Ren did not visit Zayden’s room the next morning, hoping that he would catch up on the sleep he had lost because of last night’s intruder. No matter how much he thought about it, it was strange that so many people wanted Zayden dead.

Wasn’t he the protector of Revhara?

Why would anyone want to remove him from their path?

Who was he troubling?

"Papa! What are you thinking so deeply about?" Eiran asked, looking up at his father who stood beside him. He hadn’t replied to anything he had been saying for the past few minutes.

"Nothing much."

"Really?" The child narrowed his eyes, doubtful. "Your eyes are red. Did you not sleep well?" he asked, taking a few sips of the juice placed on the table with a straw.

"I slept just fine," Ren lied, forcing a smile. How was he supposed to sleep soundly after watching Zayden being attacked right in front of him? The worst possibilities had run through his mind the entire night, barely allowing him any rest.

Eiran didn’t trust his father’s words but chose not to argue.

After attending Eiran’s breakfast, Ren brought him to play in the queen’s quarters.

The Queen’s wing was far more luxurious than Zayden’s—everything gleamed beneath the sunlight, and not a single trace of dust could be found. The windows were neatly shut, the curtains drawn just enough to let the light in. The walls were adorned not with family portraits but with paintings of warriors—figures who must have been legends of their time.

If someone asked, Ren knew he couldn’t name a single one of them.

Eiran, however, would occasionally shout their names whenever he recognized one, proudly announcing that he had learned about them in history class.

Ren could only smile. At least his son was learning things he never had the chance to in his own childhood.

"Stop right there!" a guard barked, raising his hand as soon as he spotted the pair of father and son. "Who are you?!"

Eiran frowned, puffing his chest slightly. "I am General Zayden’s son," he declared proudly, crossing his arms.

The guard’s eyes widened. "I—I apologize, Young Master! I failed to recognize you," he stammered, bowing his head in haste.

"It’s fine. I’ll forgive you if you bring me to see the Queen!" Eiran said with a grin, his earlier frown forgotten.

The guard hesitated for a brief moment before nodding quickly. He didn’t dare offend the General’s son. Who knew what kind of influence the boy might have?

After leading them down a bright hallway, the guard finally stopped before a tall, ornate door.

"Her Majesty is inside," he announced, bowing once more.

"Alright, you may leave," Eiran said with practiced authority.

The knight obeyed immediately and walked off.

Ren shook his head, unable to hide a small smile. Where did Eiran get that bossy nature from? It couldn’t have come from him—or from Ilyan. The only person who came to mind was Zayden.

Was simply living with someone enough to be influenced by them? The thought amused him. Of course, it was possible. If even he, a grown man, found himself affected by Zayden’s presence, what chance did a child have?

Eiran knocked, and a faint "Come in," echoed from inside.

The pair of father and son stepped into the room, unsure what to expect. To Ren’s surprise, the Queen’s quarters were far simpler than he had imagined.

Nothing like what he witnessed in the hallways.

A large bed stood near the far wall, flanked by neatly arranged wardrobes. A small table surrounded by three couches occupied the center of the room, while a single window let in filtered sunlight through its drawn curtains.

"My, I didn’t expect to see you both today," Leon said with a gentle smile. He was seated on one of the couches, a newspaper folded neatly in his hands.

Ren bowed, followed by Eiran, offering their greetings.

"Oh dear! You are family—there’s no need for such formalities," Leon sighed softly, shaking his head. "Come, sit here." He patted the seat beside him, his gaze landing on the child.

Without hesitation, Eiran rushed to his side. "I missed you!"

Leon blinked, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his features before a warm chuckle escaped him. He reached out and patted Eiran’s head affectionately.

"I’ve missed you too. But you haven’t come to see me lately."

"I have to spend time with everyone," Eiran said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

Leon laughed, clearly amused by his tone.

"You must be a busy young man. I’m honoured you made time to visit me today."

Ren gasped, a hint of panic in his voice. "Eiran! You shouldn’t speak like that to His Majesty."

"It’s alright," Leon said kindly, waving it off. "He’s just a child. Why don’t you sit for a while?"

"Well... I should check if the General has woken up," Ren replied, unsure.

"You can go," Leon said with a grin. "I’ll enjoy some time with him."

Ren hesitated but eventually bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

As he turned and walked down the corridor, a faint frown tugged at his lips. The hallways were strangely quiet, with barely any servants in sight.

Is he... not treated well because he’s not the Empress?

He wondered, inhaling deeply before heading toward Zayden’s room to wake him. It was already past noon, and the General had a meeting scheduled with the Emperor in the afternoon. He needed to wake up, wash up, and have some food—

His steps faltered when he caught sight of a dark-green-haired young man standing in front of the door, pacing back and forth as if debating whether or not to knock.

Enzo.

Ren froze. The sight unsettled him. Perhaps it was because Enzo was Charles’s husband—even if he claimed he wanted to end things, could he really be trusted? After all, he had been in Hianshu for twenty years.

With furrowed brows, Ren approached, raising a hand slightly as if to stop the man from stepping any closer.

"What brings you here?" he asked, scanning the man in front of him.