his way to the library. The door was slightly ajar, and he saw Jungwon asleep in Jay's arms. Jay was gently stroking Jungwon's abdomen, softly singing a lullaby for their child. This beautiful image of love was unbearable. Sunghoon walked back to his chamber with cold steps, touching his own pregnant abdomen. Though his womb carried the King's blood, Sunghoon intensely felt the King's loveless coldness.

Sunghoon's sense of duty compelled him to remain in the palace, but Jay's love for Jungwon slowly killed Sunghoon's soul day by day. He was an Empress who sacrificed his life to protect the state, and now he had to watch his rival reap the benefits of his sacrifice. Sunghoon's agony was more painful than exile.

Chapter Text

Empress Sunghoon carried out his duty to the very end by remaining in the palace despite King Jay’s cruel preference for Consort Jungwon. His pregnancy was now in its eighth and a half month, and the burden of being the state's "guarantee" was tormenting his body and soul.

King Jay’s true love joyfully resided at the heart of the palace, where Jungwon was showered with quiet warmth and care in anticipation of the upcoming heir's birth. Sunghoon, however, was forced to watch it all from the outside. He was politically essential, but completely isolated in terms of affection.

The solitude, Jay's cold, professional treatment, and the daily sight of Jungwon's perfect happiness gradually eroded Sunghoon's composure. Although he had always maintained complete control externally, his internal emotional defense system was on the verge of collapsing.

Dr. Lio reviewed the Empress's health report with growing concern. Sunghoon's rate of weight gain had stalled, and his blood pressure fluctuated erratically. Dr. Lio initially attributed this to normal pregnancy stress, but the cold light in Sunghoon's eyes and his rigid, unchanging posture suggested a deeper psychological issue.

"Empress,"

Dr. Lio bravely asked one day.

“Pregnancy is exhausting. You don't need to speak your worries aloud. But your eating and sleeping patterns are poor. This kind of stress can induce labor prematurely."

Sunghoon replied, "Dr. Lio, monitor my health. My state of mind is irrelevant to my state position. I will not break."

But his private nights betrayed him. Sunghoon spent every night suffering from insomnia, longing for the King's warmth every time he tried to sleep, and knowing the child in his pregnant abdomen was devoid of the King's love.

••••

In stark contrast, King Jay visited Jungwon's chambers every evening. The room was always filled with soft light and the scent of soothing herbs.

One evening, Jay sat beside Jungwon, stroking his hand as Dr. Lio performed a final routine check. Jungwon, resting comfortably amongst silk pillows, gave Jay a small, content smile.

"The baby has been inactive on these days , Lio," Jungwon murmured, a slight worry clouding his eyes.

Dr. Lio nodded, his gaze professional, yet tinged with a faint, unspoken concern. "Consort, the Crown Prince is strong, but he is indeed still quite high and seems reluctant to settle," he reported, avoiding Jay’s eyes. "It’s not uncommon, but we will monitor him closely. Rest and warmth are essential now."

Jay, focused only on Jungwon’s fragile happiness, dismissed the medical ambiguity immediately. He kissed Jungwon’s forehead, his voice laced with gentle reassurance.

"Lio worries too much, my love. He will be safe. I will ensure it. Soon, our son will be in your arms." Jay held Jungwon tightly, completely absorbed in the world of perfect, expected joy, oblivious to the medical red flag Dr. Lio had cautiously waved.

Jungwon leaned into Jay's embrace, the small worry instantly dissolving in the depth of the King’s love. "Yes, Jay. Soon."

••••

Sleepless through the night, Sunghoon decided to bathe in the early hours. He settled into the massive stone bathtub in his chamber. The warm water eased his body's exhaustion but failed to remove the coldness in his soul.

He looked down at his large, pregnant abdomen. This child was his value. His political weapon. The price for his freedom. In his mind, the baby existed not as flesh and blood, but merely as a symbol of duty.

Suddenly, the baby in his pregnant belly kicked forcefully. Sunghoon gasped and placed his hands over the spot. The movement was so firm and vital that it transcended all politics, laws, and pacts.

In that instant, Sunghoon's strong psychological walls crumbled. His heart awakened with an uncontrollable, overwhelming sorrow that surged through his body.
He clutched the edge of the bathtub and began to sob uncontrollably. It was a sudden, soundless, silent, and painful cry. For the first time in his life, Empress Sunghoon was completely out of control.

"My child... my child..."

he choked softly. He had heard Jay's happy lullabies, but he could find no words to express love to his own baby. He couldn't love this child because he couldn't love himself.

"How difficult it must be for you to be the child of a loveless Empress..."

His tears streamed down his face, dissolving into the warm water. All of Sunghoon's tears were the frozen tears he couldn't shed externally while maintaining his duty to stabilize the state. In this bathtub, he was no longer the loyal Empress protecting the state, but a hurting human who had been abandoned by the King and was carrying a child without love.

He continued to sob for a long time. Finally, when his emotions were spent, he silenced his cries. His face was pale from exhaustion and pain, but his eyes regained their firmness.

He climbed out of the bathtub and dried himself. The pregnant man reflected in the mirror was heartbreaking. He had promised not to show his pain in the palace. Sunghoon kept his breakdown a secret and put his steel mask back on to await the final act of his duty.

His time for giving birth was drawing near.

Chapter Text

Empress Sunghoon entered his ninth month of pregnancy. The entire palace was stirring with the joyful anticipation of Consort Jungwon's birth. Jungwon was already in his full-term, and his delivery was likely within the next week.Though the date is near, the midwives secretly fret that Consort Jungwon is 'holding too tightly,' fearing his body will struggle to yield the Crown Prince easily

For Sunghoon, however, this time was not one of joyful waiting but of terrifying calculation. His duty dictated that Jungwon's child must be born first. Only then could Sunghoon's child be safely designated as the Crown Duke of the North and secure the activation of Jay's secret decree.

Yet, Sunghoon was severely suffering under the intense physical and psychological pressure.

A new pain began to overwhelm Sunghoon. In his mind, he constantly envisioned Jay's love for Jungwon blazing like a torch. Jay was sharing dreams of the future with Jungwon and their child. Throughout Sunghoon's entire pregnancy, Jay had never once come near him. Jay viewed this as respect for Sunghoon's duty, but for Sunghoon, his marriage and pregnancy were merely a reality devoid of Jay's true heart.

Every time the baby in his womb moved, Sunghoon felt a pang of pain. This child was not born of love, but of a contract. Sunghoon blamed himself for his failure as a parent, unable to offer genuine love to this baby because he had never felt genuine love for himself.

Every space Sunghoon occupied—his desk, his bed, his sitting room—was silent and cold. His pregnancy, unlike those of other expecting parents, was fraught not only with physical pain but also with the psychological agony of utter loneliness. When he woke up from sleep deprivation, he knew there was no warm hand or comforting word beside him. He spoke only with his head stewards or Dr. Lio, and their conversations were limited strictly to rank and health.

Sometimes, he would watch from his window as Jungwon slowly walked in the garden, hand-in-hand with Jay. Jay would carefully hold Jungwon's pregnant belly, excitedly discussing their future. Sunghoon stood alone in the shadow of his own chamber, contemplating how much warmth his own unborn life was lacking within his womb.

••••

Empress Sunghoon began to suffer physical consequences from the sustained psychological stress endured since the start of his pregnancy. Though he was nearing his ninth month, his health was steadily deteriorating.

Sunghoon's isolation and overwhelming stress had resulted in severe High Blood Pressure. Dr. Lio warned Sunghoon repeatedly, but Sunghoon prioritized his duty to the state above all else.

Sunghoon suffered from daily, intense headaches. This pain kept him from sleeping, and every waking moment was spent contemplating Jay's betrayal and the painful future awaiting his child.

He habitually neglected his meals. Though Dr. Lio warned him that the baby's growth was not as robust as Jungwon's, Sunghoon showed no interest. Feeling that his child was merely the product of duty, he lacked the strength to care for himself or the baby.

His body and soul were at war. Sunghoon frequently experienced shortness of breath and a rapid heartbeat. All his psychological energy was consumed by maintaining his unyielding mask, leaving no strength for other bodily functions.

As Sunghoon walked through his wing of the palace, the lights and joy emanating from Jungwon's chamber only amplified his isolation. He pitied himself—a parent trapped behind cold stone walls, unable to offer warmth to his own unborn child.

King Jay was spending his happiest moments caring for Jungwon's pregnancy, yet the guilt he felt towards Sunghoon tormented him daily. Jay had been cruel to Sunghoon for the sake of the state's interest, and now he was forced to overlook Sunghoon's physical suffering.

Jay requested a daily report on Sunghoon's health from Dr. Lio. Hearing news of Sunghoon's rising blood pressure and loss of appetite, Jay felt a pang of pain. Jay knew that his love was unintentionally driving Sunghoon closer to a death he did not deserve.

Late one night, after Jungwon had fallen asleep, Jay retreated to his private office. With a somber face, Jay gazed out the window. He never loved Sunghoon, but he genuinely respected Sunghoon's duty and self-sacrifice. Now, that respect was turning into agonizing guilt.

"How must he be feeling now..." Jay muttered softly.

“He has become my prisoner."

Jay felt an impulse to go to Sunghoon's chamber, but his feet would not move forward. He feared Sunghoon's cold eyes and the silent message: 'I do not need your pity.' Jay felt like a tiny part of his soul—the part left after giving all his love to Jungwon—was suffering due to his remorse and empathy for Sunghoon.

Jay looked at the state decrees on his desk, signed by Sunghoon. This person did not love him, yet he loved the state. That love compelled Sunghoon to remain in the palace, and now that very duty was killing him.

Jay resolved that once Jungwon's heir was born, he would forcibly grant Sunghoon his personal freedom.

Chapter Text

The political tension was unbearable as the time for Consort Jungwon’s delivery approached. The palace prepared for a large Autumn Harvest Ceremony, an essential event to show the state's stability to the court and foreign ambassadors. King Jay and Empress Sunghoon were required to attend.

Empress Sunghoon was severely weak from his high blood pressure and lack of nutrition, yet he forced himself to stand straight in his ceremonial attire. He was the symbol of the Northern Alliance, and his presence was non-negotiable for state stability.

He ignored the severe throbbing headache and rapid heartbeat. Sunghoon's face was rigid and pale, but his eyes were fixed ahead. He stood beside King Jay, while Consort Jungwon sat nearby, supported by Jay's gentle care.

Sunghoon's entire energy was spent maintaining the facade of Empress. He listened to the speeches, enduring the weight of his child and the knowledge that the man beside him hated him, while the man's lover was protected by his own self-sacrifice.

As King Jay was concluding his speech, confirming the state's stability and future prosperity, Sunghoon's body suddenly trembled violently. He tried to grip the edge of the royal platform, but his vision was completely blurred by the pain.

His psychological control shattered.

Empress Sunghoon let out a silent gasp and collapsed heavily onto the floor in front of the entire assembly. His ceremonial robes spread out on the ground, and his pregnant body lay still, destroying the dignity of the throne and the King's stability in one single, terrible moment.

The entire ceremony erupted into chaos.

King Jay's speech was cut short. He rushed toward Sunghoon, horrified. Consort Jungwon watched the scene with a pale face, a mixture of fear and guilt in his eyes.
Dr. Lio immediately assessed the emergency.

“Get the Empress to the emergency wing immediately! His blood pressure is critically high!"

Jay lifted Sunghoon's body with trembling arms. For the first time, Jay saw the full vulnerability of the man he hated.

Sunghoon's collapse was not merely a physical failure; it was the final testimony of a soul that had endured too much agony for the state. Jay held Sunghoon, consumed by a regret that now felt heavier than his crown.

••••

After Empress Sunghoon was rushed to the emergency ward, the palace banquet hall was left a scene filled with tragic rumors and political anxiety. King Jay pushed aside his love and care for Jungwon and stood anxiously only by Sunghoon’s side.

Sunghoon lay unconscious on the white hospital bed, his face strangely serene. The psychological tension had been released from his body, as if silence had replaced the pain. Dr. Lio conducted an urgent examination.

"Your Majesty, the Empress’s blood pressure is dangerously high. It's a hypertensive crisis caused by prolonged, unrelieved psychological stress. His body simply gave out. And... the baby's heartbeat is unstable. The slightest emotional shock could trigger
an early, perhaps catastrophic, delivery. We need the Empress to have complete rest, away from all worries, away from the court."

