“Wash Ian’s face and change his clothes before the welcome party.”
Ivan handed his still-whining son over to the maids. Perhaps aware of his own sin, Ian, without much resistance, took the maids' hands and led them into the bathroom.
"Your Majesty."
He returned to the treasure vault to examine Amelia's portrait. Since entry was off-limits to non-royalty members, the interior was identical to the one he'd left with Ian in his arms.
“...”
Ivan carefully grasped the frame and turned it over. Ian must have been flailing his arms and legs in shock, writhing and thrashing, leaving marks of tears and footprints all over the portrait. Amelia's face was no different. Ivan carefully rubbed the marks on Amelia's face with his fingers. But the marks remained. The punctured eyelids wouldn't close naturally either.
The only thing that remained intact was the woman in his memory. He felt his stomach churning. Ivan closed his eyes and swallowed a groan.
If he didn't want to be angry, that would be a lie. He wanted to be angry and ask why Ian did this. But he couldn't.
"Your Majesty, please don't grant everything the Crown Prince asks. I fear he'll take everything for granted."
Mrs. Howard had already advised Ivan not to be too demanding of Ian. But Ivan simply couldn't ignore his son's pleas. Ian was still too young. And...
“I’ll just ask you to take good care of Ian.”
When he recalled Amelia's voice, asking Ian to take good care of Ian, he felt like he wanted to do anything for him. After all, he had taken away from Ian the mother who had loved him so dearly.
“...”
That didn't mean it wasn't painful. Ivan gazed at the mangled painting with longing, then shook off the broken frame and pulled out the damaged painting.
Maybe it means let her go now.
The mere thought brought tears to his eyes. Ivan couldn't do it yet.
“I’m sorry if that’s what you wanted.”
Ivan apologized in a soft voice.
“Just a little, just give me a little more time.”
On a subject that might never happen again, Ivan pleaded and begged the formless woman. Now, the pleas were a habit.
Just give me a little more time. Come into my dreams just once. Just once more, tell me you love me...
Waiting for an answer that will never come back.
“Papa...”
Ian, thoroughly washed and dressed like a member of the royal family, was watching Ivan closely. As he came to, he seemed to see the magnitude of his mistake.
“Come here.”
Ivan quietly lowered his knees and stretched out his arms toward the child. Ian, approaching with a brisk pace, wrapped his small arms tightly around Ivan's neck.
“I was wrong.”
And then he apologized again in a small voice. Ivan gently hugged Ian and stood up.
"It's okay."
“...”
“I’m saying that you didn’t do it on purpose.”
And I whispered to Ian, who must have been very surprised, that it was okay. But perhaps because of what he's seen, Ian looked completely incredulous.
“Mom hurt a lot, right?”
Ian asked. He seemed startled and kicked wildly, apparently not even bothering to check the painting's condition. Ivan hesitated for a moment, unsure how to explain the mess Amelia's portrait had become.
“Mom will understand, too.”
That was the best answer. But Amelia wouldn't have been upset if her son's accidental damage to her portrait had ruined it, so it wasn't a lie.
“Instead, you don’t go in there alone anymore.”
“...”
"And at the banquet we're going to, sit quietly. If you get sleepy, be sure to let me know. Understood?"
Ivan spoke, bumping his forehead against Ian's. Ian nodded, covering his forehead with his hand.
“Okay then. Don’t be afraid, I won’t get angry.”
Ivan smiled and comforted Ian. Ian was still wary, but he looked much more relieved than before.
“The people you’ll meet today are people with black hair and black eyes like Mama.”
“Is it Mama?”
"No."
To reassure his son, Ivan changed the subject to the people they would meet at the welcome party they were attending.
“They are all different people.”
"Mom's not there." Instead of saying that, Ivan answered indirectly. As a father, he knew that even the smallest nuances could hurt children.
“Someday, Ian, if you want, I will let you go see that land.”
“Really? Papa is the best!”
