But this child… I looked at his feverish, flushed face, and I simply couldn’t bear to abandon him.
The wars between kingdoms – what could they possibly have to do with a helpless child?
If I truly sent him back, he would likely be dead within days. How could I live with myself?
“Mother... mother...” the boy mumbled, his small hand suddenly grasping mine, calling out in his fevered dreams.
“How could such a small child be guilty of anything? I am the queen. Can I not even protect one little boy?”
“But Your Majesty...” Viola began again, but I cut her off with a raised hand. I knew exactly what she was going to say.
The palace was cold and ruthless. The emperor was frail and sick, with little time left. I had entered this palace only to become a widow in all but name – how could there be any warmth in such a place?
But this child… fine. I would at least protect his life.
I knelt before the Queen Mother’s palace for three days and three nights, and at last, she relented. She agreed to let me raise Prince Caelan.
However, she asked me, “This child will never sit on the throne. He can’t offer you protection. Do you still wish to do this?”
“I have no regrets.”