She had been his mother, driven unjustly from her position as queen by the king’s affair.

Perhaps she had found a way through that grief by taking in and raising her friend’s illegitimate child.

And it seemed Raul had been just as attached to her in return.

There was no other explanation for drawings this warm.

Looking at his mother’s soft, gentle smile, Andrea found his own lips curving upward without meaning to.

He had not visited often enough, and seeing through these drawings the quiet, ordinary days of her life that he had never known felt like something restored to him.

Her walking through a garden full of roses and tulips. Her smiling at an organ. Her bent over embroidery.

But only for a moment.

Page by page, the figure of his mother in the drawings grew thinner and thinner. It was startling that even in drawings, that darkening change could be felt so clearly.

He knew that after her friend Mina passed away, his mother had grown melancholy and gradually weaker, but seeing that change laid out this plainly made his chest drop.

Andrea’s hands reached for another sketchbook.

Now the drawings of Queen Marietta showed her consistently propped against pillows in bed, looking out toward a window.

There were so many of these that Raul must have been at her side constantly.

While he himself had been too occupied with the knights’ order to visit often.

It struck him then, quietly and without warning, that the idea he had been doing Raul a favor by taking in a child with nowhere to go had been an arrogant delusion.

The boy had always been at his mother’s side, watching over her through her illness, and had preserved those moments in drawings like these.

How could he drive someone like that away.

His mother would have been furious too, if she had known.

Andrea’s heart had found its justification, and it tipped decisively.

Above all, there was no way he was going to grant the boy’s wish to go out and live alone.

And when it came down to it, without the boy around, Andrea himself was simply too inconvenienced.

Of course, every time the image of his own n*ked body broadcast to the world came back to him, his face burned and something deep in his chest churned and seethed……

‘Still, well…… everyone will think it’s just a metaphor. No one will take it as real.’

And above all…… the boy had drawn that part of him faithfully, without distortion, and on a generous scale. That counted for something.

Andrea rubbed his chin and thought about it.

If rumors had spread through the women of the capital that the crown prince was surprisingly lacking down there, he would not have been able to let it go.

In that case, he would have handed Raul a punishment without mercy.

‘Hah…… what am I even thinking.’

Andrea shook his head roughly, as if to dislodge the juvenile train of thought, raked his hair back, and snapped the sketchbook shut.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The next day.

Andrea called Alfonso in and gave the order.

“Bring Raul back.”

Called to the study for the first time in nearly a week, Raul looked terrible.

The boy had always been thin, but clearly had barely eaten. The face was hollow, and one good gust of wind looked like it would carry him off. Andrea’s chest dropped before he could stop it.

Those swollen eyes held no mischief, only misery and desolation.

The sight of those small hands fidgeting anxiously together was almost too much to look at.

Andrea leaned forward in his seat toward Raul and murmured with deliberate ease.

“You’re a grown man. Crying this much over something like this.”

He had been the one throwing around words like treason and execution to frighten the boy, and yet here he was, smiling faintly.

“Did you actually think I was going to throw you in prison?”

“It’s not that…… hic……”

Raul tried to answer and seemed to start crying again, pressing a fist against the corner of his eye.

The answer that came out was unexpected.

“I finally understood how serious the crime I committed was…… I truly didn’t know people were mapping Captain Alain onto Your Highness……”

Fat teardrops fell again, and Andrea shook his head.

He gestured for Alfonso to hand over a handkerchief, then continued.

“Enough. Stop crying and listen. There’s nothing more to say. I’ve decided to forgive you. We’ll treat it as if it never happened, and starting today you’ll work exactly as before.”

Raul’s puffy eyes went wide.

But Raul immediately shook his head vigorously and pushed back in a congested voice.

“No! I can’t accept that. I deserve to be punished. Whatever the punishment is, I’ll take it willingly. That would put my mind at ease! Hic……!”

Raul was sniffling about prison sentences and trying to drop to his knees again, and Andrea caught him with one hand and pushed him back into the seat with a sigh.

“I don’t like going back and forth on things. We’re treating it as if it never happened, so stay. You said you don’t like working in the palace. That’s exactly why this is your punishment.”

Riley sat in an awkward half-posture and stared at Andrea blankly.

She had been certain she would be expelled, and at worst, locked in a dungeon for years. And he was going to let it go?

She sat there blinking, and a long finger flicked her red nose.

“In exchange, drawing is completely forbidden from now on.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

A few days later, Andrea entered the king’s bedchamber.

“I heard you were unwell.”

Reports had come in that the king, who had recently begun missing morning council meetings citing frequent headaches, had taken to his bed entirely, and Andrea had come directly.

The royal physician happened to be pouring the morning medicine into a cup.

The king roused himself slowly, pressed a hand to his head with a weary look, and took the medicine.

“You’ve come. It’s nothing serious, but my head keeps throbbing. And I get short of breath.”

The king downed the medicine and glanced at Andrea, then pointed to a chair to indicate he should sit.

“You must be busy managing state affairs on your own. I’ve been receiving reports on urgent matters, but handle anything pressing at your own discretion and report to me afterward.”

“I have been doing so.”

The king was still a relatively young man, barely past his late forties, with a solid build and no grey in his hair.

Until a year or two ago, he had been vigorous enough to relish hunting and balls, a man of considerable appetites.

And yet this man, always so imperious and self-assured, was suddenly complaining of ailments.

“I suppose I’m getting old. These days getting out of bed in the morning is an effort. Or perhaps I’ve grown a little lazy, trusting in you.”

The palace butler standing in attendance behind him began to slowly knead the king’s neck, and the man, already looking drained, seemed to shrink into a frail old figure in a back room.

He had always been a man of relentless energy and endless romantic entanglements.

A strange feeling passed through Andrea.

“Please don’t worry too much, Your Majesty. It’s the strain of the recent debt preservation negotiations with the Ratan Kingdom’s envoys. I’ve sent word to procure a fine tonic, so your strength should return soon.”

“Yes, well. Having you here means I have little to worry about, but it’s absurd that I now need days of rest after every major affair.”

A servant brought in a deep mulberry wine and hot tea, and Andrea steered the conversation toward something lighter.

But the king seemed to remember something and let a slight frown cross his face.

“Speaking of which, I heard a strange thing recently and meant to ask you about it.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Well, I heard there’s some sort of n*de portrait of you circulating out there. What on earth is all that about?”

Andrea had just taken a sip of tea and nearly spat it out, but composed himself and explained calmly.

“It’s not a n*de portrait, it’s a romantic serial novel……”

“What? Someone stripped you bare and wrote a novel about it? The crown prince of the Kingdom of Arvel? Outrageous! Whatever it is, why have you been letting it go?”

The king’s voice rose, and the authority that had once been fearsome flashed back to life.

“Please don’t worry, Your Majesty. It has already been resolved. I allowed it to continue for a time, thinking some degree of press freedom was necessary, but when it went too far, I tracked down those responsible and put an end to it.”

The king clicked his tongue.

“Things like this must be cut off at the root from the start. Never forget that what people call ‘press freedom’ almost always carries an underlying intent to weaken royal authority. Do not let something like this go unchecked under the guise of observation again.”