Ian's face immediately lit up. He completely forgot the sullen expression he'd been wearing just moments before, as he reflected on his actions. He seemed to have completely recovered from the shock of ruining his mother's portrait. Ivan, forgetting how his heart had burned, smiled quietly.
“His Majesty the Emperor and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Escliffe!”
It was when they stopped in front of the banquet hall where the welcome party was to take place. The guard at the door straightened his back and shouted in a commanding voice. As soon as the door opened, everyone inside turned their attention to Ivan and Ian.
“Wow.”
Ivan's expression remained unchanged as he began to walk along the red carpet laid out in the center of the banquet hall. Ian, who was clinging tightly to his neck, exclaimed in admiration.
“They’re all really dark, Papa.”
It seemed strange to see these people with dark eyes and hair like his. Ian only ever encountered such beings in his mother's portrait.
“You shouldn’t be too surprised.”
Ivan calmly patted Ian on the back and whispered. When he spoke in a rude tone, Ian quickly nodded and closed his mouth.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to convey my greetings properly since you said you couldn’t communicate...”
Ivan, who had reached the highest seat, sat Ian down in the chair next to him and turned to face the front.
“I have always been curious about those with black hair and black eyes, so I truly believe that your chance arrival on this land is God’s will.”
And although he couldn't understand a word of what he was saying, he smiled at those who nodded, sensing the friendly feeling in his tone.
“For those of you who still have some travel fatigue, I have prepared food and drinks for you. Enjoy yourselves and rest.”
Ivan finished speaking and nodded to Rodan. Rodan showed them a picture of a meal and a glass of wine and explained as best he could. They smiled and nodded, as if they understood. Then, as if expressing gratitude, they bowed their heads toward Ivan. Ivan nodded in agreement.
“Papa. Papa.”
Ivan told him to be quiet, but it was difficult for a five-year-old to do so. Ian, clutching the armrest with both hands, leaned toward Ivan.
“It’s amazing!”
And then he smiled broadly and whispered in wonder. It was a remarkably cute reaction. Ivan gently stroked his son's chubby cheek with his index finger.
“Didn’t you decide to keep quiet?”
Ian covered his mouth with his hand as if he had forgotten Ivan's question and made a sound.
“If you are hungry, ask the servants to bring you something to eat, and if you are sleepy, tell Mrs. Howard.”
And he nodded several times at Ivan's words. Just as the young baby's reaction seemed adorable, the guests Ivan had invited also wore happy smiles. Spotting those smiles, Ivan felt a surge of pride.
“Rodan, who is the highest-ranking one among them?”
Of course, as always, he kept his mind calm and collected. And he casually asked Rodan a question.
“The one on the right is wearing purple.”
"Purple?"
“Yes, I’m not sure, but it seemed like he was a member of the royal family in that country.”
Rodan answered with a certain understanding. Having been by Ivan's side his entire life, Rodan's judgment seemed to be correct.
“Ian, sit here for a moment.”
“Huh?”
“If you need anything, please ask the servant next to you.”
Ivan kissed Ian's forehead and urged him. The young Prince, completely unaware that the glance he had briefly glanced at the servant was like a blade, a warning to him to properly serve his young master, stamped his foot and nodded.
"Nice to meet you."
Having once again urged Rodan, Ivan moved toward the man clad in purple cloth. Perhaps sensing his approach, the man pulled a hand out from his oversized sleeve and politely folded his hands together.
[“I apologize for leaving your seat.”]
At that moment, a foreign language was spoken softly. Ivan involuntarily paused and stiffened.
“...”
His neck wouldn't turn, as if someone had fixed it squarely. Only his eyes shook, unable to focus.
[“Are you feeling better now?”]
[“Yes, it’s okay.”]
The woman who had entered late through the side door gradually drew closer to them. Her scent followed suit. Ivan felt his heart pounding wildly. Every sensation was beyond his control.
“...”
No way.
Ivan barely managed to roll his eyes and see the woman standing next to the man who had been greeting him.