Away from the court. Away from me. The unspoken accusation hung in the air. Jay leaned heavily against the cool, white wall, looking at the man he had believed to be his greatest political enemy. Sunghoon’s face was indeed strangely serene, the deep lines of tension around his mouth finally smoothed away. The cold dignity was gone, stripped away by physical collapse, leaving only a profoundly vulnerable human being.

Jay slowly walked to the bedside and took Sunghoon's hand. It was cold and lifeless, smaller than he remembered, yet this hand had held the reins of state stability. It had signed treaties, corrected Jay’s political missteps, and endured the searing hatred Jay had poured into it. Jay lifted it to his lips, a spontaneous gesture of reverence and profound sorrow.

Regret was a physical ache in his chest. He had seen Sunghoon as a barrier to his happiness with Jungwon, a cold-blooded political construct. He had failed to see the person inside—a pregnant man enduring immense physical and mental duress, suffering in silence, sacrificing his life force for the sake of the King who hated him. The stability Jay had just proclaimed in his speech was not his own achievement; it was built on the crumbling foundation of Empress Sunghoon’s health.

Jay gently tucked Sunghoon's hand beneath the white sheet. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the core, that his reign, his stability, and perhaps his very soul, had just reached a terrible, irreversible turning point. He sat on the stool by the bedside, the silence of the room amplifying the thunder of his own conscience. The crown, which had felt like a glorious prize, now felt like a curse forged in Sunghoon’s pain.

Chapter Text

Three days after Empress Sunghoon regained consciousness, Consort Jungwon's labor began abruptly. Jungwon's water broke in the evening, and the entire palace erupted into chaos. Although Sunghoon was strictly confined to his wing to rest, Jungwon's birthing chamber was nearby.

King Jay stood by Jungwon's side, tightly clasping his lover's hand. Jungwon's struggles were intense, and Dr. Lio’s face was etched with worry. Hours dragged on, but the delivery remained difficult.

"Your Majesty, the baby's head is not turning,"

Dr. Lio reported with a heavy voice.

“Consort Jungwon is exhausted. His blood pressure is dropping. If we continue like this, both the baby and the Consort could be in danger."

The chamber shuddered. Jay's face went white with horror. The life of the one he loved and the state's heir were facing an unexpected threat.

Jay was consumed by heartbreak. He knew he had to make a decision to save Jungwon's life.

"Dr. Lio, save Jungwon no matter what! If necessary... if necessary, perform a C-section or whatever it takes. Prioritize the Consort's life," Jay's voice was firm but desperately trembling.

Amidst the pain, Jungwon looked at Jay, his eyes filled not only with physical agony but also with psychological fear.

"Jay..." Jungwon gasped, his voice weak.

“Don't leave me.“

••••

Meanwhile, Sunghoon lay resting in his chamber, yet he heard everything. Jungwon's intense screams, Dr. Lio's urgent instructions, and Jay's worried voice penetrated the cold walls of his chamber.

A strange blend of two emotions filled Sunghoon's heart. The first was human empathy. They were both men carrying life. He understood the pain of labor. Jungwon was not a jealous rival, but the man Jay truly loved.

The second was a bitter hope. If Jungwon died in labor, if the heir died... Sunghoon's child would become the Crown Prince, and all of Sunghoon's suffering would have a purpose.

But this thought made Sunghoon feel even more despicable. His duty and loveless life had reduced him to hoping for his rival's demise. After understanding Jungwon's suffering, like his own physical collapse, Sunghoon's heart was flooded with sorrow.

Sunghoon got out of bed, holding his pregnant abdomen. He slowly walked to the edge of his solitary wing.

Soon, he heard Jay's terrified voice.

“Save him... Do your best to save Jungwon."

Sunghoon gasped with pain. He immediately left his chamber and slowly headed toward Jungwon's birthing room with his labor-inhibited body. He was going not out of duty, but purely out of human empathy.

Outside the birthing chamber door, Sunghoon leaned against the wall and listened. The screams from inside were growing weaker, becoming mere gasps. Sunghoon closed his eyes in agony. His only desire was for Jungwon to survive.

The man who received the warmth of Jay's love did not deserve to die. Although Sunghoon's life was loveless, his suffering had taught him to value his rival's life.

Empress Sunghoon stood outside the birthing chamber door as the silence within froze the atmosphere. After Jungwon's struggles ceased, Sunghoon heard Dr. Lio's exhausted voice.

"Your Majesty... we... we lost the child."

Just four words, yet they were powerful enough to collapse the entire palace.

King Jay stood by Jungwon's bed, his eyes vacant and distant. Jay's face was as cold as ice, as if he hadn't fully registered Dr. Lio's words. His heart, his love, and all his hopes for the future had vanished within this small room.

"Impossible," Jay whispered softly.

“He is my heir... the fruit of our love... you must be mistaken!"

Jay slowly walked toward the lifeless infant, who was covered by a clean white cloth on a nearby cot. He gently pulled the cloth away. The baby's pale face held only an innocent stillness. This was the child who was supposed to be Jay's true heir. Now, he was lifeless.

Jay held the dearest product of his love in his hands and wept silently. His shoulders shook, and all the pomp and dignity of the King who controlled the entire state crumbled. He returned to Jungwon's bedside and tightly gripped his lover's hand.

"Jungwon must be alright,"

Jay commanded, looking at Dr. Lio.

“He must live. Without him... I cannot go on."

Jay had been willing to revoke the secret decree that was cruel to Sunghoon, but now all his royal authority could not even save his beloved's life.

Sunghoon stood outside the door and heard Jay's soundless weeping and the raw truth of the loss. This moment became Sunghoon's most profound psychological trauma.

A complex wave of anguish washed over his heart.

Chapter Text

The devastating news of Consort Jungwon's stillbirth sent a shockwave through the palace. The hope for the Crown Prince had been destroyed. Grief overwhelmed the royal family, rapidly transforming into a complex, sorrowful obsession directed at the only remaining life—Empress Sunghoon's unborn child.

The grand birthing chamber, so recently filled with the anticipation of new life, was now terrifyingly silent. The air was thick with the scent of blood, sorrow, and abrupt failure.

Jungwon lay weak and pale on the silken sheets, his body wracked by the hollow tremors of loss. In his arms rested a small, still bundle swaddled in fine white linen—the son who had never cried, cold and utterly motionless moments after his birth.

Jungwon's lips moved, forming silent, desperate pleas to the child. He pressed his face against the soft linen, unable to accept the horrifying, absolute absence of sound and scent. His own milk, which should have been surging with maternal life, ached in his chest, a painful reminder of a function that had tragically failed.

King Jay stood by the bed, his strong frame bowed and trembling, an Alpha utterly broken by the sight. His face was etched with a raw, visceral grief that went beyond a father’s loss; it was the pain of a King watching the foundation of his deepest affection crumble. He watched Jungwon, whose eyes were dry and vacant, staring only at the quiet bundle in his arms.

Jay reached out a hand, but dared not touch. The silence was louder than any scream.

Finally, the Head Midwife, Lady Cho, approached with the mournful professionalism of her trade.

"Your Majesty... Consort. We must attend to him now. For the Consort’s health, we cannot delay," she whispered.

Jungwon’s head snapped up. His eyes, though hollowed by grief, held a terrifying, fierce glare. "No. You will not touch him. He is mine."

Jay stepped forward, tears silently tracking through the stubble on his cheeks. He knelt beside the bed, his voice thick with agony. “Jungwon, my love. We must. He is at peace now.”

Jay gently peeled Jungwon’s fingers, one by one, from the linen, his touch agonizingly tender.

“It’s time, my heart. Let them take him.”

Jungwon’s strength dissolved into a whimpering despair. He watched, powerless, as the two maids carefully lifted the small bundle and carried it away. The door closed, sealing away the last tangible evidence of his short-lived motherhood.

The empty space in Jungwon’s arms was a vacuum that instantly pulled the air from the room, leaving him gasping on the brink of an emotional collapse.

••••

Hours later, the King still clung to Jungwon, who finally woke from a restless, grief-stricken sleep. His beautiful face was gaunt, his eyes hollowed by an inconsolable grief.

Jay held him tightly, but Jungwon pushed him away slightly, his voice a pitiful, broken whisper.

"Jay... our child... is gone,"

Jungwon choked, tears streaming down his face.

“But... but Sunghoon... my heart is empty, Jay. I can't live with this emptiness."

He gripped Jay's arm, his pale fingers digging in, his eyes pleading with a desperate, childlike intensity. This was more than a wish; it was a demand for survival.

“Give me Sunghoon's baby. Make him mine. Please. I need to hold a child of your blood to survive this. Let me raise him. Let him be ours, completely.”

Jungwon’s raw, sorrowful plea—born out of the extreme, existential pain of a lost future—crushed Jay's last reserves of strength. Jay looked at his Consort, the innocent victim of Jay's own political scheming, and felt an overwhelming, desperate need to soothe his pain, to atone for the tragedy, no matter the cost to anyone else.

In that moment, Jay saw only one path. Sunghoon's child was the only thing that could save Jungwon from the silence, the only thing that could restore the stability Jay had ruined with his clumsy political maneuvers.

It was a cruel exchange, but necessary. Jungwon lost his son; Sunghoon had one to spare. The Crown needed an heir; Jay needed to save his beloved from the grave of grief.

Jay nodded, his own heart breaking under the weight of his promise. His voice was raw with the burden of the terrible decision he was about to enact.

“You will have him, Jungwon. I promise. He will be our son. I will ensure the Empress understands the gravity of the situation and the necessity of this exchange for the sake of the realm... and for you."

The promise, forged in grief and absolute selfishness, sealed the fate of the Empress and established the deepest lie of the monarchy.

••••

Meanwhile, in his isolated wing, Sunghoon, though physically untouched, felt the chilling finality of the tragedy. He heard the political whispers confirming Jungwon's loss. His initial surge of human empathy was swiftly replaced by the cold, horrifying political reality: his child was now the state's sole, uncontested heir.

He gently touched his pregnant belly, a movement full of dawning, terrifying awareness. He had never bonded with this child out of love, having accepted its political destiny. Now, he knew his baby would not inherit a secure future, but the desperate, sorrowful claim of Jungwon and the bitter, vengeful resolve of Jay.

Jay would allow Jungwon's grief to become the foundation for raising the Crown Prince. Sunghoon's child would be stripped away to serve as a psychological balm for his rival.

That same night, driven by his need to protect Jungwon's fragile sanity, Jay secretly summoned Lord Kim, the Head of Legal Affairs, and issued a new, final command—one of pure, emotional cruelty.

"Empress Sunghoon is forbidden from leaving the palace after giving birth. The child is to be immediately proclaimed Crown Prince and placed under the direct care of Consort Jungwon,"

Jay's voice was flat and devoid of emotion.

“The Empress's access to the child must be strictly limited. He may not nurse or raise the child himself."

Jay had found the most painful way to ensure Sunghoon would continue to suffer for his duty. Sunghoon's child, the only fruit of his agonizing sacrifice, would be raised by the one man Jay truly loved. Sunghoon would be reduced to a Royal Broodmare—a prisoner forced to watch his own child be claimed by his rival, enduring the torment of seeing his child receive the love that Sunghoon himself was denied.

Lord Kim gasped, his breath hitching.

“Your Majesty! This will be a severe punishment for the Empress. To separate the Empress from his child... that is the greatest agony for a parent!"

"It is punishment," Jay responded, his voice raspy with bitterness and self-loathing. "Tell him the decree. And ensure it is enforced."

••••

Sunghoon heard the cruel command through Dr. Lio while preparations for his birthing chamber were underway. There was no physical collapse upon hearing the news, but a profound, frozen emptiness and devastation settled in his eyes, cementing his lack of power in the face of the King's will.

"He... he will give the child to Jungwon..."

Sunghoon whispered softly. His only hope, the only tangible symbol of his agonizing love and sacrifice, would be violently seized from his grasp.

Sunghoon suddenly pressed his hand to his abdomen. The baby inside gave a gentle kick. This child, born beyond all Sunghoon's suffering, was the first being to stir a pure, uncalculated parental instinct in his cold, dutiful heart.

"Dr. Lio..." Sunghoon's voice was a strained control, barely above a whisper. "After I give birth... please, I beg you. Ask His Majesty to allow me to hold my son for just a moment. Not even a minute is needed. Just let me hold him once."

Jay's cruelty went beyond breaking Sunghoon's sense of duty; it shattered his parental soul. Jay had not ended Sunghoon's political life, but he had killed his life as a parent. Sunghoon had sacrificed his entire existence for the state, and now, even his own child would be paid as a cold political fine.

