Yuma woke up to an empty bed.
Kaisen was gone.
For a split second, panic surged through her chest, but exhaustion quickly dulled it. She remembered today was the Imperial Prince's naming ceremony — a grand, busy day. She had no heavy duties until later, only to help Mirha get ready and attend the event. Still, she couldn't risk being seen leaving Lord Kaisen's chambers in the morning light.
She quickly changed out of the night gown into her day clothes, folded everything neatly, and slipped out through the window. She dropped lightly into the garden below, heart racing as she brushed dirt from her skirt.
Just as she straightened up, she came face to face with Lady Reka, who was walking along the flower path. Reka's eyes widened in surprise when she saw a woman jumping down from the wall — especially when she realized the window belonged to Lord Kaisen's chambers.
Yuma froze, then laughed nervously.
"Good morning, my lady," she said, forcing a bright smile.
Reka's lips curved into a knowing smile. "How are you doing, Yuma?"
"I'm fine," Yuma replied quickly, smoothing her hair. "I just… decided to come look at the flowers and pick some for Lady Launi."
Reka glanced once more toward the window, then back at Yuma. Her smile softened with amusement.
"Enjoy your morning, then."
Yuma bowed deeply and walked away as fast as she could without running, cheeks burning with embarrassment. She needed to get out of there before anyone else saw her.
When she finally reached her own small room, she changed into fresh attire and headed straight to Mirha's chambers.
The room was already bustling. Several maids were carefully laying out Mirha's elaborate gown for the naming ceremony — layers of rich silk in deep emerald and gold. Yuma sighed quietly, but when she looked up, her eyes met Lady Reka's across the room. Reka smiled and gave her a small wave, clearly still amused from their garden encounter.
Mirha turned to her with a gentle smile.
"Yuma, I have a gown for you to wear today as well."
Yuma's stomach dropped. She prayed silently that the neckline would be high enough to hide the bruises Kaisen had left on her throat last night.
When the gown was brought out and held up for her, her heart sank. The cut was elegant but low — the collarbone and base of the neck would be clearly visible. The bruises would show. She wanted to protest, to ask for something else, but Mirha was already speaking with quiet insistence.
"It will look beautiful on you. Try it on."
Yuma swallowed hard and nodded, forcing a small smile. She couldn't argue in front of the other maids.
Mirha then turned to Reka.
"And you have to be my company today, Reka. I need familiar faces around me."
Reka simply nodded, her expression warm. "Of course."
Yuma slipped behind the screen to change, dread pooling in her stomach. Mirha was clearly doing everything she could to distract herself — and perhaps Yuma too — from the heavy drama of yesterday. The naming ceremony, the beautiful gowns, the forced normalcy… it was all a carefully built shield against the pain still lingering in the air.
As Yuma fastened the gown and felt the fabric settle against her skin, she touched the bruised skin at her throat lightly.
She would have to be very careful today.
Later that morning, as the maids finished helping Mirha into her ceremonial gown, Lady Reka stepped inside the chambers carrying a small bundle. Her eyes immediately landed on Yuma, who was adjusting the neckline of her own gown with trembling fingers.
Reka noticed the bruises instantly — the dark fingerprints circling Yuma's throat. She didn't flinch or show any shock. Instead, she simply reached into the folds of her own elegant gown and pulled out a delicate silk scarf in soft gold and cream. Without a word, she stepped forward and handed it to Yuma.
Yuma bowed deeply, cheeks flushing with gratitude and embarrassment. "Thank you, my lady."
Reka gave her a small wink and whispered, "It's alright."
When they stepped out of the dressing area, Mirha glanced at Yuma and frowned in confusion. "Reka, wasn't that scarf meant for you?"
Reka smiled smoothly and waved a hand. "It was making me uncomfortable. Yuma's gown needed the extra touch more than mine did."
Mirha studied them both for a moment, but she didn't press the issue. She simply nodded and turned her attention back to helping her mother, Launi, get ready for the naming ceremony. Mirha was doing everything she could to keep the day focused on beauty and duty, trying to push yesterday's heavy confessions and pain into the background.