Ivan handed his still-whining son over to the maids. Perhaps aware of his own sin, Ian, without much resistance, took the maids' hands and led them into the bathroom.
"Your Majesty."
He returned to the treasure vault to examine Amelia's portrait. Since entry was off-limits to non-royalty members, the interior was identical to the one he'd left with Ian in his arms.
“...”
Ivan carefully grasped the frame and turned it over. Ian must have been flailing his arms and legs in shock, writhing and thrashing, leaving marks of tears and footprints all over the portrait. Amelia's face was no different. Ivan carefully rubbed the marks on Amelia's face with his fingers. But the marks remained. The punctured eyelids wouldn't close naturally either.
The only thing that remained intact was the woman in his memory. He felt his stomach churning. Ivan closed his eyes and swallowed a groan.
If he didn't want to be angry, that would be a lie. He wanted to be angry and ask why Ian did this. But he couldn't.
"Your Majesty, please don't grant everything the Crown Prince asks. I fear he'll take everything for granted."
Mrs. Howard had already advised Ivan not to be too demanding of Ian. But Ivan simply couldn't ignore his son's pleas. Ian was still too young. And...
“I’ll just ask you to take good care of Ian.”
When he recalled Amelia's voice, asking Ian to take good care of Ian, he felt like he wanted to do anything for him. After all, he had taken away from Ian the mother who had loved him so dearly.
“...”
That didn't mean it wasn't painful. Ivan gazed at the mangled painting with longing, then shook off the broken frame and pulled out the damaged painting.
Maybe it means let her go now.
The mere thought brought tears to his eyes. Ivan couldn't do it yet.
“I’m sorry if that’s what you wanted.”
Ivan apologized in a soft voice.
“Just a little, just give me a little more time.”
On a subject that might never happen again, Ivan pleaded and begged the formless woman. Now, the pleas were a habit.
Just give me a little more time. Come into my dreams just once. Just once more, tell me you love me...
Waiting for an answer that will never come back.
***
“Papa...”
Ian, thoroughly washed and dressed like a member of the royal family, was watching Ivan closely. As he came to, he seemed to see the magnitude of his mistake.
“Come here.”
Ivan quietly lowered his knees and stretched out his arms toward the child. Ian, approaching with a brisk pace, wrapped his small arms tightly around Ivan's neck.
“I was wrong.”
And then he apologized again in a small voice. Ivan gently hugged Ian and stood up.
"It's okay."
“...”
“I’m saying that you didn’t do it on purpose.”
And I whispered to Ian, who must have been very surprised, that it was okay. But perhaps because of what he's seen, Ian looked completely incredulous.
“Mom hurt a lot, right?”
Ian asked. He seemed startled and kicked wildly, apparently not even bothering to check the painting's condition. Ivan hesitated for a moment, unsure how to explain the mess Amelia's portrait had become.
“Mom will understand, too.”
That was the best answer. But Amelia wouldn't have been upset if her son's accidental damage to her portrait had ruined it, so it wasn't a lie.
“Instead, you don’t go in there alone anymore.”
“...”
"And at the banquet we're going to, sit quietly. If you get sleepy, be sure to let me know. Understood?"
Ivan spoke, bumping his forehead against Ian's. Ian nodded, covering his forehead with his hand.
“Okay then. Don’t be afraid, I won’t get angry.”
Ivan smiled and comforted Ian. Ian was still wary, but he looked much more relieved than before.
“The people you’ll meet today are people with black hair and black eyes like Mama.”
“Is it Mama?”
"No."
To reassure his son, Ivan changed the subject to the people they would meet at the welcome party they were attending.
“They are all different people.”
"Mom's not there." Instead of saying that, Ivan answered indirectly. As a father, he knew that even the smallest nuances could hurt children.
“Someday, Ian, if you want, I will let you go see that land.”
“Really? Papa is the best!”