He swallowed his pain in silence, waiting for the moment of birth.

Chapter Text

Shortly after Consort Jungwon's devastating loss, the event that King Jay simultaneously dreaded and desperately needed began: Empress Sunghoon's labor started late one night. Due to his prolonged physical and emotional stress, Dr. Lio had anticipated a difficult, emergency delivery, and Sunghoon's birthing chamber was filled with a quiet, professional dread.

By Jay's explicit order, Sunghoon's delivery was strictly monitored by silent guards posted just beyond the chamber doors. Jay himself did not attend, remaining in Jungwon's wing to offer comfort and uphold the illusion of their shared grief. Sunghoon was thus forced to bring the state's guarantee into the world in utter, enforced solitude, attended only by the nervous beta physician, Dr. Lio, and two midwives.

The chamber was dimly lit, draped in shadow that seemed to swallow the warmth. Sunghoon lay on the birthing bed, his omega scent, usually clean and crisp, now sharp with exertion and a deep, underlying sorrow.

The labor was brutal and protracted. With each agonizing wave, his back arched, and the air would hiss between his teeth. He bit back the urge to scream, replacing it with a guttural, strained sound—the bare, involuntary language of a body under siege.

“Ah,” he moaned, a sound wrenched from his deepest core, heavy with pain as the contraction crested. He gripped the edges of the bed, knuckles white, eyes squeezed shut. The midwives whispered instructions, but their voices sounded distant, muffled by the roaring pressure. He pushed, driven by the fierce, primal will to simply bring the agony to an end. His face was slick with sweat, his unbound hair clinging to his temples.

Then, as the first pale light of dawn began to bleed through the window, staining the chamber a faint, hopeful gray, the agony reached its peak. With one final, wrenching push that pulled a shuddering gasp from his lips, Empress Sunghoon gave birth.

The immediate silence that followed was broken by a sound that instantly shattered the quiet dread: the baby's loud, robust cry.

It was a strong, healthy sound—a powerful surge of primal life. The midwives instantly moved, cleaning and wrapping the Prince. The cry was pure, and it echoed off the heavy stone walls.

Sunghoon’s body slumped back onto the wet sheets, his eyes flying open. For the barest moment, he saw his son, a wriggling, red-faced being whose scent—fresh alpha,powerful and dull—hit him with the force of an overwhelming, instantaneous bond. The sight, the sound, the undeniable life was intoxicating.

After gently attending to the infant, Dr. Lio, his movements heavy with regret, approached. He reluctantly placed the newborn, still flushed and wrinkled, into Sunghoon’s arms for one brief, stolen moment.

"Empress," Dr. Lio whispered, his voice thick with professional respect and personal pity, "this is His Majesty's son, the Crown Prince."

Sunghoon felt the delicate weight of his own flesh and blood in his embrace for the very first time. The baby’s gentle, unexpected warmth was a shock that momentarily thawed the ice encasing Sunghoon’s heart. He looked down at the innocent, trusting face of his child, and the years of emotional restraint fractured. Tears streamed down his face—not the tears of a dutiful consort, but the genuine, overwhelming tears of a parent.

”My child..." he choked out, his voice barely a breath, as he lowered his head and pressed a soft, desperate kiss to the baby's forehead. “Forgive your parent for being unable to offer you warm love."

This was Sunghoon's minute of happiness as a parent, allowing him to briefly forget all his duties.

At that exact moment, King Jay entered the birthing chamber with Lord Kim. Jay's face was rigid with grief, regret, and resentment. He avoided looking at the baby in Sunghoon's arms.

Jay’s eyes were fixed only on Dr. Lio and Lord Kim, his voice sharp and unwavering, a command that admitted no debate:

“Take the child to Consort Jungwon's chamber."

Dr. Lio bowed, his own heart aching, and moved forward to perform the most painful duty of his long career—to take the baby from the mother’s embrace.

Sunghoon instinctively tightened his hold on the infant and looked up at Jay. His eyes had utterly transformed: the coldness of duty was gone, replaced by the blazing, desperate plea of a parent fighting for his young.

"Your Majesty... please... allow me a few more hours... to be with him," he begged, the words tearing from his throat.

Jay finally met Sunghoon's desperate gaze. He saw the true, raw agony reflected there, but his resolve remained hardened. The need to avenge Jungwon’s loss, to fill the gaping void in his beloved consort's life, superseded all empathy. He looked directly into Sunghoon's eyes, his resolve unwavering, still refusing to acknowledge the child they had created.

"Impossible, Empress," Jay said, his voice flat and brutally cold. “Your duty is fulfilled. The Crown Prince must be adopted by Consort Jungwon. He is in need of the heir.”

At the king’s final, unyielding command, Dr. Lio gently, but firmly, took the baby from Sunghoon's arms. Sunghoon could not fight back; his limbs were leaden, his body weak from the physical trauma. He maintained his posture only by a last, desperate reserve of strength, refusing to allow himself the oblivion of collapsing onto the cold stone floor.

Through his tears, Sunghoon watched as his child was carried away, his eyes fixed on the retreating bundle. The baby's cries slowly faded, leaving a vast, echoing silence in the chamber. Sunghoon's arms were horribly empty, and his entire heart felt as if it had been violently torn apart, a screaming wound left open to the cold air.

He had sacrificed his whole life for duty. Now, with his child forcefully handed over to be a salve for Jay and Jungwon's sorrow, Empress Sunghoon had become the palace's most utterly pitiful prisoner, condemned to a silent, empty existence.

••••

The Crown Prince was carried immediately, wrapped in thick white linen, down the hall to Consort Jungwon’s wing. Jungwon lay pale and exhausted in his massive bed, his eyes hollowed by the grief of losing his own child just days before. King Jay followed close behind the silent procession. The moment Dr. Lio presented the infant, Jay dismissed the guards and ordered the door closed, creating a sanctum of false domesticity.

Jungwon watched the baby being placed carefully beside him. He did not ask questions about anything
—that part of the political transaction was mercifully absent from his consciousness. All he saw was the fulfillment of his King's promise: a newborn Prince to erase the pain of the last few days.

Jay leaned over his consort, his face tender with a mixture of love and relief. "Look, my love. A son. Our son. The Crown Prince."

Jungwon reached out a trembling hand, his fingers brushing the infant’s soft, sweet-smelling cheek. The baby, sensing warmth, let out a small, satisfied sigh and settled against the pillow. A single, silent tear tracked down Jungwon's temple and into his hair.

"He is beautiful," Jungwon whispered, his voice catching. The overwhelming presence of the healthy newborn seemed to immediately soothe the raw edges of his sorrow, a sudden, fierce rush of parental instinct replacing his grief. He carefully drew the child closer, burying his face in the soft blanket. He felt the light, powerful alpha scent of the infant—the scent of a prince—and his own heart swelled, accepting the gift and the illusion without question.

Jay watched them, an alpha gazing upon his new family unit. The political crisis was averted. The successor was secured. He had broken Sunghoon to save Jungwon, and seeing the light return to his lover’s eyes, Jay found the brutal cost suddenly bearable. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently kissed the top of Jungwon’s head, placing his hand over the small, warm body of the child who would now bear their name. Crown Prince’s life began under the shadow of a lie.

Chapter Text

Consort Jungwon quickly took to his new role as the primary caregiver for the Crown Prince. The infant, named Ni-ki by the King and the Consort, became the anchor that pulled Jungwon back from the edge of inconsolable grief. For King Jay, the return of Jungwon’s radiant smile was proof that his cruel decision had been necessary and justified.

Jungwon's deep, sorrowful obsession with the child was immediate and absolute. Ni-ki’s cradle was placed beside Jungwon’s bed, and the Consort refused to be separated from the infant, despite the royal wet nurse and several dedicated servants being assigned to the nursery.

Jungwon, who had no experience with children, spent every waking moment watching the sleeping Prince. He learned to differentiate every cry and ensured that Ni-ki was swaddled, fed, and comforted at the slightest stirring. His love was intense, possessive, and tinged with the desperation of someone clinging to the only piece of light in a dark world.

To the outside world, Consort Jungwon had transformed into a doting mother. He was often seen rocking Ni-ki and softly singing to him, his voice regaining the gentle tone that grief had stripped away. The palace breathed a collective sigh of relief, grateful to see the beloved Consort recover. They admired his strength in raising the Crown Prince, conveniently forgetting the biological parent imprisoned in another wing.

••••

Empress Sunghoon remained in his chamber, confined by exhaustion and the silent decree of the King. His body, recovering from the physical trauma of childbirth, felt heavy and strange, a vessel suddenly empty of its vital purpose.

The chamber that had witnessed his agonizing labor was now utterly silent, scrubbed clean of any trace of the birth. Sunghoon lay in his great, cold bed, his arms still aching from the brief, desperate moment he had held his son. He felt the phantom weight of the infant against his chest, a sensation that made his heart clench and his throat burn.

His omega scent, which had been powerfully sweet with new fatherhood, now felt sour and stale with unused milk and crushing grief. The biological imperative to nurture, violently severed, was the most acute torture. His breasts ached, a cruel, physical reminder of the life that had been snatched away to feed another's happiness.

••••

King Jay began making regular, lengthy visits to Jungwon’s chambers. These visits were no longer burdened by guilt or sorrow; they were filled with the light sound of a baby and the genuine happiness of his Consort. Jay would stand beside Jungwon, watching Ni-ki sleep, fully embracing the notion that this was their son.

The King strictly adhered to his own cruel command regarding Empress Sunghoon. Sunghoon was officially permitted only one supervised, brief visit per week, held in a cold, neutral receiving room—not the nursery.

The first such encounter was a quiet agony. Sunghoon entered the room, his regal composure a brittle shield against the devastation within. Jungwon sat proudly, holding Ni-ki to his chest.

"Empress Sunghoon,"

Jungwon greeted him formally, his gaze unwavering, possessive.

“You may observe the Crown Prince."

Sunghoon’s eyes locked onto his son. Ni-ki was healthy and well-cared for, dressed in the luxurious clothes of an heir. Sunghoon's mind, always sharp, noted every detail—the shape of Ni-ki’s ears, the slight dimple on his cheek. He was forced to drink the memory of his child, knowing he could never taste the joy of holding him.

Sunghoon did not reach out. He knew his touch would be deemed an act of aggression or an attempt to "bond," which the King had forbidden. Instead, he forced his body to remain still, his hands clasped tightly behind his back—a parent forbidden the most basic instinct.

"He is a fine Prince, Consort Jungwon,"

Sunghoon said, his voice a low, emotionless monotone.

“He has the King's strong features. I trust his care is adequate."

Jungwon shifted, instinctively pulling Ni-ki closer. The Empress’s coldness, rather than hurting Jungwon, simply reinforced his own right to possess the child. Sunghoon was the cold, distant biological parent; Jungwon was the loving, devoted mother.

Jay, who observed the meeting, was satisfied. Sunghoon’s reserved behavior confirmed the narrative: Sunghoon had birthed the heir out of duty, but lacked the love or maternal instinct to raise him. He did not see the minute, almost imperceptible trembling of Sunghoon's lower lip as he looked at the child, nor the pain burning behind the Empress's icy mask.

••••

Confined to his isolated wing, Sunghoon could not fight with political power or confrontation. His only weapon was his mind. He instructed Dr. Lio to secretly gather information.

"Observe the Prince's habits," Sunghoon commanded.

“The frequency of his feedings, the temperature of the nursery, and any signs of discomfort. I must ensure the Consort's deep feelings do not lead to careless error."

Dr. Lio protested gently.

“Your Majesty, Consort Jungwon is meticulously devoted to the Prince."

"Devotion is not competence, Dr. Lio," Sunghoon countered, his eyes flashing with icy resolve.

“I sacrificed everything for this child's survival and ascent to the throne. If the King prevents me from being his father, I will be his unseen guardian. I will be the ghost who ensures he lives long enough to wear the Crown."

Sunghoon began compiling a detailed mental record of his son’s schedule and health. He planned to use his limited access and political influence to remotely guide the child’s upbringing, a chilling form of parental intervention from his gilded prison. The Empress was broken, but his resolve to fulfill his life's purpose—to raise a perfect heir—was absolute, even if that raising had to be conducted in secret, from afar.

