Eyan was still on his knees. His hands trembled faintly against the marble floor, his face pale.

  “She’s going to kill me…” he whispered under his breath.

  A gentle voice drifted from the entrance.

  “Honey… who’s going to kill you?”

  His heart stopped.

  Slowly—like a man walking toward his execution—Eyan turned his head.

  Eva stood at the grand doorway, sunlight spilling behind her like a halo. Aranel remained quietly at her side.

  “Eva…” he breathed.

  She smiled brightly and stepped inside.

  “What are you doing here at the palace?” he asked weakly, as if her presence itself was a threat.

  “I came to surprise you,” she said playfully. “Do you like my surprise?”

  Eyan only stared at her. He looked terrified.

  Eva tilted her head slightly. “Honey… what’s wrong? You don’t look happy to see me.”

  Her gaze drifted downward. She noticed him kneeling. “And why are you on the floo—”

  Her words paused deliberately. Her eyes shifted past him. Leo stood quietly behind Eyan, silver hair shining beneath the chandelier light. For a brief second, he lifted his thumb subtly toward her.

  Eva’s expression did not change. She lowered her hand slowly and pointed at him.

  “Eyan,” she asked softly, “who is that child?”

  Eyan froze.

  Before he could answer—

  “Oh, sister-in-law,” Luca said smoothly, “that child is Eyan’s son.”

  Eyan’s head snapped toward Luca in betrayal.

  Luca shrugged lightly. “Why are you looking at me like that? You can’t hide it from her.”

  Hans cleared his throat dramatically as if confirming the statement.

  Eva’s eyes widened with perfect disbelief. “He is… what?”

  She turned sharply toward a nearby table. A decorative vase rested upon it. She picked it up slowly. When she turned back, her eyes burned with controlled fury.

  Eyan scrambled to his feet, stumbling slightly.

  “Eva—wait—please let me explain!”

  “Then explain,” she demanded, gripping the vase tightly. “What relationship do you share with this child?”

  Eyan’s mouth opened.

  “That—he—this kid—my—he is—”

  “That he… this kid… my… he is?” Eva mimicked him mockingly.

  “Say it clearly,” she snapped. “Who is this child?”

  Eyan’s voice cracked. “I don’t know either!”

  The vase flew. It shattered loudly against the wall beside him as he barely dodged in time. Fragments scattered across the marble floor.

  Eyan stared at her in raw fear. She had never thrown anything at him before. Not like this.

  Eva slowly turned away from Eyan.

  If she looked at him any longer, she might lose control—of the act… or of her laughter.

  Instead, she faced the boy.

  “Kid,” she said calmly, though her tone carried weight, “you tell me. What relationship do you share with His Majesty?”

  Leo lifted his chin bravely. “His Majesty is my father.”

  The words landed like thunder.

  Eyan stumbled forward in panic. “No—Eva, he is lyin—”

  She shot him a deadly glare. “Shut up,” she said coldly. “Don’t say a word. I am not talking to you.”

  Eyan immediately went silent. He swallowed hard. The Emperor of Velmoria—silenced with a single look.

  Eva turned back to Leo, her expression softening beautifully. “Do you have a name?”

  “Yes,” the boy answered politely. “My name is Leo.”

  “Leo,” she repeated gently, as if tasting it for the first time. “That’s a lovely name.”

  Eyan’s chest tightened.

  Eva continued gently, “Leo, how do you know His Majesty is your father? Do you have any proof?”

  Before Leo could respond—

  “That kid has proof, sister-in-law,” Luca interjected smoothly. “He showed Mother’s pendant as evidence. And Eyan’s wolves recognized him immediately.”

  Eva slowly turned her head toward Luca. “Oh really…?”

  Eyan felt a cold chill slide down his spine.

  Her voice had become dangerously quiet.

  She looked back at Leo. “Leo… what about your mother? Where is she right now?”

  At that question, even Eyan’s panic shifted. He looked at the boy sharply. Yes.

  Who was the mother?

  He wanted to know too.

  Leo lowered his gaze.

  His small shoulders trembled slightly.

  “I don’t know,” he said softly. “My mother left me at an orphanage when I was just a child. They said the pendant was with me… along with a letter.”

  Eva’s brows knit together. “A letter? What letter?”

  Leo reached into his pocket with small, careful fingers and pulled out a slightly worn envelope.

  He handed it to Eva.

  “I don’t know what it says,” he added quietly. “I don’t know how to read.”

  Eva looked at him with visible sympathy. She accepted the letter slowly.

  Eyan moved closer unconsciously, his heart pounding painfully in his chest.

  If there was a letter—

  Then there was truth.

  And whatever truth it carried could destroy him.

