“Father! Mother!” 

The princess, panting heavily, pounded on the door with her tiny fists, which quickly turned red like little stones. Raoul reached out and gently took her arm, turning her to face him. She looked up at him, her chest heaving with every breath. 

“His Majesty will be with you shortly, Princess. Please wait a little longer.”

The princess stared at him, her violet eyes glowing with a fierce energy that made her look almost defiant. Unsure of what to do, Raoul led her to Lady Ritsol. Wasn’t she the best person for the job? She had experience with children of this age and had cared for them for years. 

“Count.”

Lady Ritsol said quietly. 

“I will inform His Majesty.”

“Yes.”

Lady Ritsol patted Una gently on the shoulder, trying to coax her away from the door. Had it been any other noble child, she would have simply picked her up, let her cry or not, and tried to soothe her as she sat on the bed. But this child was a princess. Even as a governess, dealing with a crying and demanding princess was no small pressure. 

Especially now, when the Princess was in a heightened emotional state. It wasn’t surprising, given the circumstances. Even if he was her father, it was said that she had been kidnapped from a nearby field and placed in a carriage. While the journey to the summer palace had been uneventful, there was no telling what might happen from here. 

Raoul bowed slightly to Lady Ritsol before opening the door. As she carefully embraced the princess, Lady Ritsol gave him a quick look, urging him to hurry. 

The door was half open. Suddenly, the princess pushed away from Lady Ritsol and ran out. 

“Princess!” 

“Mirabella.”

Leaving the screaming woman behind, Una shot down the corridor like an arrow. Her fingertips prickled as she ran. She had made up her mind to escape, no matter where. Then she heard someone calling.

“Mirabella.”

Una didn’t stop and sprinted down the open corridor. But she didn’t get far before she was suddenly lifted off the ground, her feet dangling in the air.

“No running in the corridors.”

A man whispered softly as he scooped her up, effortlessly holding her waist and gently supporting her bottom. Una looked at the man. His blue eyes shimmered like the light of dawn, his thick eyebrows casting a shadow over them. His black hair, slicked back neatly, fell slightly, framing his face as he smiled warmly at her.

The man, now wearing a black bliaut instead of armour, had red handprints on the skin near his neck and collarbone. As Una began to whimper and press against his chest, he raised a small hand to his lips and kissed them gently.

“Your Majesty!”

The woman who had been rushing towards them stopped and lifted the hem of her dress slightly as she curtsied. The knight also bowed his head in respect. Una blinked, her heart pounding like a drum. It felt as if her vision was slightly blurred.

“Mother…”

Una whispered, her voice barely audible, like a sigh.

“Princess…”

The woman said, looking up at Una with a startled expression on her face.

The man stroked Una’s back gently and planted a kiss on her plump cheek.

“She must miss her mother.”

“Yes, that seems to be the case.”

The woman replied with a nod.

The woman nodded, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Una turned her head back to look at the man. She squirmed and whimpered, her little feet kicking slightly. The man began to calm her gently, tucking the dishevelled strands of hair – which had completely slipped off her headband and fallen across her face – behind her ears. He patted her shoulder gently, his movements soft and patient.

“Do you miss your mother, Mirabella?”

Una’s eyes crinkled as if on the verge of tears, and her restless movements stopped for a moment as she looked up at him. His voice was always soft, his tone as if he really knew her, gently coaxing her. Yet he was a stranger to Una – someone she had never seen before. These kind gestures couldn’t possibly be meant for her, not really. After all, she wasn’t Mirabella.

That name… it was a name she had heard for the first time.

“Father…”

Una murmured softly.

She paused in her attempts to press against his chest and murmured “Father” in a heated voice. She had to go home. But no one would let her go. Una wanted to tell them that she had to go back to her parents. The man carrying her back to the bedroom looked down at her, his previously distant blue eyes now flickering with a faint emotion.

Una looked up at him and, after a moment, moved her lips again.

“Father… I want to go to Father…”

She whispered, clutching her chest, her voice trembling with suppressed sobs.

Suddenly, the faint flicker in his eyes vanished, the heat that had been burning in them extinguished. He tightened his embrace around Una and moved on to the bedroom. As the familiar bed came into view, Una began to struggle, kicking her legs.

“Mother! Father!”

“Your mother is asleep.”

“No, no! I don’t want this!”

“Your father is here.”