Chapter Text

The new routine in Consort Jungwon's wing was one of feigned domestic perfection. Crown Prince Ni-ki was well-cared for, but his consistent refusal to accept milk from the royal wet nurse remained a critical and frightening problem. The King's strict order against Sunghoon's involvement began to crack under the weight of biological necessity.

Despite the rotation of several highly recommended wet nurses, Crown Prince Ni-ki was starving. His constant, weak, pained crying became a harrowing sound that pierced the tranquility of the nursery. Dr. Lio confirmed the infant was not thriving, rapidly losing weight due to his specific intolerance of the available milk.

King Jay found the nursery in chaos. Jungwon was frantic, holding the wailing Prince with tears streaming down his face.

"He won't stop crying, Jay! What is wrong with him? Why won't he eat?"

"We have tried everything, Consort," Dr. Lio admitted, his voice tight with desperation.

“We believe the Prince requires the precise, unique composition of milk from his biological parent. His body is rejecting all other sources."

Jungwon looked down at the tiny, distressed Prince, his love warring violently with his pride. He was forced to endure the single most painful truth: the child he desperately wanted to raise as his own would die without the help of his rival.

"No," Jungwon whispered, clutching Ni-ki tighter.

“Find another way. I won't let him take this from me. I won't let him near my son, Jay!"

King Jay approached Jungwon, placing a firm, controlling hand on his Consort's shoulder. He was shattered by Jungwon's pain, but the life of the heir came first.

"Look at him, Jungwon," Jay said sternly, nodding toward the crying Prince. "The state requires this child to live. Your well-being requires him to live. If we do not act now, the Throne will be empty."

Jay made the devastating decision. He knew he had to grant Sunghoon access, but he also had to protect Jungwon's fragile sanity.

"We will bring the Empress," Jay stated, his voice ringing with reluctant authority.

••••

The order was sent to Empress Sunghoon. He was to move into a small, secured chamber near the nursery, but strictly isolated from both the main court and Jungwon's wing.

When the Head Servant came to take the wailing Prince for the first feeding, Jungwon’s tears flowed freely. He gently kissed Ni-ki's forehead, pressing his own scent onto the baby, as if to counteract the power of Sunghoon’s impending touch.

"Be strong, my son," Jungwon choked out, before relinquishing the Prince. He then sank onto his bed, his heart heavy with the crushing awareness that the child he considered his own was now dependent on the man he hated the most.

••••

In the secluded chamber, Empress Sunghoon received his son. When the crying baby was placed in his arms, the infant's distress instantly calmed upon recognizing the familiar biological scent.

Sunghoon began to nurse the child, a profound wave of relief and fierce proprietorship washing over him. He was alone; the King's guard ensured his privacy. This was his hour. He held his son close, knowing that every feeding was a quiet victory—a necessary defiance of the King’s political cruelty. The more Ni-ki thrived, the more powerful and indispensable Sunghoon became.

In the secluded, silent chamber, Empress Sunghoon received his son. The moment the crying baby was placed in his arms, the infant’s distress instantly calmed upon recognizing the familiar biological scent. Ni-ki settled against Sunghoon's chest with a sigh of profound relief, his tiny body relaxing for the first time in days.

Sunghoon looked down at the miniature, vulnerable life clinging to him. He was alone; the King's guard outside the door ensured his absolute privacy. This was his hour.

As Sunghoon gently began to nurse the child, a profound wave of relief, fierce proprietorship, and a burgeoning, protective love washed over him. The baby’s mouth latched, and the silence that followed was heavy and sacred. The frantic, weak whimpers were replaced by the soft, rhythmic sounds of suckling—the definitive sound of life returning.

Sunghoon felt the subtle tug, the primal connection, and a strength flooded back into his own exhausted body. He held his son close, his gaze soft, knowing that every single feeding was a quiet victory—a necessary defiance of the King’s political cruelty. The more Ni-ki thrived and grew strong at his breast, the more powerful and indispensable Sunghoon, the Iron Shield, became.

He whispered no words, only allowing his natural omega scent—warm, calming, and unmistakably maternal—to fully embrace and reassure the baby. He was not just performing a task; he was establishing a fact of nature. He was forging the bond of life and sustenance, an invisible, indelible tie that no decree or political maneuver could ever truly sever. For these few crucial moments each day, he was not the political Empress, but simply Ni-ki’s parent,giving what only he could provide.

Chapter Text

The arrangement for the feedings continued, carving a painful routine into the lives of the Royal Family. Empress Sunghoon was granted brief, solitary moments of true parenthood, while Consort Jungwon endured the isolation, clinging to the political truth that the child was his.

In his isolated chamber, the hour spent feeding Crown Prince Ni-ki became Sunghoon's most treasured and most devastating time of the day. The room itself was opulent, adorned with silks and jade, yet it felt cold and cavernous—a gilded cage where he performed his most intimate, yet hidden, duty. As the Head Servant, Misa, carefully placed the warm, soft bundle into his arms, the Empress's cold, regal composure would momentarily fracture. The weight of the child was a physical anchor in his tumultuous life.

He didn't just hold the baby; he held his entire sacrificed existence. The faint, sweet smell of the nursery that clung to Ni-ki was a heartbreaking contrast to the sterile, dry air of his own chambers.

Sunghoon would gently unfasten his robes, the material a silk barrier between his duty and his heart. The smooth, cool fabric falling away felt like the shedding of his Empress title, revealing the vulnerable core of a father. As Ni-ki nestled close, the instinctual rooting and suckling were overwhelming. The rhythmic tug was a profound, almost spiritual connection, a secret dialogue between them that no edict or political machination could sever. The simple, raw act of nurturing his son was the most profound validation of his suffering. It was proof that he mattered to this small, vital life, even if he mattered to no one else.

During these feedings, Sunghoon allowed himself to be the father he was forbidden to be. He would adjust his posture to ensure Ni-ki was perfectly comfortable, shifting his hips and shoulders until the cradle of his arms was ideal. His movements were no longer calculating, but gentle and slow, filled with a deep, careful reverence. He'd gaze down at the tiny, content face—a miniature replica of King Jay—and a wave of aching tenderness would wash over him, a love so pure it was almost physically painful.

"My little Prince," he whispered, his voice catching slightly, the sound barely audible above the soft, rhythmic sounds of Ni-ki feeding. He watched the delicate flutter of the baby’s eyelids, the tiny, perfect curve of his nose.

"You are safe here. You are loved here." He needed Ni-ki to hear it, but more desperately, he needed to say it, to believe that this secret love offered some protection.

He often pressed his lips gently against Ni-ki's temple, taking in the sweet, milky scent of his child. This intimacy was a thief, stealing his resolve and replacing it with pure, vulnerable emotion. The silence of the room, broken only by the baby and his own shallow breaths, magnified the depth of his secret joy and his unending sorrow.

••••

One afternoon, the emotional strain became too much. The political and personal realities, usually held firmly
at bay by his iron will, converged. As Ni-ki nursed contentedly, his tiny hand resting against Sunghoon's chest, a gesture of casual trust, Sunghoon felt the crushing weight of his reality: he was essential for his son's life, yet utterly dispensable to his son's future. The very moment of bonding was a countdown to a separation enforced by the Crown.

A single, hot tear escaped the corner of Sunghoon's eye and tracked silently down his cheek, following a path carved by loneliness and sacrifice. It fell, a burning droplet, onto Ni-ki's soft swaddling cloth, disappearing quickly into the thick, absorbent cotton. He quickly covered his mouth with his free hand, his fingers pressing hard against his lips, stifling a small, choked sound that was more a gasp of pain than a sob. He didn't want the guards outside, or the Head Servant, to hear the sound of the Empress breaking. The shame of his emotional weakness was nearly as great as the pain of his heart. He silently willed his other tears to stay trapped, tightening his throat and clenching his jaw until the muscles ached.

He finished the feeding, his eyes burning with unshed tears, yet his movements remained perfectly precise, a testament to years of rigorous court training. He gently coaxed the baby away, a small, involuntary whimper escaping Ni-ki’s lips before he settled. Sunghoon lingered for only a moment longer than necessary, pressing Ni-ki's tiny form against his shoulder for a final, desperate hug, inhaling one last, lingering breath of the milky scent. It was a silent plea to his son, a memory he hoped to store away for the desolate hours ahead.

When the Head Servant returned to retrieve the Prince, Sunghoon was once again the composed, icy Empress, his face flawlessly masked. The process of handing Ni-ki over was brutal, a wrenching of soul from body. But the servant noticed something small: a damp patch on the swaddling cloth near the shoulder, a silent testament to the solitary agony in the Empress's chamber.

••••

The Head Servant, a woman named Misa, was deeply sympathetic to Sunghoon, having witnessed his quiet suffering. She knew the unnaturalness of the arrangement and the true parentage of the child. She was also terrified of Consort Jungwon and King Jay's orders; her life, and perhaps her family’s safety, depended on her absolute discretion. The damp patch she saw told a clear story—a story she was forbidden to voice.

When she returned Ni-ki to Jungwon's nursery, the atmosphere was immediately tense. Jungwon was waiting, perched by the crib, radiating an anxious possessiveness. He immediately inspected the child, his eyes sharp, checking for any lingering scent or sign of bonding that might betray the true link between Empress and Prince. His suspicion was a palpable thing in the room. He noticed the wet patch on the swaddling cloth and frowned, running his finger over the damp fabric, his expression darkening with displeasure.

"What is this?" Jungwon demanded, his voice sharp with suspicion, slicing through the tense silence. He held the cloth closer to the light, inspecting it as if it held a state secret.

“Is he drooling? Or did the Empress wet the child's clothes?" The implication was clear: either the Empress was careless, or, worse, she had cried and exposed her emotions.

Misa, remembering the agonizing composure of Sunghoon, the almost physical effort it took to mask his pain, hesitated. She could not reveal the Empress's tears; it would be a humiliation and a political risk that could destroy Sunghoon and certainly her. She thought quickly, her mind racing to find a plausible, non-emotional excuse.

"Forgive me, Consort Jungwon," Misa stammered, bowing low, her eyes fixed on the floor. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She was lying to a powerful member of the Royal Family, but the lie was an act of profound loyalty.

“The Empress stated the Prince was distressed at the end of the feeding and may have... coughed. A forceful cough, Consort. I will change the swaddling immediately." She kept her tone even, praying the Consort would accept the simple, domestic explanation rather than suspect the deeper, emotional truth.

Chapter Text

The continued reports of Crown Prince Ni-ki thriving, coupled with the subtle yet distinct scent of Empress Sunghoon's clinging to the infant upon his return, drove Consort Jungwon to the brink of despair. He knew Sunghoon was establishing a forbidden bond, and his grief-fueled possessiveness demanded that the intimate arrangement cease.

The Head Servant Misa, now carefully protecting Sunghoon's secret agony, tried to discreetly change Ni-ki's swaddling and robes immediately after his feedings. But the powerful omega scent of the Empress—icy, clear, and possessive—was a biological marker that Jungwon could not ignore.

Jungwon would passionately clean and comfort Ni-ki, trying to overlay Sunghoon’s scent with his own scent and warmth, but the effort exhausted him. He felt powerless, a political figurehead whose parental role was being undermined by a biological necessity he could not fulfill.

One evening, after Ni-ki returned particularly content and drowsy, Jungwon noticed the baby nestled his head against Jungwon’s shoulder, making a soft, familiar sigh—a clear sign of deep, recent comfort. This small, innocent gesture shattered Jungwon. It was a sign that Ni-ki recognized and trusted the arms that held him during those secret hours.

Jungwon, driven by pain and jealousy, stormed into King Jay’s private study.

••••

"The feedings must stop, Jay," Jungwon declared, his voice trembling but firm.

“I don't care what the physicians say. I will not have him continue to mark my son with his presence."

King Jay sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Jungwon, you know the Prince is thriving only because of this. He nearly died before! We cannot risk it."

"Risk it for him!" Jungwon cried, his voice laced with anguish.

"He is using this, Jay! He's telling the court and telling me that the child is his! He is stealing the love that is rightfully mine!"

Jungwon collapsed onto the floor, clutching Jay’s robe.

“I am going mad, Jay. If this continues, my sanity will not hold. Find another solution! Use goat’s milk, use foreign medicine, but take him away from Sunghoon!"

Jay looked down at his beloved Consort, utterly broken by the promise he had made. The sight of Jungwon's complete devastation was far more painful than any political crisis.

However, a sliver of disappointment and fatigue broke through Jay’s pity. He had sacrificed his political honor and Sunghoon's well-being to save Jungwon, yet Jungwon's possessiveness continued to threaten the heir.