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  Eva unfolded the paper carefully.

  The hall was silent.

  Eva’s eyes moved across the page. For a split second— The corner of her lips twitched. She suppressed it instantly. Her expression hardened instead.

  Eyan stood beside her, close enough to see the strokes. The paper was slightly aged, the ink dark and deliberate.

  His blood ran cold.

  That handwriting—

  It looked like his. Not similar. Identical. His sharp slanted letters. The precise pressure at the ends of each stroke. Even the way the ink dipped slightly at the curve of certain words.

  Eva glanced at Leo. Her expression softened.

  “Leo,” she said gently, crouching slightly so she was closer to his height. “This might be… something children shouldn’t hear.”

  Leo blinked innocently.

  Eva gave him a small smile. “Close your ears for a moment, hm?”

  Leo obediently pressed his small hands over his ears.

  Eyan swallowed.

  What could possibly be in that letter that required—

  Eva lifted her gaze briefly toward him.

  Then she began to read aloud.

  Eyan’s breath faltered.

  “I never—” he started.

  She did not stop.

  His pulse began to pound in his ears. Each word sounded like something he would say. Something intimate. Something dangerous.

  Eva’s eyes flickered briefly toward him before returning to the page.

  Eyan swallowed hard. His throat burned.

  Eva continued.

  His fingers curled into fists.

  Eva continued.

  The hall felt smaller. Air thinner.

  Eyan’s heart stopped. His eyes lifted slowly to her face. She did not look at him. She kept reading.

  The words struck like a blade.

  Eyan staggered back a step. His expression cracked.

  “I never wrote this,” he breathed.

  But it sounded like him.

  Like the version of him that spoke only in private. Only in devotion.

  Eva’s voice softened as she read the final lines.

  His vision blurred.

  Her voice dropped almost to a whisper.

  Silence stretched for one fragile second after the last word of the letter.

  Then it shattered.

  Eva’s hand tightened around the paper. Her eyes lifted slowly to Eyan. There was no softness in them now. Only fire.

  Her voice rose sharply as she repeated the first line.

  Before Eyan could react— She struck his chest with the flat of her palm.

  Thud.

  He stumbled back a step, caught completely off guard.

  “Eva—”

  She hit him again. Harder.

  Another strike.

  His back nearly collided with a pillar.

  “I never wrote that!” he said, breath uneven.

  Her palm hit his chest again. Each word she repeated was like a weapon. Each sentence a blow.

  “You remember it well enough to describe it poetically!” she snapped.

  Thud.

  He staggered again. He didn’t defend himself. Didn’t grab her wrists. He simply endured it. Because he saw the hurt in her eyes.

  she repeated mockingly.

  Another hit.

  Her hand struck his chest again, harder this time. Eyan lost his balance and took two steps back.

  Hit.

  Hit.

  His heart pounded violently beneath her palm. It wasn’t the force that hurt. It was the words.

  “You wrote this!” she accused, voice shaking. “You wrote that you loved them before you even knew their name!”

  Thud.

  He stumbled back again, his heel slipping slightly against the polished floor.

  “Eva, listen to me—”

  Her fist pressed against his chest this time instead of striking, gripping the fabric of his clothes.

  “Forever yours?” she demanded. “Forever whose, Eyan?!”

  Eva stepped closer. Close enough that her shoulder brushed his chest. Close enough that her lips were a breath away from his ear.

  The anger on her face slowly twisted into something worse.

  Amusement. Cruel amusement.

  “Do you remember,” she whispered softly, mockingly, “what you told me after our first night?”

  Eyan’s throat tightened. “Eva—”

  “You stood there,” she continued, voice low and taunting, “so proud of yourself.”

  Her fingers slid up the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric lightly. “And you said it was your first time.”

  A quiet, disbelieving laugh escaped her. “I told you that was impossible.” Her eyes lifted to his, glittering. “No man performs like that on his first attempt.”

  His jaw clenched. “It was the truth.”

  She leaned closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear.

  “Oh, I’m sure it was,” she murmured sweetly. Then her tone sharpened like a blade. “But now…”

  Her fingers pressed against his chest and pushed him back a step. “Now I’m starting to think I was right.”

  His back hit the pillar again.

  She didn’t stop.

  “You didn’t just ‘practice,’ did you, Your Majesty?” she said mockingly. Her brows arched. “You had a full duel.”

  “And from the looks of this letter…” she added, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you fought quite bravely.”

  Another shove to his chest. “And you were victorious.”

  The humiliation burned across his face. “That is not true,” he said through clenched teeth.

  But she wasn’t finished.

  Her gaze slid past him.

  Toward Leo.

  Small. Silent. Watching.