---
Meanwhile, in the Imperial Study, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
Kaisen entered with a blank expression, his face carefully composed. Inside the room waited Emperor Arvin, the Imperial General Kain, Duke Rnzo, and — most significantly — Lord Vharin, Kanha's father.
The men sat in heavy silence. Arvin had summoned them all, unsure how to begin the delicate conversation. He had no idea that Kaisen already knew everything.
Arvin cleared his throat and began explaining the situation — Kanha's long manipulation, her bullying of Mirha, the drugging of Kaisen, and the child now growing as a result of her deception.
When Arvin finished, Kaisen spoke calmly.
"I already know."
The room went deathly still. Surprise rippled across every face.
Duke Rnzo leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "Who risked their life to tell you?" His tone was half-joking, but the question was serious. Everyone in the room knew Kaisen's terrifying temper — a rage that saw no gender, no status, no mercy when fully unleashed.
Rnzo continued, "Is the messenger still alive?"
Lord Vharin looked pale and broken. He bowed his head deeply. "I am truly sorry for what my daughter has done. I cannot tell you where I went wrong in raising her. She deserves whatever punishment you see fit… but I beg for your mercy on her life."
Vharin looked ready to drop to his knees and beg on the floor, but Kaisen raised a hand.
"No need to do that, Lord Vharin. I only wish to speak to Kanha. Alone."
Duke Rnzo immediately cut in. "No." He knew his brother's rage better than anyone. In his current state, Kaisen might actually kill her.
Kaisen did not respond.
Arvin studied Kaisen carefully for a long moment, reading the cold calm on his face. Finally, he nodded.
"You may."
General Kain turned to his brother in disbelief. "You can't be serious, Arvin. You know Kaisen would—"
He stopped himself mid-sentence, not wanting to scare Lord Vharin any further.
Lord Vharin, however, simply lowered his head in resignation. "You can talk to her."
Kaisen stood. "That will be all."
He turned toward the door, then added over his shoulder, "Have her come to the eastern pavilion."
----
Kaisen was already waiting in the eastern pavilion when Kanha arrived.
She walked slowly, each step heavier than the last. Her heart hammered so hard it made her ribs ache. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking, so she clasped them tightly in front of her. When she reached him, she stopped a respectful distance away and waited.
"Sit," he said quietly.
She sat.
She opened her mouth to apologize, but he cut her off before the first word left her lips.
"Don't."
Kanha closed her mouth, pressing her lips together until they hurt.
Kaisen looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
"I still don't understand how you thought any of this would make me love you," he said, voice low. "Drugging me. Lying. Taking away the one person I actually wanted. You really believed that would work?"
He didn't wait for an answer.
"Last night Yuma came to me. She told me everything. I was so angry— so angry I put my hands on her. She still begged me to forgive you."
Kanha's breath caught. So it really had been Yuma.
Kaisen leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees.
"I can't forgive you, Kanha. Not even a little. Right now, the only reason I'm not doing something I'll regret is because you're carrying my child."
He pointed at her stomach with a small, deliberate motion.
"That's the only thing keeping you safe."
Kanha looked down at her belly, then back up at him. The man sitting in front of her felt like a stranger — the same gentle voice she once knew, but now carrying an anger so cold it made her skin crawl.
Kaisen continued, calm and final.
"Here's what's going to happen. You will carry the child to term. You will give birth. And after that… you will have no claim to it. You will not be its mother. Not in name, not in practice. You will stay away from both of us."
Kanha felt the words land like stones in her chest. Tears welled up instantly, but she forced herself to nod. She had no ground left to stand on. She deserved this.
Kaisen watched her for a moment longer, then asked, almost tiredly,
"Is there anything you want to say?"
Kanha's voice came out small and cracked.
"I'm… very sorry."
He stood up slowly.
"Have a good day, Lady Kanha."
Without another word, he turned and walked away down the pavilion steps, leaving her sitting there alone.
The moment he was out of sight, the dam broke.
Kanha folded forward, arms wrapping around her stomach as harsh, ugly sobs tore out of her. She cried until her throat burned and her chest felt hollow, the beautiful morning light doing nothing to warm the cold emptiness settling inside her.