"Jungwon," Jay said, his voice flat, tinged with weariness.

"You have the child, and you have my love. Is that not enough? Must you risk his life to erase the mere scent of his father?"

Jungwon’s eyes widened at the unexpected weariness in Jay’s voice.

“It's about the bond, Jay! He is building a bond that will make Ni-ki look for him, not me!"

Jay suppressed a sigh. He knew he couldn't reason with this grief-fueled paranoia. He needed to protect Jungwon, even if the request was selfish and childish.

Jay's final decision was made out of a desperate, selfish need to protect Jungwon's mental state.

"Get up, Jungwon," Jay commanded, helping him rise.

“I will handle this."

Jay summoned Dr. Lio and issued a new decree, overriding all previous medical counsel.

"The Empress's participation is terminated, effective immediately," Jay stated, his voice devoid of emotion.

“The Prince must be weaned onto alternatives within the next three days. You will use any means necessary to ensure his survival, but he will not return to the Empress's chamber."

Dr. Lio protested vehemently.

“Your Majesty, this is highly dangerous! Forcing the weaning process could lead to severe health complications!"

"Then you will work miracles, Doctor," Jay responded with cold finality.

“But the Empress is not to touch my son again. I have chosen the mother who is present over the father who is merely essential."

Jay had chosen Jungwon's emotional stability over the certain, biological safety of his heir. Sunghoon's hour of stolen solace was brutally over.

••••

The order was delivered to Empress Sunghoon by a nervous court official. Sunghoon listened to the terms—immediate termination of the feedings and forced weaning—and his face did not betray a flicker of emotion, though his eyes darkened with a cold, terrifying comprehension.

He didn't ask about Jungwon; he asked about the child.

"Is the new milk stable, or is the Prince facing distress?"

Sunghoon asked the official, his voice dangerously soft.
The official stammered,

“D-Dr. Lio expressed... considerable concern, Your Majesty. It is a high risk."

Sunghoon closed his eyes, his hands clenching tight beneath his sleeves. Jay had not only taken the last piece of Sunghoon’s heart, but he was now knowingly risking their son's life for Jungwon's comfort.

Sunghoon opened his eyes, now burning with icy resolve. He had lost the comfort of touch, but he still had his mind and his influence.

"Inform Dr. Lio," Sunghoon commanded, his tone instantly shifting from sorrow to strategy.

“Tell him that I will not protest the King's will. However, he is to send me a complete, daily report on the Prince's weight and feeding intake”

Chapter Text

The forceful weaning, driven by King Jay's need to protect Consort Jungwon's feelings, immediately plunged the palace into a new crisis. Empress Sunghoon's isolation was political, but his intelligence network—reinforced by Dr. Lio's fear and the Empress's threats—kept him informed of every dangerous dip in Crown Prince Ni-ki's health.

Within two days of the termination of the Empress's milk, Ni-ki's condition deteriorated severely. The alternatives—foreign milk and herbal supplements—proved inadequate. The Prince's weight plummeted, and his delicate digestive system rejected the forced diet. His consistent, weak, and pained crying filled Jungwon's nursery, turning the room of supposed joy into a chamber of dread.

Jungwon was frantic. He held the wailing Prince tightly, rocking him, singing to him, but nothing worked. The child was fading in his arms, the thin wails a constant, terrifying accusation. Jungwon felt utter terror and an overwhelming sense of failure.

That night, the crisis reached its peak. Ni-ki began to convulse slightly, his skin turning pale, his breathing shallow. Dr. Lio was summoned and immediately recognized the grave danger: the Prince was suffering from severe malnutrition and dehydration, a direct consequence of the King's order.

The devastating news reached Empress Sunghoon through a terrified Misa. Sunghoon's carefully constructed composure shattered. All political maneuvering, all icy resolve, vanished in a surge of primal, parental fear. He ran from his isolated chamber towards the King's private wing, his regal robes flying behind him.

Ignoring the guards and all protocol, Sunghoon bolted from his chamber and ran through the palace halls. He burst into King Jay's private study, his breathing ragged, his magnificent robes flying behind him.

Jay, startled, looked up to see a sight he had never witnessed: the proud, controlled Empress utterly undone. Sunghoon’s face was contorted with agonizing fear, his eyes already overflowing with tears.

Sunghoon didn't slow. He rushed directly at the King, throwing himself against Jay in a desperate, frantic embrace, collapsing against his chest.

"Jay!" Sunghoon choked out, his voice a raw, heartbreaking sound of pure agony.

“You are killing him! You are letting our son die for a lie!"

His hands, not hard but fiercely determined, rose and began to beat Jay’s chest with small, frantic, tear-soaked fists. The blows held no pain, but they conveyed the utter devastation of a father whose child was being taken by the cruelest enemy: necessity.

"Why did you do like that to him?!" Sunghoon sobbed, clinging to Jay's robe as his legs gave out.

“I beg you, Jay! I will give up the crown! I will leave the palace forever! But please, don't let him die! He is the only thing I need!”

Jay was frozen, the shock of the Empress's physical and emotional breakdown stunning him. He felt the rapid, desperate pounding of Sunghoon’s heart against his own, and the raw, hot tears soaking his tunic. The overwhelming pity and remorse for the suffering he had inflicted finally broke through his defenses. He saw not a rival, but the broken parent of his child.

Jay gently wrapped his arms around the weeping Empress, accepting the blows and the condemnation as the penance he deserved.

"Sunghoon... I'm sorry," Jay murmured, his voice heavy with self-loathing.

“I see it now.!I was trying to protect—"

Sunghoon sharply pulled back, though his hands still gripped Jay's shirt. His eyes, burning through the tears, were intensely focused.

”Jay. Let me provide the milk. I will not condemn my son to an emotional tug-of-war. I will not hold him or touch him. I will just give him the milk.”

Jay looked at the Empress, pale and trembling but absolutely resolute. He had chosen the feelings of one over the life of the other, and the Crown Prince had paid the price.

Jay’s heart is aching.

“Sunghoon, I am not asking for that immense burden. You can—“

Sunghoon cuts him off, his voice flat with finality.

“No. Because a bond is dangerous, Jay. It breeds the exact jealousy that is killing our son. The little prince needs life,not a reason for political conflict. If he is to live, I can be nothing more than a necessary resource.”

Jay’s breaking with profound sadness.

“I accept,Sunghoon. You will administer the milk through the pacifier, as you said.You will not touch him. I will not ask you to.”

“Thanks,Your Majesty”

After King Jay heartbrokenly accepted the terms of the sterile bargain—the agreement that Empress Sunghoon would provide the life-saving milk via a pacifier without any touch or scent—Sunghoon simply gave a cold, formal response.

“My gratitude is for the Prince's life. Dr. Lio will receive my specific dietary requirements immediately to ensure the milk's optimal quality.”

Sunghoon’s thanks was not a sincere expression of gratitude to Jay for his compassion, but a chilling confirmation that the King had finally fulfilled his duty to the Crown Prince.

Then he left.

Jay stood motionless where Sunghoon had left him, his hand still resting on the spot on his chest where the Empress's small, frantic fists had landed moments earlier. He could still feel the phantom pressure of those blows and the dampness of Sunghoon’s tears on his robe.

He sank slowly onto his chair, his posture defeated. He had just witnessed the proudest person he knew beg and then sacrifice his most fundamental biological right—his Alpha scent and the touch of his child—all to protect the Crown Prince's life and the King's political narrative.

The immense guilt of forcing this decision upon Sunghoon was crushing. Jay knew he had chosen Consort Jungwon's fragile comfort over the Empress's profound, desperate love.

Jay slowly rose, his mind heavy with the burden of his decisions. He had sanctioned a profound act of cruelty, but he had secured the heir. He was the King, the Consort's protector, and the father—but in that moment, he felt more like the villain of his own story.

Chapter Text

Jay’s promise to Sunghoon was the bitterest he had ever made. He had not just agreed to a sterile feeding routine; he had signed the decree for a parent’s exile—sanctioned by the parent himself. Sunghoon's final, chilling formality, "My gratitude is for the Prince's life," echoed as a condemnation. It stripped Jay of any solace that he was acting as a compassionate husband or father. He was merely an instrument, late in fulfilling a duty that had almost cost his son his life.

Jay finally rose, driven by the immediate, practical terror that still reigned in the nursery. He had to face Consort Jungwon.

He found Jungwon in the nursery, a portrait of utter breakdown. The Consort was curled in a chair, shaking violently, his face white, the sound of Crown Prince Ni-ki's weak, uneven breathing tearing at his composure. The tiny, fragile prince was now in a basinette, attended by Dr. Lio, who was administering a temporary rehydration fluid. The convulsions had stopped, but the immediate threat remained.

"Jungwon," Jay said softly, moving to his side.

Jungwon flinched, pulling away when Jay reached for him. His large, beautiful eyes, usually so expressive, were vacant with horror.

“Jay," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"He’s dying. He’s dying and I don’t know how to stop it. I… I wanted to be a mother to him, but I've failed."

Tears finally spilled, but they were silent, tears of pure, consuming fear.

Jay knelt, gently taking the Consort's shaking hands.

"You have done everything, my love. It is not your failure. It was mine. My choice," he admitted, the words tasting like ash.

“But I have found the solution. The Prince will be fed safely now."

Jungwon looked up, a flicker of desperate hope in his eyes.

"The foreign milk? Did we get more?"

Jay avoided his gaze.

"No. The foreign milk is inadequate. The Empress...
he will provide the necessary milk."

The color drained from Jungwon’s face, replacing the fear with a deep, immediate shock.

“Sunghoon? You are letting him… touch Ni-ki again?
Jay, I thought you said—"

"No, Jungwon," Jay interrupted, holding his hands tighter.

"He will not touch him. Sunghoon has imposed the terms himself. The milk will be given via a pacifier, not by hand, and he will never touch the Crown Prince. He has agreed to remove his scent—his presence—entirely from the process. It will be a sterile exchange, purely for the Prince's nutrition. No bond will be formed.”

Jungwon stared, trying to reconcile the image of the proud Empress with this astonishing, almost horrific self-sacrifice. He could not speak, the weight of the realization—that his own fragile emotions had pushed a parent to such an extreme act—crushing him. He felt relief, sharp and selfish, but it was immediately smothered by a profound, agonizing guilt.

••••

The logistics were put into terrifyingly efficient motion. Dr. Lio, pale and terrified, was the only messenger between the isolated Empress and the critical Prince.

A few hours before dawn, a silver, sealed vessel arrived in the nursery.

Jungwon watched, heart hammering, as Dr. Lio carefully poured a portion of the thick, rich, fresh Empress's milk into a sterilized bottle. The milk itself was potent—a life-line made palpable.

Dr. Lio warmed the bottle, then attached a small, specially designed rubber pacifier to the nipple. The Prince, weak and barely stirring, was gently roused. Jay held the struggling infant while Dr. Lio carefully placed the pacifier into the Prince's mouth.

The effect was instantaneous and miraculous.

Ni-ki's eyes fluttered. He didn't reject this milk. His tiny lips began to suckle weakly, then with a growing strength. The nourishment, perfectly matched to his biological need, seemed to course through him, warming his pallid skin. The weak, pained whimpering subsided, replaced by the soft, rhythmic sound of steady feeding.

Jungwon collapsed against Jay's shoulder, silent tears finally falling—tears of overwhelming gratitude and terrifying relief. The silence that had fallen upon the nursery was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

The Crown Prince was safe.

••••

As the days turned into a week, the arrangement became the new, horrifying norm. Prince Ni-ki recovered with astonishing speed, gaining weight and strength. He was a bright, happy, healthy baby again, gurgling in Jungwon's arms. Jungwon was a doting, attentive parent, all his fears and doubts seemingly washed away by the joy of the Prince's health. The crisis had passed.

But the palace had changed.

Empress Sunghoon remained in his isolated chamber, a self-imposed prisoner and a life-giving resource. He never asked for updates. He never requested to see the child. He merely produced the milk on schedule, his existence a cold, silent act of salvation. His omega scent was kept meticulously contained, a powerful, protective barrier that never touched the air around his son.

King Jay saw his son thrive, held his Consort close, and performed his royal duties. But the memory of Sunghoon’s pleading, tear-soaked face and the feeling of those small, frantic fists on his chest never left him. He had his heir, his Consort's comfort, and his political stability. Yet, he felt an emptiness where his conscience should have been.