Una, who had been writhing and whimpering, looked up at him. The arms were too thick around her waist. The man sat her down on his thigh and stroked her head gently.

“Ugh, ugh! Daddy! I want, I want to go home!” 

Una gasped and shook her head vigorously. The man pulled her shoulder closer and hugged her. Una, who had been screaming, burst into tears. 

“Waahhh-“

She wailed, and the man shushed her gently, blowing a soothing sound as he whispered. 

“Daddy says he’s here.” 

“Uwaaahhh.” 

“I’m here.” 

“Mommy, Mommy… home, I want to go home…” 

“This is your home, Mirabella.” 

The man who had been wiping her eyelids tightened his hold on her. After wiping Una’s tear-stained eyes, he muttered sternly.

“Open your eyes.”

Una flinched, her body shaking, and opened her eyes. Tears quickly welled up again. Her eyes filled with tears as she sobbed and looked at the man.

“Who do you see?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know…”

“I’m your father.”

Una shook her head and tried to close her eyes again. The man slapped her bottom lightly. A firm voice told her to open her eyes again. Trembling, Una opened them.

“I’m your father.”

“Ughhhh, no, no…”

“Mirabella.”

“Mommy, Mommy…” 

“Mirabella.” 

Una threw her head back, crying as if she might collapse from the sobs. Lady Ritsol, who had been watching the crying child, approached with a worried expression. 

“Your Majesty, the princess is only a two-year-old baby. If you scold her so harshly…” 

Her voice trailed off, hesitant and uncertain. Atlion’s face remained cold. Mirabella, who had been crying with her head thrown back, began to cough. Suddenly, his thigh felt warm and wet. 

Startled, Lady Ritsol moved to take the child in her arms. But Atlion pushed her hand aside and held the convulsively crying child himself. 

“Inform the servants to prepare water for washing and a change of clothes.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

The woman turned and walked away. Una watched her retreat, then looked down at her urine-soaked skirt with tear-filled eyes. This hadn’t happened to her since she was a baby. It wasn’t even a nightmare. Her cheeks quivered for a moment before she stared blankly into space.

She wanted her father. She wanted to go home and be spoiled. Suddenly a large hand brushed across her forehead. Una blinked. Her wet eyelashes were a mess. The man raised his hand to wipe her tear-stained eyes and pressed his lips gently to her forehead.

Soon a small ivory bathtub was set up in the bedroom. Several maids entered, carrying buckets to fill it with steaming water. Una stared into the warm, misty bath. The man, who had risen from the bed, stripped Una of her wet clothes and placed her in the tub.

“Aaaahng!” 

Startled, Una burst into tears, flailing her arms and legs. 

“Shh.” 

The man gently poured water over Una’s shoulders and back, making soft shushing noises as he wiped the snot from under her nose. Sniffing, Una caught the sweet scent of the water and sniffed curiously. Atlion looked down at the child, now completely exhausted and reduced to soft sobs.

The tiny hands gripping the edge of the tub were clenched tightly. Still unable to trust him, she twisted her arms and legs in resistance, even in his embrace. The memory of Swan, whom he had once locked in the bedroom, flashed through his mind. Swan had also trembled at his touch, her eyelids red with fear.

Atlion bit his lip hard. When the child continued to sniff and fuss, he poured water over her head, washing her white neck and gently scrubbing her little ears. After a few moments of squirming, the little girl finally looked up at him, panting like a kitten.

Carefully, Atlion washed the backs of her knees, where traces of urine might remain, before handing her to the maid to be wrapped in a dry towel. Once wrapped in the towel, the child was cradled in his arms once more.

“Mommy, Mommy…” 

The hoarse-voiced child called for Swan out of habit. Atlion looked down at his daughter sucking on her thumb, her soft, milky skin glistening with moisture. Her moist violet eyes shimmered – a perfect blend of him and Swan. A child conceived on that stormy night when they were trapped together in that cabin. 

His daughter. His young princess… 

“Your Majesty.”

The maid carefully folded and presented a baby tunic of fine silk. Unable to hold back her overwhelming emotions, Mirabella began to sob again as he held her in his arms. Mirabella whimpered and beat her fists against his chest.

Swan had done the same, pounding his chest. When he parted her legs and asserted his rights as her husband, she burst into tears and clung to his chest. After brushing away her pressing hands, he entwined their tongues. She was a woman who had forgotten who her husband was – no wonder she had run off with a mere soldier.