Raised From The Wild-Chapter 428: A Glimpse To Ibrahim’s Childhood

"Grandma, please don’t despair. Daddy never harbored any resentment about his childhood. He used to tell me stories—vivid, wonderful stories—about how he was a prince and his palace had a vast playground, elegant fountains, a swing, and monkey bars. And behind the palace, tall trees stood like watchful sentinels, waiting for him to climb."

Amaya’s voice was soft and soothing as she gently held her grandmother’s hand.

Queen Lucinda’s breath hitched. So... Ibrahim had seen the Forbidden Place as his kingdom, his domain.

A deep sigh escaped her lips.

"Your Daddy Ibarra and Daddy Ibrahim were close. I made sure that they bonded well and supported each other. Your Grandpa and I made it up to your father by allowing him to go out and replace Ibarra once a week." A smile that did not reach her eyes appeared on her wrinkled face.

"At first, King Duncan did not agree. He said that it was a huge risk. What if someone close to us harbored rebellious thoughts and used Ibrahim as a pawn? However, the king saw that Ibrahim was innately a good person. He was, after all, his flesh and blood, so he agreed on that arrangement."

Queen Lucinda hesitated, then continued, her voice tinged with something unreadable.

"But unknown to us, Ibarra began asking Ibrahim to take his place at school—to sit for exams in subjects he despised, like Mathematics and Science, and to compete in sports where he was weak, like archery and horse racing. And so, for a time, Ibrahim lived a third of Ibarra’s life."

Princess Amaya looked at her Grandmother. A small smile appeared on her face. Then her gaze flickered toward the far end of the room, where a grand mahogany display shelf stood prominently. Two of its layers gleamed with trophies and medals.

"Yes," the Queen murmured, following her granddaughter’s gaze. "Those are the awards Ibrahim won while posing as Ibarra. When I fell into depression, I spent hours in this very room. Your grandfather thought... if he replicated all of Ibrahim’s trophies and medals, it might comfort me."

Amaya’s eyes landed on a familiar gold medal—the insignia of the Battle of the Titans gleamed on its surface. It was awarded for the archery competition.

Her breath hitched.

So, it wasn’t Lireya’s crown prince who had won those competitions. It was her father.

The truth hit her like a crashing wave. She had seen that same medal displayed in the royal museum. When she once asked Daddy Ibarra about it, he had merely shrugged, his expression unreadable, evading the topic. Now she understood why.

Sometimes, she did not know whom to pity more, the crown prince Ibarra or her biological father, the hidden prince.

A lump formed in Amaya’s throat, and she felt a pang in her heart. Her father achieved so much but could only stay in the shadows.

"I know what you’re thinking, Aya." Queen Lucinda’s voice was quiet but firm. "Your father... he never desired the throne. It was he who convinced Ibarra to let him compete in the biennial sports tournament. Both of them knew Ibrahim was exceptionally skilled in archery, and no one in Lireya could rival his horsemanship."

The queen reached for the medal, her aged fingers caressing its golden surface. The metal glowed under the light, reflecting in her eyes, which, for a fleeting moment, sparkled like they once did in her youth.

"He said that he wanted to bring honor to Lireya and it was okay for Ibarra to claim credit. At first, Ibarra did not agree. Ibarra was also a prideful person, just like your father. But Ibrahim was persistent. It was only later that I understood what Ibrahim’s true reason was."

Amaya looked at her grandma, willing for her to continue.

Lucinda’s lips parted, and for a moment, the weight of the past settled heavily upon her shoulders.

"Danaya," she whispered. "Your mother. She was competing in the equestrian event. Ibrahim wanted to be there—to support her."

Amaya’s heart clenched.

Danaya. Her mother. Ibrahim’s first and only love. The only wound in his heart that had never healed.

"Danaya only won bronze that year," the queen continued. "But for Lireya, that was already a great achievement. We held a grand celebration upon their return."

Lucinda’s voice softened. "I suppose those were some of Ibrahim’s happiest moments in the palace. Ibarra, unable to attend the victory banquet, remained hidden in the Forbidden Place—allowing his brother, just this once, to stand in the spotlight."

"No one suspected it wasn’t Ibarra, not even your Grandfather."

Amaya arched an eyebrow. "No one?"

"Except me, of course."

She recalled the first time she had met Ibarra. At a glance, she, too, had mistaken him for her father. But upon closer inspection, their eyes... their eyes were different.

Lucinda smiled wistfully. "When they were younger, even your grandfather couldn’t tell them apart. But when Ibrahim left for military school, he changed. His hair, his mannerisms—everything became distinct. There were small, subtle differences between them."

Silence hung between them before Amaya spoke again.

"Grandma... I know this is the past, but... how did Daddy Ibarra end up marrying my mother?"

The queen’s hand trembled as she clutched the gold medal. Her eyes dimmed, as if the memory itself pained her.

"Ibarra begged your grandfather. He said... he said that he could not live without Danaya, that he only wanted Danaya to be her Princess Consort and no one else."

"I did not know when your Daddy Ibarra started having feelings for your mother. The three of them grew up together. Danaya would often visit me and slip into the Forbidden Place."

"I didn’t know. If I knew, I would have punished Ibarra for coveting his brother’s girlfriend. When I discovered it, they were already in front of the altar. Danaya wanted to refuse, but Ibarra threatened her with Ibrahim’s life."

Lucinda exhaled sharply, her voice laced with regret.

Amaya felt a lump in her throat. It must have hurt her father and mother a lot.

"I was furious," the queen admitted. "I refused to speak to Duncan and Ibarra for a long time. And then... Ibrahim cut ties with us entirely. That’s when my depression truly began."

She turned to Amaya, her gaze softening.

"But then you came."

Lucinda reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from Amaya’s face.

"The moment I saw you, I suspected you were his daughter. Your eyes sparkled just like his when he was a child."

She smiled—a genuine, weary smile.

"In the end, what was not fated... was never meant to be."

A gentle silence followed before Amaya spoke, her voice steady yet filled with emotion.

"It’s alright, Grandma. I suppose, in all those years on the island, my mother—at least her memory—must have been with my father. She lived in his heart. I may not remember her face, but Daddy... Daddy never forgot. He painted her in such vivid colors that it felt as if she was still with us."

Queen Lucinda nodded.

She swallowed back the lingering bitterness of the past.

Her son may have lived isolated... but at least he had lived with love.