One evening, Jay walked past the nursery, hearing Jungwon’s soft, happy singing. He paused by the door, watching his family. But as he stood there, he felt a profound, chilling sorrow. The life they had saved, the bond they had preserved, was built on a terrible, magnificent sacrifice.

He turned and walked towards the dark, silent wing of the palace where the Empress lived, the wing that now housed the King’s deepest shame and the Crown Prince's secret life-line.

He had promised Sunghoon he wouldn't ask. But tonight, Jay knew he had to face the man he had broken, the man who had traded his love for his son's life.

Chapter Text

The corridor to Empress Sunghoon's sequestered chamber was long, narrow, and dimly lit, emphasizing the deliberate, cruel isolation of the wing. King Jay stopped before the heavy, guarded door, his breath catching in his throat. He did not knock. Instead, he raised his hand and spoke, his voice hoarse from unspoken guilt, the sound echoing in the oppressive silence.

"Empress. It is the King. I must speak with you."

The guard, rigid with duty, hesitated only a moment before opening the door just wide enough for Jay to enter. The room inside was small and sparsely furnished—a stark contrast to the luxurious apartments of the main palace.The only hint of life was a faint, clean omega scent, meticulously contained, yet still subtly present.

Sunghoon was standing by the single window, gazing out at the starless night. He was dressed plainly, his hair pulled back without ornament. His posture was perfectly straight, lacking the regal stiffness of the Empress, yet possessing the absolute, unyielding stillness of a monument. He did not turn.

"Your Majesty has already spoken," Sunghoon replied, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. "Your order was to maintain silence and distance. I am fulfilling my end of the agreement. Is the Prince well?"

Jay stepped fully into the room, the guard closing the door behind him with a soft thud that sealed their confrontation. He clenched his fists, struggling to find the words that wouldn't sound like a fresh betrayal.

"The Prince is thriving," Jay confirmed, the relief in his voice undeniable. "He is gaining weight and sleeps peacefully in Jungwon's arms.You has saved his life."

Sunghoon finally turned, slowly and deliberately. His eyes, fixed on Jay, were wide, dry, and pitiless. They reflected no triumph, only the profound exhaustion of his soul.

"Then my duty is being fulfilled. There is nothing more to discuss."

"There is," Jay insisted, taking a tentative step forward. "I came to... to thank you. And to apologize."

The word 'apologize' hung in the small, sterile room, a fragile, foreign sound. Sunghoon’s composure finally fractured, not with a breakdown, but with a flicker of raw, disbelieving anger in his dry eyes.

"Apologize?" Sunghoon echoed, the single word sharp with contempt. "Your Majesty mistakes me for your Consort. Jungwon requires apologies; the Empress requires consequences. You risked the throne, you risked the heir, and you risked the stability of the entire realm for your sentiment. I merely extracted the necessary consequence to correct your error."

Jay felt the sting of the rebuke, but it hardened his own resolve. He took two quick steps, closing the distance between them, his voice now lower, fueled by a defensive passion.

"You speak of error, Sunghoon, but I did what was necessary to protect my son's future! When I signed that decree, I was not thinking of sentiment—I was thinking of the Crown. My duty was to ensure Jungwon's child, who has no background or power, would sit on that throne, free from the challenge of your House. You know the political fragility of your Northern Alliance. Had I waited, had I not secured the succession through law, your entire House would have stood ready to challenge my line once the child was born!"

Jay gestured wildly, frustration boiling over. "The only reason I wavered, the only reason I locked the decree away, was because your political logic, as cold as it is, was superior. You claimed the Crown Duke title, you demanded power, and I gave it to you! I did it to guarantee the child I love would live securely! Everything I did was to build an unassailable shield around that son."

He then delivered the painful accusation, his voice raw with despair and fury:

“What about my child then? Must the Empress's son watch the Consort's son ascend the throne in shame? Did you ever spare a thought for my son? And what about the whole world mocking us, father and son?"

The words struck Jay with the force of a physical blow. The shame of their lie, the knowledge of the long-term emotional damage to the stolen child, was something he had deliberately pushed away.

"Sunghoon, listen to me—" Jay started, his voice cracking.

“No. You listen!” Sunghoon commanded, his eyes blazing with a brief, fierce passion that instantly receded back into cold exhaustion

“Then, Consort Jungwon’s son died. And mine lived. That is when your political logic failed entirely," Sunghoon continued, his eyes drilling into the King’s. "You suddenly found yourself with a living heir—my son—the child of the Northern Alliance, a child you had just attempted to legally invalidate. Your 'shield' around the throne became a self-inflicted wound, a sword aimed at your own dynasty."

Sunghoon stopped directly before the King, his posture radiating absolute authority despite his sequestered state. "So you committed the ultimate act of cruelty: you stole the living heir to substitute him for the one your Consort lost. You did not do it to 'protect' the Crown. You did it to protect Jungwon's peace of mind and to hide the humiliating failure of your decree. Did you ever consider my feelings?"

Sunghoon’s voice dropped to a desolate murmur, yet it was more cutting than any shout. He stared directly into Jay’s eyes, his own dry and reflecting the bare bulb in the ceiling like tiny, hard stones.

“As a vulnerable mother who just gave birth, don't you know how heartbreaking it is to be separated from his newborn child?"

The question was a spear thrust into Jay's conscience. He knew. Every alpha was instinctively aware of the fragile, intense bond between a newborn omega mother and their child. It was a primal connection he had violated, an agony he had inflicted purely for convenience.

"My son is a hostage just for your happiness. You are doing whatever you want simply because I lack power”
Sunghoon’s mask of stillness finally, completely fractured. The raw, desperate sorrow in his dry eyes broke, and a single tear traced a clear, burning path down his cheek.

His voice, when it came again, was a heartbroken whisper, utterly devoid of the cold intellect he had used moments before, exposing the depth of his pain as a

"Perhaps it is for the best that my son has gone to you... Otherwise, I don't know how my son could have survived in this grand palace as the child of a powerless Empress like me."

The admission was a surrender born of utter despair, painting his own political downfall not just as a tragedy, but as a potential curse upon his child. Sunghoon's control finally snapped. He didn't sob, but the tears began to fall silently, endlessly, a torrent of grief he had held captive since the birth.

Jay, who had endured Sunghoon's furious contempt with a hardened jaw, found himself completely broken by this pathetic, weary surrender. The accusation of being a ruthless politician was bearable; the sight of Sunghoon weeping over the terrible fate of his son, concluding that his theft might have been a miserable mercy, was not.

"Sunghoon..." Jay breathed, his face contorting with guilt and anguish. He was speechless, the torrent of rationalizations and defenses he had rehearsed dissolving instantly. There was no argument left, only the truth of the man standing before him, stripped of title and power, weeping for his stolen child.

Driven by an instinct far older and deeper than kingly duty, Jay moved. He covered the remaining distance in two swift strides and pulled the Empress into his arms.

Chapter Text

He held Sunghoon tightly, fiercely, burying his face in the crown of the omega’s unbound hair, the familiar, clean scent hitting him with the force of a memory. Sunghoon’s body, rigid with shock and sorrow, did not resist but simply sagged into the embrace. Jay felt the tremors of silent weeping wrack Sunghoon's frame, the tears soaking the fine fabric of the King’s shoulder.

Jay couldn't offer words, because every possible word was a lie. He didn't apologize again; the word was too cheap. He was trapped in the center of his own cruelty, and for the first time, he allowed himself to feel the full, crushing weight of the lump of grief and guilt.

Sunghoon finally found the strength to push back, gently disentangling himself from Jay’s embrace. He looked utterly drained, the tears having washed away the last vestiges of his formidable political spirit, leaving behind only the heartbroken parent. He swiped a weary hand across his face, drying the tears.

His posture regained a shadow of its former straightness, a necessary defense against total collapse.
Sunghoon said, his voice flat and detached.

“It is my son who is suffering the consequences of everything.”

He nodded toward the corner of the room where the silver warming tray was discreetly placed, holding the tools of his subjugation. "I have no more strength to debate the terms of my own misery. I believe the Consort is waiting for you. You should not keep the true mother of the Prince waiting."

The cold irony of the final title was the last, stinging rebuke. Jay stood defeated. He simply nodded once—a King accepting his sentence—and walked stiffly to the door.

The guard pulled the door open, allowed the King to exit, and then closed it with the soft, sealing thud. Sunghoon stood motionless by the window once more, staring out at the starless night.

••••

The air in the main palace wing was a tangible shift—from the cold sterility of the sequestered chamber to the warm, gentle scent of fresh flowers and the soft, sweet omega pheromone that belonged to his Consort. King Jay found Jungwon sitting on a plush chaise lounge, illuminated by the soft light of a nearby lamp, cradling the baby—Sunghoon’s son, their Prince—who was sleeping soundly.

"Jay. You’re back," Jungwon whispered, his face alight with a serene, beautiful smile. "He just finished his feeding. He’s the most peaceful sleeper."

Jay crossed the room and knelt beside the chaise, his hand resting gently on Jungwon’s knee. His eyes went straight to the baby's tiny, perfect face, the sight easing the knots Sunghoon had tied in his gut.

"He's gaining weight, isn't he? He looks stronger every day," Jay said, his voice subdued.

"He is. He has such an appetite," Jungwon replied, stroking the baby’s back. He glanced at Jay, noticing the unnatural stiffness in his King's shoulders and the deep shadow around his eyes.

"You look troubled, Jay," Jungwon murmured, his smile fading slightly. "Is it the northern border? Or... did the Empress cause difficulty?"

"No, my love. Nothing. The Empress is complying perfectly. It is merely the stress of governance," Jay lied, tightening his grip on Jungwon's knee. "There will be no issues. We will simply cherish our son, and everything will be well."

He leaned forward and kissed Jungwon's temple, a desperate vow to uphold the lie passing between them, even as the cold memory of Sunghoon’s tears burned on his shoulder.

••••

The next morning, the sequestered chamber was bathed in the cool, pale light of dawn. Empress Sunghoon was no longer by the window, but sat rigidly on the edge of his cot, dressed in the same plain robes. His eyes were shadowed and heavily swollen, a stark testament to the King’s visit and his subsequent breakdown.

The heavy door opened, and the guard admitted only one person: Dr. Lio, the small, elderly beta physician tasked with ensuring the Empress's health—and, more importantly, the consistency of the Prince's milk supply. Lio carried a small leather satchel and avoided Sunghoon's gaze with professional precision.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," Lio murmured, setting his satchel down near the warming tray. His voice was hushed, trained to the atmosphere of confinement. "I'm here for the morning check. Has your body been... cooperative?"

Sunghoon’s lip curled, a flicker of his old, sharp wit momentarily piercing his exhaustion. "Cooperative? You mean, has the King's milk cow produced the required yield? Yes, Doctor. I am functioning according to the decree."

Lio flinched slightly but ignored the bitter description. He reached for the log book and the mechanical pump. "The Prince is gaining weight beautifully, Empress. Your nourishment is exceptional. We simply need to ensure your health does not suffer the strain."

Lio handed Sunghoon the equipment. "The guard will be back in twenty minutes to collect the required amount. For the Prince."

Sunghoon took the cool metal pump in his hands. He felt the weight of Lio’s words—the grim advice that his only remaining power was his ability to lactate for the man who stole his son. The tears had stopped, replaced by the hardening resolve Lio had spoken of.

"Yes, Lio" Sunghoon replied, his voice flat, his gaze fixed on the blank wall. "For the Prince."

The small silver warming tray sat on the worn wooden table, the focal point of the chamber. On it rested the mechanical breast pump and a sterile glass bottle, tools of an agonizing duty.

Dr. Lio, finished with his silent preparations, nodded curtly. "The volume must be consistent, Your Majesty. For the Prince's strength." He cast a quick, empathetic glance at the Empress before turning to inspect the chamber's solitary ventilation grille, a pretense of duty to give Sunghoon privacy.

Sunghoon, left alone with the sterile machinery, felt his stomach clench. His body, the source of his son's life, was now a tool for his own torture. He moved with the slow, heavy grace of one performing a religious rite—a sacrifice.

He pulled aside the plain cotton of his robe, exposing his chest. The initial contact of the cold, hard plastic of the pump against his skin was a sharp jolt, but the worst pain was psychological. Each minute spent using the machine was a stark, brutal reminder of the stolen life it was supporting.

He began the mechanical action. A low, painful tugging sensation started. Sunghoon's eyes squeezed shut, but not from the physical discomfort alone; it was the wrenching emptiness in his arms that truly hurt. The milk, which should have been flowing naturally, easily, and lovingly into his son's mouth, was instead being violently extracted by a machine, destined for the Consort's arms.

