Chapter 86
“I can’t spend another night outside.”
He gripped the reins of his steed Silin and spurred it on again.
The man’s scarlet cloak whipped through the wind.
Aidan’s speed toward his home outpaced even the breeze.
“My Grand Duke, you seem impatient today.”
Aidan frowned, recalling Heikinen’s earlier chatter.
He could not deny the words.
Aidan’s heart was restless.
Without taking a single breath, after racing to the palace, then entrusting Silin to the stable, he stepped inside the castle without even pausing to remove his boots.
Four months ago, Aidan and Floria had a son.
Beloved Clesia.
Floria, after searching through the Sief dictionary, gave him the name Clesia, meaning “one worthy of love.”
At first so tiny, smaller even than a fawn, his body curled in the amniotic fluid, his face red and wrinkled—but after one hundred days, he had grown chubby and adorable.
This was the first time Aidan saw the child so close.
Aidan was the youngest in his household and once he came of age had spent almost all his time outside, so he had had no chance to see the baby.
He wondered if someone like him could grow fond of a child, but the moment the child was born, Aidan fell completely for Clesia’s charms.
The thick, strong fingers used for wielding a sword—Clesia clasped them with his fragile hand.
When Aidan spoke in a low voice, “Clesia,” the child smiled, the shape of the smile so like his beloved wife, Floria.
A pang struck somewhere deep in his chest.
A feeling he had never felt before.
The thought of leaving the newborn behind to go outside the palace made Aidan uneasy.
If only the border tour could have been completed before midsummer, he would never have left the palace.
And Floria. Ah, Floria.
Thinking of her, Aidan’s footsteps grew more urgent as he raced up the palace stairs two steps at a time.
From the moment he first met her—when she was a curious girl, eyes bright with playful light—Aidan had desired her.
Floria was his only salvation in a world where he valued nothing but duty.
After marrying her, living with Floria, his emotions only deepened.
What had once been mere crimson desire evolved; loving feelings were added, and even just a small sigh from her, or the slightest, sweet curve of her lips, made his heart race in ways he didn’t know how to control.
He wanted to touch her, press his lips to hers.
He never thought his deep feelings could deepen further—but his love for Floria kept growing stronger.
The sight of her nursing Clesia, her white full b****t revealed, holding the child—it was so beautiful he couldn’t tear his eyes away for a single moment.
He loved her.
No—he worshipped her.
Having been apart from her for a month drove him nearly mad.
No matter how much water he drank, his mouth was dry; thirst would not be quenched.
There was only one way to stop this thirst: to see her.
To hold his wife’s soft body and press his lips to her warm mouth.
“Your Highness.”
On the palace stair landing, as he entered, the attendants hurried up, reaching out to take his armor and clothing.
Aidan quickly stripped off his gear and washed his hands in clean water.
He was ready to embrace Floria and the child; before exchanging even greetings, he asked—
“Where is Floria?”
He didn’t care if someone noticed his urgency. After all, weren’t they husband and wife?
Was it not natural that the husband wanted his wife?
“Where is Clesia?”
Before the chief attendant could answer, Aidan’s second question sprang out.
Realizing immediately that this was no moment for formalities, the attendant bowed his head and replied.
“He is sleeping.”
“Both of them?”
“Grand Prince Clesia is already asleep.”
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