The nursemaid tending the baby noticed Cassion and quietly slipped out of the room.

Cassion walked toward the cradle with steps as light as he could manage, afraid to wake the child. But all his care proved pointless—the baby was already awake, her eyes wide open and glimmering.

“Nia.”

He couldn’t help but laugh softly.

True to the nickname given by the castle servants—the gentle lady’s child—Nia lay there without fuss, gazing up at him with bright blue eyes so like Irynsis’s.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

He brushed a fingertip across her soft cheek. Fine hair and downy fuzz slipped beneath his hand like silk. At his touch, the baby broke into a fleeting smile.

For a moment, Cassion forgot how to breathe. He simply stared at the pure, innocent face.

“Nia, your father’s been scolded.”

The anxieties that had been strangling him seemed to dissolve, softened by this little life. Before her harmless gaze, there was no room for fear.

“Of course you’d be beautiful. As beautiful as your mother.”

Already he thought her precious beyond measure. If joy could double, why would he ever shy from it? In any other circumstance, there would have been a celebration by now.

“But your mother… she matters more to me.”

He could never ask his wife to risk her life again for the sake of another child. If it were possible, he would rather lay down his own life instead.

“Daah, ahh!”

Whether in agreement or in protest, the baby made a sound that seemed almost like a reply.

Noticing her swaddling had loosened, Cassion deftly retied the cloth, then lifted her into his arms.

Settling into a cushioned chair by the window, he held her close. The baby’s eyes sparkled like stars, while her little body smelled faintly of milk—an innocent fragrance that eased him in ways nothing else could.

Her eyelids fluttered open and shut in rhythm with his gentle patting, and he himself was beginning to drift into a dreamlike calm—

Creak.

The door opened.

Cassion’s eyes snapped open, his arms tightening protectively around his daughter out of pure instinct.

“Tch. Really.”

The voice was full of disapproval. At the sight of Irynsis in the doorway, his strength drained away at once. In front of his wife, he was always defenseless.

“She’s my daughter.”

Even as his body slackened, his lips jutted in a sulky pout as he muttered toward her.

“Yes, your daughter. Did I say otherwise?”

People loved to say Nia had taken after Irynsis, calling her the gentle lady reborn. But Irynsis knew better.

The baby was her father’s mirror.

She might share her mother’s features, but her gestures, her quirks—those belonged wholly to Cassion. Even at such a tender age, it was clear.

Like now—opening her eyes the instant she sensed her mother’s presence, just as Cassion would always turn toward her no matter where he stood.

“Even if I’m barred from the bedchamber, you can’t keep me from my daughter.”

Cassion hugged Nia closer, holding her up almost like a shield. Irynsis snorted. 

“And you can’t keep her from me.”

She strode forward, standing tall before him.

“Daah! Daah!”

Before Irynsis even stretched out her arms, Nia wriggled eagerly, her eyes pleading for her mother.

“How can you betray your father like this?”

Cassion gave her a wounded glare, but Nia was already cradled against Irynsis’s chest, beaming in bliss.

Watching them, Cassion’s jealousy boiled over.

“I’m banned from our room, but you’ll let her in your arms?”

The ridiculous complaint only made Irynsis click her tongue.

“You earned it.”

Her voice sharpened as she stroked Nia’s soft cheek with love, but her words struck at Cassion.

“She’s your child too, and yet all you could say was not to have her.”

Her glance fell briefly toward her still-flat belly, as if pointing straight to his crime. Cassion had no defense. Even with a hundred tongues, he could not have answered.

“Look at her.” 

Irynsis said, almost smug, as if showing off a masterpiece she had crafted. 

“Tell me she isn’t so beautiful you can’t believe she came from us.”

“I have a share in this too. Maybe not over you, but still—I do have a part.”

“Who said you didn’t? She’s your daughter too.”

Irynsis rocked the baby gently in her arms, soothing her as Nia began to drift to sleep.

“Of course, whether I remain your wife or not depends entirely on you.”

The words came with a face soft as spring sunlight, yet the menace behind them could have frozen blood. Cassion shot to his feet, bristling.

“What kind of nonsense is that supposed to mean?”

“And saying we shouldn’t have the child that already exists—that makes sense to you?”

“That’s…”

Irynsis laid the baby carefully in her cradle. Watching Nia sleep like an angel, Cassion lost himself for a moment, his gaze unguarded. Irynsis caught it, and a quiet laugh slipped from her lips.

“Another one just as beautiful will be born. Aren’t you curious?”

She spoke to him as if coaxing a sulky child. Cassion was exasperated, but he didn’t waste the chance to lean on her affection.

“Haa… Irynsis.”

He shifted as though moving toward Nia, but instead slipped his arms around Irynsis’s waist, burying his face against her. His hand traced up her side until it rested firmly over her stomach.

“Apologize.”

“It’s not because I don’t want the baby.”

Irynsis clicked her tongue. That much she already knew. The way he treated Nia showed exactly how he would treat this child once born.

“No, apologize to me.”

“Huh?”

“You judged me. You decided for yourself what I could or couldn’t do, and you were afraid.”

It was obvious.

She too had heard Scarlet’s warning that another pregnancy would be dangerous. But never had Scarlet said it was impossible. In fact, the moment she confirmed Irynsis was expecting, she vowed to do everything in her power to ensure safety.

Yet the father—the one who should have stood strongest—had cowered in fear instead. She could have smacked him for it.

“I was ready to give it everything I had.”

“…”

“And instead of standing beside me, you told me not to give birth?”

“…”

“You—the father?”

“…I’m sorry.”

At last the words tumbled out of Cassion’s mouth. When Irynsis demanded an apology, he had no choice but to give it. If she had wanted him to invent wrongs just to bow his head for them, he would have.

“I’ll do better.”

“You’d better. If you still want me as your wife after this child is born.”

“Irynsis, there will never be a day you’re not my wife.”

Even while begging forgiveness, he argued back on this point with fierce conviction. She rolled her eyes at his stubbornness, but his will did not waver. This was the one thing he would never yield.

“This time, you’ll be there when I give birth, won’t you?”

Her question came lightly, but Cassion froze like ice. He knew exactly what she meant.

Irynsis had delivered Nia alone, on a battlefield, in the middle of a snowstorm surrounded by enemies. Her pathetic husband had not been there.

Could there be a man more disgraceful? For their first child, he hadn’t been by her side. For their second, his first words had been to tell her not to have it at all.

“I’m truly sorry.”

His apology carried a weight deeper than before. He pulled her tighter against him, anguish lacing his grip.

Irynsis, sensing his heart, only smiled faintly and patted his arm.

“This time, I’ll make sure you’re beside me.”

“…Good.”

“But this really is the last.”

“…What?”

Her head tilted at his murmur. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, biting his lip as he muttered low.

“If I let you bear another child after this, then I’m nothing but a bastard.”

His grim vow made Irynsis burst into laughter. The sound was so sweet and bright that his own lips curved despite himself.

In the end, Cassion’s resolve failed from the very beginning.

Ten months later, twin boys were born. And Cassion officially admitted—to the delight of everyone—that he truly was the bastard he’d declared himself to be.