A tear slipped from beneath his eyelid and traced a path down his temple into his hair.

He focused on the small, glass bottle filling drop by precious drop, each millimeter a symbol of his powerlessness. The process was agonizingly slow. His body ached from the emotional stress and the physical strain of the birth, but he pushed on, driven by Dr. Lio's grim advice: While you provide it, you are essential.

He leaned forward, watching the white fluid collect. He tried to think of anything but the tiny, perfect infant face he had held only briefly, but the memory was too strong. He could smell the faint, sweet scent of his son that had clung to his sheets.

Finally, the required line on the bottle was reached. Sunghoon pulled the pump away, the release leaving his body throbbing. He sat for a moment, breathing heavily, the sweat on his brow mixing with his tears. The bottle, full of the liquid life he was forbidden to give, was a solid measure of his maternal heartbreak.

Chapter Text

King Jay was in the Royal Physician’s Study, trying to extract reassurance from Dr. Lio. He stood by the window, his voice low with barely concealed anxiety.

“...But he’s not breaking?” Jay pressed, his eyes fixed on the distant walls of the sequestered wing. "I need assurance that his constitution will hold."

Dr. Lio, small and highly nervous, adjusted his spectacles. He maintained a professional, neutral tone. “Your Majesty, the Empress’s physical recovery is progressing as expected. The emotional strain is significant, of course, but he remains fully compliant with the royal decree. His focus is on the welfare of the Prince.”

Just as Jay released a quiet, guilt-ridden breath of relief, the heavy oak door of the study began to open.

General Heeseung strode in, tall and imposing in the dark blue and silver of his military uniform. Heeseung, having approached silently, caught the physician's final, heavily coded words.The air of the room instantly changed, thick with the scent of pine and discipline—an Alpha pheromone far cooler and more contained than Jay's. He was back because the whispers of Sunghoon's political ruin had reached the border, validating a far more intimate dread. Heeseung knew intimately that Jay’s fierce devotion to the Consort, Jungwon, was strong enough to silence the Empress and risk cruelty.

Heeseung stopped dead just inside the doorway. His sharp, dark eyes fixed first on Dr. Lio's agitated face, then shifted with dangerous precision to Jay. He skipped all pretense of a proper greeting.

“I need to know: Did the Empress give birth?” Heeseung demanded, his voice low and utterly devoid of courtly politeness, cutting through the strained atmosphere.

Jay felt the cold shock of the blunt truth. "Heeseung. You're back early. Yes, General. A Prince was born last week. A strong, healthy boy."

Heeseung nodded once, sharply, his eyes burning into the King.

Heeseung nodded once, sharply. His gaze immediately shifted to Dr. Lio. "Then I trust you are attending to the Empress's immediate recovery. And the Prince?"

Lio bowed low, terrified, clinging to his protocol. “General Heeseung, the Prince is thriving under the care of the Consort, Jungwon. The Empress is currently sequestered for reasons of state security. He is providing the necessary nourishment for the Prince, as decreed by the King. He is physically stable.”

Heeseung's eyes snapped back to Jay. The General had always been a man of action and justice, not court whispers. He didn't need to hear a rumor to know the political implications of an Omega Empress giving birth to an heir and then being "sequestered."

“Sequestered?” Heeseung's voice was low, dangerous. “After a birth? Under whose medical order? And why is the Empress not nursing his own son?”

Jay met his gaze, his authority hardening against the challenge. "The decision was mine, Heeseung. The Empress is... indisposed for now. The health and stability of the Crown requires the Consort, Jungwon, to be the public mother of the heir. It is for the political security of the realm."

Heeseung closed his eyes briefly. He understood the profound injustice. He had sacrificed his quiet devotion to Sunghoon for Jay's Crown, believing Jay would never allow the political to destroy the personal entirely, and this was the result of his sacrifice. Jay, driven by his love for Jungwon, had done exactly that.

Heeseung opened his eyes, the warmth replaced by granite. He addressed Jay directly, his tone cold and official. “The separation of a birth parent from the heir for political convenience is a dangerous precedent, Jay. I will be taking my seat on the Council tomorrow. I will require a full briefing on the specifics of this ‘state security’ that necessitates the Empress’s confinement and compliance.”

He gave Jay a stiff, military nod—a formality stripped of any affection—and strode out. The door closed with the echoing judgment of the Kingdom's most powerful General, leaving Jay alone with the sudden escalation of his internal crisis.

Jay turned to Lio, his face dark. "You will report only to me, Lio. Is that understood? Heeseung is a threat to the current order. You will speak of the Empress only in terms of his medical stability."

Lio swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the ground. "As you command, Your Majesty. I only follow the royal decree."

Jay stood motionless until the final echo of Heeseung's footsteps faded. The silence that returned to the physician's study wasn't peaceful; it was a vacuum left by the General's judgment. Heeseung hadn't simply left; he'd issued a quiet, cold declaration of war against the King's current moral order.

Jay slowly turned to Dr. Lio, who was standing rigid, his eyes fixed on the floorboards. The King's composure was gone, replaced by a desperate, cold anger. He walked closer to the physician, his voice tight and low.

“Lio, you will tell Heeseung nothing. I am the Crown.
He will respect my decree, or he will face the consequences."

Jay dismissed the trembling doctor, but as he left the study, the King knew the rules of the game had changed. He hadn't just confined an Empress; he had awakened the General. And Heeseung's sense of duty was now focused entirely on the truth Jay was desperately trying to bury.

Chapter Text

Heeseung ignored all protocol. He strode directly to the sequestered wing, his pace a drumbeat of defiance. The guards, recognizing his rank and his aura of cold, focused command—far more imposing than the King’s current panic—stepped aside without a challenge.

He found Sunghoon's chamber in a quiet corner. The room was luxurious, yet felt like a cage—sun-drenched, but silent and empty of life, save for the Empress himself.

Sunghoon was seated by the window, staring blankly at the empty cradle that had been placed there earlier. He was pale and fragile, his robes hanging loosely on his frame, clearly exhausted by the birth and the subsequent forced separation from his son. When the heavy door finally opened, Sunghoon didn't look up, too weary to care who had intruded.

But then, the air shifted. The sudden, overwhelming scent of pine and discipline—Heeseung’s powerful, contained Alpha pheromone—broke through the stagnant, clinical odor of the room.

Sunghoon's head snapped up. His eyes, usually brilliant, were red-rimmed and dull, but a pure, unadulterated joy instantly ignited in them. It wasn't relief that a political ally had arrived; it was the simple, profound happiness of seeing a long-lost friend.

"Heeseung!" Sunghoon whispered, the sound a ragged breath that was suddenly full of light. He pushed himself out of the chair, forgetting his weakness, and stumbled toward the General.

Heeseung didn't speak. He closed the door behind him and crossed the room in three long strides, his armor softly clinking, and met Sunghoon halfway. He didn't ask for permission, or offer a bow. He simply opened his arms, and Sunghoon collapsed into the familiar, solid embrace.

Heeseung pulled the Empress tightly against the dark blue fabric of his uniform, letting his own cold, grounding scent surround the other man like a shield. Sunghoon buried his face against the General's shoulder, not in pain, but in deep, profound security, clutching the fabric of the uniform with the desperate strength of someone finally anchored after a long storm.

“You’re here,” Sunghoon murmured into his collar, the words muffled but thick with happy tears. “I thought you would never come back.”

Heeseung tightened his hold, a fierce, protective instinct overriding all military discipline. His voice was low and quiet, the tone he reserved only for Sunghoon. “I’m here now, Hoon. And I won’t leave again until this is set right.”

"What is the full extent of this 'state security' that King Jay claims?" Heeseung asked, his voice low and professional, shifting immediately to the threat at hand. "Tell me everything. The Prince—have you seen him?"

Sunghoon closed his eyes, leaning his forehead lightly against the General's shoulder for just a moment before pulling back completely.He shook his head slowly and pulled back from Heeseung’s hands, his entire posture one of defeat and resignation. His eyes were wide, not with fear for himself, but with a deep, crushing sorrow.

“It doesn’t matter, Heeseung,” Sunghoon whispered, the words empty of any fight. “The King’s decree stands. The Prince is healthy, and his future is secured under the Consort. I am recovered. That is the truth the kingdom needs to hear.”

Heeseung frowned, the cold resolution in his face momentarily replaced by confusion. "Hoon, don't talk nonsense. This is political ruin. I know what Jay is doing. You are being used and confined. We can fight this legally; I have the power in the Council to—”

“Stop! Don’t you dare,” Sunghoon cut in, his weak voice suddenly fierce with fear. He reached out and grabbed the General's sleeve, his grip surprisingly strong. “I forbid you. You will do nothing.”

He met Heeseung’s eyes, revealing the painful, secret truth. “I am the Empress. Jay is my King. Whatever pain this decision causes, it is for the stability of his Crown, and I accept it. You saw him, Heeseung—he is under immense pressure.”

Heeseung looked down at the trembling Empress, seeing the heartbreaking truth in his former lover's eyes. Sunghoon wasn't broken by his King's cruelty;
he was broken by his own loyalty and love.

Heeseung released a slow, cold breath. He had returned to save the Empress, but he was being asked to stand down by the very person he came to protect.

“You accept this confinement? You accept being separated from your own son?” Heeseung asked, his voice a low, hard demand.

“That is enough, if the Prince is safe.”

Heeseung stared at him for a long, silent moment. The battle was lost here, in this room, before it even began. He had to concede.

Heeseung's hands finally dropped from Sunghoon's shoulders. Yet, his large frame remained a solid, unmoving silhouette against the pale light of the sequestered room. Though his expression held the cold resolve of a man forced to accept a grievous command, his eyes betrayed a profound, tender agony.

"As you command, Your Majesty," Heeseung stated, his voice tight and formal, acknowledging the Empress and the King's decree.

He took a slow step back, but then turned to face Sunghoon one last time. Heeseung lifted a hand, not in a salute, but to gently graze the delicate skin behind Sunghoon’s ear, the place where their Alpha and Omega scents—and their former devotion—once mingled freely. His action was a silent, defiant farewell to the laws of the court.

Heeseung then spoke, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, weaving a solemn and poetic promise that transcended the stone walls and the political danger:

“I shall obey the bounds you set. I will not break the peace you seek to maintain. But know this, Hoon. You will not be alone.”

He paused, his gaze burning with conviction—a true Alpha challenging a false decree.

“I will remain within this fortress. My promise is an anchor, set deep in the stone of this castle. And beyond the vow of my presence, I make another: Everything you are owed—your honor, your title, and your son’s undisputed place—I shall retrieve it. Stone by precious stone, I will restore what is rightfully yours. I will always be here for that purpose.”

He gave Sunghoon a final, intense look—a silent vow that transcended politics and law—then turned and strode out. The closing of the heavy door was not a farewell, but the firm echo of an eternal promise, leaving Sunghoon within the palace walls, but no longer without a champion for his destiny.

Sunghoon felt an overwhelming, dizzying rush of conflicting emotions.

Chapter Text

The main palace wing hummed with the soft, constant warmth that King Jay had decreed. It was an atmosphere engineered for perfect peace, yet Jungwon sat on the chaise, the contentment in his smile barely covering a layer of persistent, fragile tension.

The crown prince was now asleep in his cradle—a beautifully carved piece of dark oak that smelled faintly of polished beeswax. Jungwon had just settled him down, his movements careful and tender. He stepped back and watched the rise and fall of the baby’s chest, a profound sense of possessive relief washing over him. The baby was real, he was present, and he was safe.

But safety was a new and treacherous ground for Jungwon.

He walked to the window, the soft velvet of his robe whispering against the floor, and looked out at the familiar, magnificent view of the Royal Gardens. He closed his eyes, pressing his palms flat against the cool glass, trying to silence the memories.

A small, high-pitched wail broke the silence not from the cradle, but from the depths of his mind.

Jungwon remembered the other nursery—the one that had been prepared with such exquisite, hopeful joy only a few months ago. It hadn't been this grand. It was cozier, smelling of soft new linen, a secret space tucked away for the child of the King's true love, the one he thought he had lost.

The moment of loss was a haze of white linen and the horrifying, absolute absence of scent. Jungwon had tried to hold the tiny, still body, but the midwives had gently taken him away, citing infection, or perhaps just mercy.