Ian's face immediately lit up. He completely forgot the sullen expression he'd been wearing just moments before, as he reflected on his actions. He seemed to have completely recovered from the shock of ruining his mother's portrait. Ivan, forgetting how his heart had burned, smiled quietly.
“His Majesty the Emperor and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Escliffe!”
It was when they stopped in front of the banquet hall where the welcome party was to take place. The guard at the door straightened his back and shouted in a commanding voice. As soon as the door opened, everyone inside turned their attention to Ivan and Ian.
“Wow.”
Ivan's expression remained unchanged as he began to walk along the red carpet laid out in the center of the banquet hall. Ian, who was clinging tightly to his neck, exclaimed in admiration.
“They’re all really dark, Papa.”
It seemed strange to see these people with dark eyes and hair like his. Ian only ever encountered such beings in his mother's portrait.
“You shouldn’t be too surprised.”
Ivan calmly patted Ian on the back and whispered. When he spoke in a rude tone, Ian quickly nodded and closed his mouth.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to convey my greetings properly since you said you couldn’t communicate...”
Ivan, who had reached the highest seat, sat Ian down in the chair next to him and turned to face the front.
“I have always been curious about those with black hair and black eyes, so I truly believe that your chance arrival on this land is God’s will.”
And although he couldn't understand a word of what he was saying, he smiled at those who nodded, sensing the friendly feeling in his tone.
“For those of you who still have some travel fatigue, I have prepared food and drinks for you. Enjoy yourselves and rest.”
Ivan finished speaking and nodded to Rodan. Rodan showed them a picture of a meal and a glass of wine and explained as best he could. They smiled and nodded, as if they understood. Then, as if expressing gratitude, they bowed their heads toward Ivan. Ivan nodded in agreement.
“Papa. Papa.”
Ivan told him to be quiet, but it was difficult for a five-year-old to do so. Ian, clutching the armrest with both hands, leaned toward Ivan.
“It’s amazing!”
And then he smiled broadly and whispered in wonder. It was a remarkably cute reaction. Ivan gently stroked his son's chubby cheek with his index finger.
“Didn’t you decide to keep quiet?”
Ian covered his mouth with his hand as if he had forgotten Ivan's question and made a sound.
“If you are hungry, ask the servants to bring you something to eat, and if you are sleepy, tell Mrs. Howard.”
And he nodded several times at Ivan's words. Just as the young baby's reaction seemed adorable, the guests Ivan had invited also wore happy smiles. Spotting those smiles, Ivan felt a surge of pride.
“Rodan, who is the highest-ranking one among them?”
Of course, as always, he kept his mind calm and collected. And he casually asked Rodan a question.
“The one on the right is wearing purple.”
"Purple?"
“Yes, I’m not sure, but it seemed like he was a member of the royal family in that country.”
Rodan answered with a certain understanding. Having been by Ivan's side his entire life, Rodan's judgment seemed to be correct.
“Ian, sit here for a moment.”
“Huh?”
“If you need anything, please ask the servant next to you.”
Ivan kissed Ian's forehead and urged him. The young Prince, completely unaware that the glance he had briefly glanced at the servant was like a blade, a warning to him to properly serve his young master, stamped his foot and nodded.
"Nice to meet you."
Having once again urged Rodan, Ivan moved toward the man clad in purple cloth. Perhaps sensing his approach, the man pulled a hand out from his oversized sleeve and politely folded his hands together.
[“I apologize for leaving your seat.”]
At that moment, a foreign language was spoken softly. Ivan involuntarily paused and stiffened.
“...”
His neck wouldn't turn, as if someone had fixed it squarely. Only his eyes shook, unable to focus.
[“Are you feeling better now?”]
[“Yes, it’s okay.”]
The woman who had entered late through the side door gradually drew closer to them. Her scent followed suit. Ivan felt his heart pounding wildly. Every sensation was beyond his control.
“...”
No way.
Ivan barely managed to roll his eyes and see the woman standing next to the man who had been greeting him.
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