  “And it seems,” she finished coolly, gesturing faintly toward the boy, “your reward arrived today.”

  Eva stared at him for one long, trembling second.

  Then suddenly— Her knees gave out. She collapsed onto the cold marble floor. The sound echoed through the hall.

  “Eva!” Eyan rushed forward instantly. But before his fingers could even brush her arm—

  “Don’t touch me!” Her voice cracked sharply, raw and broken.

  His hand froze midair. As if burned.

  She pulled herself away from him, shaking her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “How could you…” she sobbed, her voice barely steady. “How could you stand in front of me and swear you were mine?”

  The sight of her on the floor shattered something inside him. “Eva, listen to me—”

  “I said don’t touch me!” she cried again, scrambling backward as if his presence hurt her.

  Eyan stopped moving completely. He looked as if someone had struck him across the face.

  Aranel rushed forward immediately, kneeling beside Eva and pulling her gently into her arms..“Easy… breathe…” Aranel whispered softly.

  Eva buried her face into Aranel’s shoulder. Her crying came—but it wasn’t strong enough. Aranel subtly pinched her arm. Hard.

  Eva gasped sharply— And then the tears came for real. Her sobs grew louder, more convincing, trembling through her entire body.

  Eyan felt his chest cave in. He had seen her angry. He had seen her stubborn. But crying like this— Because of him— It broke him.

  “I never betrayed you,” he said hoarsely. “I never loved anyone else.”

  Eva lifted her tear-streaked face.

  Her voice trembled. “You can keep your son.”

  The words struck him like a physical blow.

  “He has done nothing wrong,” she continued through broken sobs. “Give him your name. Give him everything you promised in that letter.”

  “Eva—”

  “And you can search for his mother,” she added bitterly. “The one you loved so deeply.”

  Eyan’s breathing became uneven..Each sentence felt like a nail sealing something shut.

  She wiped her tears roughly..Then her voice dropped into something colder.

  “Let’s end this.”

  Her voice was hollow. Final.

  “Let’s end our marriage.”

  The words did not echo. They collapsed. Eyan stared at her as if he had misheard. As if his mind refused to process the sentence.

  “No.”

  It came out instantly. Raw. Shaking.

  “No,” he repeated, crawling the short distance between them on his knees. “You don’t mean that.”

  Eva turned her face away. “I cannot live with a liar.”

  That was enough. Something inside him snapped. He reached for her hands. This time she did not pull away fast enough. His fingers wrapped around her wrists, trembling—not forceful, not commanding—desperate.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered.

  The king was gone. Only a broken man remained.

  “I don’t know how that letter exists, but I swear to you—there has never been another woman.”

  His grip tightened slightly, as if afraid she would vanish.

  “You were my first,” he said, voice cracking. “You were my only. I have never touched anyone else. Never loved anyone else. I don’t even look at anyone else.”

  His breathing became uneven. “If I have unknowingly wronged you, punish me. Hate me. Strike me.”

  His forehead almost touched her hands. “But don’t leave me.”

  His voice broke fully then. “If you walk away, I have nothing left.”

  The Emperor of Velmoria was kneeling. Begging. His shoulders trembled.

  “Please,” he whispered one last time. “Don’t end our marriage.”

  Eyan’s chest still heaving, his hands trembling from the weight of the last few moments. His mind raced in a thousand directions.

  Then Eva spoke.

  “Fine. I won’t leave you. I won’t end our marriage.”

  Eyan froze, staring at her, disbelief written across his face.

  “You… you won’t?” he stammered, voice cracking with relief.

  “No,” she said, eyes sparkling, a tiny smirk tugging at her lips.

  Eyan’s hands flew forward, grabbing hers tightly. “Thank you… thank you so much! For giving me another chance!”

  Eva squeezed his hands, a small laugh escaping her. “Then let’s live together.”

  She looked down at Leo. “We can all live together—You, me, and our two children.”

  Eyan’s head jerked up. Two children? He blinked rapidly. “Two… children?”

  Eva smiled mischievously. She gently took his hand and placed it on her belly.

  Eyan’s face scrunched up in confusion.

  “Wait… what? Are you… in pain? Is something wrong?” he stammered, concern overtaking him as his hands trembled.

  Eva rolled her eyes, a small laugh escaping her despite the tension.

  “No,” she said, her voice teasing, “I’m saying is our child.”

  Eyan froze. His mouth went dry.

  “Child?” he repeated, disbelief and awe mixing in his tone.

  Eva’s smile softened, warm and radiant, full of love and mischief.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her hand brushing his over her belly. “Honey… I’m pregnant.”

  Eyan’s eyes widened.

  “Pregnant…” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  .

  .

  To be continued—