He had been promised a vibrant, loud life, and instead, he got a silence that had stretched out for days, weeks, an endless, deafening silence in the room where his own baby should had been. He could still recall the phantom ache in his chest and the scent of his own dried-up milk—the tragic, physical sign of the life he had lost and the function that had failed.

He turned from the window and looked at the current Prince. This child was strong, his scent soft and clean, and he nursed greedily. He was, in every way, perfect.

Jungwon traced the lines of the cradle with his finger, his expression hardening slightly. This child was proof that he was a worthy Consort, that his line was secure, that he was the beloved mother of the heir. He needed this baby not merely as a symbol of his power, but as a living antidote to the poison of his grief. The emptiness in his arms was a wound that only the weight and warmth of this new life could heal. He would not, could not, go back to the terrible, aching silence.

He did not allow himself to ask how the sudden, vigorous health of a premature baby from the sequestered wing had been explained. He did not allow himself to wonder why the Empress Sunghoon had been instantly and ruthlessly confined.

He refused to ask.

His love for the child, while genuine and fierce, was also inextricably linked to his survival in the court. This child was his shield against the shame of his previous loss, his guarantee against political instability, and the living symbol of the love that had saved him from despair.

He walked back to the chaise and sat, pulling a soft shawl around his shoulders. He felt the cold memory of that brief, terrifying silence of his own son's death—a coldness that could still, even now, shatter the warmth of this grand room.

"You will never leave me," Jungwon whispered, his eyes fixed on the baby. "You will thrive, and you will grow strong."

It wasn't a promise to the child; it was a desperate, fierce vow to himself, a desperate prayer that the current, perfect reality would never again be invaded by the ghost of the nursery he'd lost. He reached out and gently stroked the Prince's soft, full cheek, cementing the lie with every fiber of his being.

The Consort's peace, he knew, rested on the absolute, unshakeable stability of his lie. And he would guard it with a love as fierce and unquestioning as a lioness.

A frantic scratching sound at the outer door to the Consort’s private apartments startled Jungwon out of his reverie. It was followed by a desperate, hushed whimpering.

“Enter,” Jungwon called, his voice tight, smoothing the silk of his robe as he tried to regain his serene composure.

Lady Minji, his chief maid, stumbled into the room, her cheeks flushed scarlet and her breath coming in ragged, silent gasps. She didn’t even manage a proper bow, instead pressing her hands over her heart, her eyes wide with terror.

“Your Majesty, forgive me. I… I saw him,” she choked out, her gaze flicking nervously toward the sleeping Prince in the cradle.

“Saw who, Minji? Calm yourself,” Jungwon demanded, though a knot of ice had formed in his own stomach. Minji only lost control when the King or the throne was in danger.

“General Heeseung! He’s back. He returned to the palace today, and he is already causing trouble. I just saw him leave the physician's study, and before that… before that, the stable boys were whispering he went directly to the Empress’s wing.”

The words struck Jungwon like a physical blow. Heeseung. The General who was notoriously loyal to the Northern House and, more specifically, to Sunghoon. Heeseung, who had always viewed Jungwon with thinly veiled suspicion.

Jungwon’s face drained of color, but he forced his posture into rigid stillness. “The General is attending to his duties. The Empress is confined by the King’s decree for state security. There is no trouble.”

“But, Your Majesty, his presence… he is questioning things,” Minji insisted, her voice dropping to a panicked murmur. “He is a man of honor. He wouldn’t dare oppose the King, but he is fiercely devoted to the Empress. He looked… dangerous. Not in anger, but in purpose. The guards are terrified.”

Jungwon felt the precarious foundation of his peace begin to crumble. Heeseung knew more than anyone the history between the King and the Empress. He would notice the sudden change in the heir, the perfect health, the timing. Heeseung would understand the exchange that had taken place.

Heeseung will see the lie.

The thought was a searing terror. Heeseung wouldn't just challenge the decree; he would challenge the very identity of the child in the cradle. Jungwon’s breath hitched, and he took an involuntary step toward the sleeping Prince, his hands outstretched, possessive and desperate.

If Heeseung exposed the truth, it wouldn’t just mean political ruin for the King; it would mean the loss of his child, the loss of the only solace he had found after his own tragedy. The cold silence of the first nursery would return, and this time, there would be no second miracle.

Jungwon looked at Minji, his eyes blazing with a sudden, fierce resolve. “You will tell no one of this visit. Not even the King. You will keep your eyes and ears open, but you will speak nothing of the Empress or the General. Do you understand? My peace, the Prince's safety, and the King's life depend on absolute, unyielding silence.”

He dismissed the trembling maid with a sharp gesture. Jungwon walked back to the cradle, bending low over the small, warm body. Heeseung’s return was not just a threat to the Crown—it was a direct assault on Jungwon’s own stolen motherhood.

He gently touched the baby’s blanket. “He will not take you,” Jungwon whispered to the child, his voice shaking with a love that was now mixed with cold, calculated fear. “No one will return you to that silence.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, the grand audience chamber was hushed, lit by tall windows that cast long, golden strips of light across the polished marble floor. King Jay sat at his heavy oak desk, reviewing dispatches, his expression one of serious, but calm, focus. General Heeseung stood before him, clad in the polished silver and dark blue of the Northern Command, his imposing presence a statement of martial strength. They were discussing the state of the Northern border.

“...The skirmishes are contained, Your Majesty. We simply need to reinforce the winter garrison. I will have the final figures on your desk by sunset,” Heeseung concluded, his voice clear and measured.

“Excellent, General,” Jay replied, setting down his stylus. “Your return is timely. I trust your journey was not too taxing?”

“It was swift, Your Majesty. The North awaits your further command,” Heeseung said, his gaze briefly flicking to the door. Jay knew Heeseung had already attempted to visit the Empress, and the King’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at the General's stiff formality.

The door to the chamber opened, and the atmosphere shifted. Jungwon entered, a vision of composed, gentle grace in robes of soft emerald silk. In his arms, he carried Crown Prince Ni-ki, swaddled in pale yellow silk that looked luminous in the sunlight. Jungwon’s movement was fluid, practiced, conveying a perfect picture of maternal devotion.

He stopped just inside the doorway, his eyes immediately seeking the King. His opening words froze in his throat, dissolving into a tight, horrified gasp. General Heeseung. The sight of the man—unannounced, unbidden, and a living symbol of the Empress Sunghoon’s powerful faction—sent a jolt of ice through Jungwon. He hadn't been informed the General was present. The knot of fear from the previous night twisted violently in his gut, confirming his dread.

Jungwon’s entire body tensed, and his breath hitched. Heeseung, a man who had not been seen in the capital for years, was standing directly before the King. The General’s presence was an immediate, terrifying threat to the stability of Jungwon’s world.

He swallowed hard, fighting down the wave of nausea and terror, and quickly forced his composure back, walking forward with a determined calm that cost him immense effort. “My King, forgive the interruption,” Jungwon managed, his voice soft, but with a strained pitch. “The Prince woke early, and I thought he might offer you some cheer after the grim business of the borders.”

“Jungwon. Come here,” Jay said, his face immediately softening into a loving smile.

Heeseung turned, his posture rigid. His gaze was not a quick, respectful acknowledgment of the King's heir, but a direct, penetrating look the moment Jungwon entered. As Jungwon approached, the General’s eyes did not waver from the baby’s face, and the military man froze.

The Crown Prince was small, perfect, and possessed an undeniable ethereal quality. His features, while holding the King’s promise of strong adulthood, were dominated by a delicate, refined grace. The skin was exceptionally smooth and translucent, and the curve of his lips and the shape of his brow carried a fragile elegance that Heeseung knew intimately.

Heeseung saw Sunghoon in the child.

It wasn't just a resemblance, but an echoing of features so profound it felt like a ghost in the room. The baby’s soft, tender features were the mirror image of the Empress’s refined, almost icy beauty. The delicate shape of the lips, the high, clear cast of the cheekbones, the sheer delicacy of the child’s skin—it was the face of the Empress, tenderly miniaturized. Heeseung had known Sunghoon since they were children; he knew the Northern bloodline and its distinct features.

A flicker of raw, undisguised emotion crossed the General’s face—a complex mixture of shock, tenderness, and immediate, burning certainty. This was Sunghoon’s child. The strength, the perfect health, the timing—it all clicked into a terrifying clarity.

Jungwon, sensing the shift in the General's gaze—a gaze that no longer saw a Consort’s son, but a secret truth—held the Prince a little closer, his smile becoming brittle. Heeseung was not looking at the King’s son; he was looking at a stolen copy of the Empress.

Jungwon hurried past the General, moving straight to the King’s desk. He needed a shield. He positioned himself slightly between Heeseung and the cradle of his arms. “General Heeseung has only just returned from his long mission, my King,” Jungwon said, his voice light and dismissive, carefully avoiding making eye contact with the General. “He should not be burdened with the sight of a fussy baby when he has such important state matters on his mind.” This was not an invitation, but a direct, though veiled, refusal.

“He is beautiful, Your Majesty,” Heeseung said to King Jay, his voice now deep and dangerously steady, though his eyes remained locked on the child. The simple statement felt like a declaration of war to Jungwon.

Jay chuckled, unaware of the undercurrent. “He takes that from his mother’s side, General. But he is robust, as you can see.”

“With your Majesty’s permission,” Heeseung requested, his voice suddenly thick, a hint of desperation bleeding through his military discipline. “May I hold the Prince?”

Jungwon’s fingers tightened on the swaddling cloth. The thought of Heeseung, the Empress's most devoted ally, holding the evidence of the switch, of the lie, was unbearable. It was a clear challenge, a silent demand for the truth.

“He is just waking, General,” Jungwon said sweetly, his eyes holding a cold, silent warning that Heeseung met unflinchingly. “Perhaps another time, when he is settled.”

Jay, oblivious to the battle waged inches from him, stood up, placing a reassuring hand on Jungwon’s shoulder. He wanted Heeseung to see what Sunghoon had given him, to witness the perfection of the heir that belonged solely to the Crown and to Jay.

“Nonsense, Jungwon. Heeseung has been a loyal friend and pillar of the Crown for years. Let him hold the heir.”

With the King's direct order, Jungwon had no choice. He felt a wave of icy panic wash over him. His hands trembled as he gently relinquished the soft, warm bundle to the General, watching with absolute dread as the General of the North—the only man who could shatter his new life—took Sunghoon's son into his arms.

Heeseung received the infant, his large, calloused hands—hands that typically held a sword hilt or reins—moving with surprising, absolute tenderness. The moment the Crown Prince settled against his silver breastplate, the military man’s composure broke, not in visible tears, but in a profound internal shock.

Heeseung slowly inclined his head, his eyes never leaving the baby. He took a single, measured step closer. The desire was sudden and overwhelming, an immediate, protective instinct. He longed to hold the child, to confirm the truth with the weight of the Prince in his arms, to hold the son of the man who had been his dearest love and companion—the Empress Sunghoon.

The General stared down at the child’s ethereal features, his mind reeling. In that instant, the opulent, sunlit chamber dissolved into a space for his private thoughts. Heeseung had yearned for a life where they could raise a child—a child with Sunghoon's refined beauty, protected from the court's poison.

This child is that dream made real, stolen and placed in the King's cradle. The Prince's soft, tender features were an agonizing reminder of what King Jay's ambition had ruined. This is what King Jay's ambition has wrought, the ultimate ruin of Sunghoon's life to secure the throne. The King had taken Sunghoon, forced him to bear an heir in secret, and then confined him to uphold a political lie. Now, this infant, a precious miniature of his lost love, was proof of the King's ultimate betrayal and Sunghoon's silent suffering. The General's grip subtly tightened, the resolve hardening in his heart.

The baby stirred, a tiny, instinctive movement, and a small, delicate hand pushed free of the swaddling. It gripped the silver chain around Heeseung’s neck—a chain Sunghoon had gifted him years ago. This small, accidental contact felt like a secret bond, sealing the truth between them.

“He is perfectly formed,” Heeseung said.

Jay smiled.

“A healthy prince, thanks to Jungwon’s care.”

Heeseung looked up, his gaze sweeping over Jungwon—a look of cold, penetrating assessment. He had his proof. He had the truth settled and warm in his arms. The General said nothing more, only holding the child for a moment longer than necessary, committing every tiny detail to memory before, with a final, lingering touch, he returned Ni-ki to Jungwon.

Jungwon took the Prince back, clutching him tightly, feeling as though the General had just marked the baby—and the lie—for a future reckoning.