LDAD 27

CH:27

“As promised, I will take the child.”

“Thank you for the grace of the sun.”

After signing both copies, Ivan took his copy of the oath and confirmed the arrangement. Amelia bowed deeply, sincerely grateful to him.

“…Does the child have a name?”

Ivan, who had been quietly watching her, asked the question.

“Will you call him by that name?”

Silence fell in the drawing room. Amelia admitted to herself that it was selfish to want the Emperor to call Ian by the name she had given. It was a protective instinct—but ultimately, she had failed to protect the child and was now entrusting him to another. It wasn’t a wish someone like her had the right to make.

“I will.”

Just as she was about to say he could call the child by a new name, he gave an unexpected answer.

“Tell me what you called him.”

His voice was as gentle as that man’s—her former lover.

Unconsciously, Amelia clenched her hands tightly on her lap. She repeated in her mind that this was not the Ivan she had loved. Yet the hem of her dress crumpled pitifully within her fists.

“…Ian.”

That wasn’t all. Without time to make up an excuse, the truth tumbled out.

“His mother called him Ian.”

“……”

“She didn’t abandon him. She was trying to protect him. I heard she named him after the child’s father.”

And now she feared he might ask how she knew the child’s father’s name. Amelia hurried to add a flimsy excuse, trying to sound like she’d merely heard the story from someone else.

“The reason she gave up the child?”

Ivan’s question made Amelia widen her eyes. She hadn’t thought he’d be remotely interested in that.

“I heard the child’s father died in an unexpected accident.”

“……”

“She found out about the pregnancy too late, and since her family had opposed the man from the start… they tried to kill the child as soon as he was born.”

So she let a stranger take the baby without protest. Amelia lowered her gaze halfway. It was far too emotional a response for someone claiming she only heard the story secondhand. Her expression was unbearably sorrowful.

“…I see.”

Ivan responded a beat late, watching her. It was impossible to know what exactly he felt, but at the very least, it was clear he felt a hint of pity.

“Let us hope, then, that this child can become a symbol of alliance between the temple and the imperial family.”

Amelia bowed silently in gratitude.

“To that end, I’ll begin with a show of goodwill. I promise—the child will remain Ian, and he will grow up as a friend to my future child.”

Thank goodness. Hearing Ivan’s promise, Amelia nodded with a faint smile. She couldn’t know if he would keep his word, but it would still be a better life than here. And if he did keep it, Ian would surely grow up happy. That alone was enough.

“If you ever wish to see the child, you’re welcome to visit. It will benefit both the temple and the crown.”

Then, unexpectedly, Ivan extended another kindness. Amelia’s lips parted slightly in surprise. A man without a consort or an heir—he couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to give up one’s own child.

“I will always have a place prepared to receive you.”

“…Thank you.”

Amelia managed a hoarse reply, her eyes fixed on the teacup on the table to hold back tears.

Ivan said nothing in response. He simply gathered one copy of the signed oath, tucked it into his coat, and rose from his seat.

Could he really be Ivan?

Suddenly, something swelled in her chest. She had convinced herself he couldn’t be—but the way he’d behaved now sparked a sliver of hope.

“Ivan.”

Amelia cautiously raised her head and called the name of her man. Back then, Aaron had told her Ivan was dead—but he had been alive. So perhaps he had also somehow survived that fire.

“……”

But there was no answer—just an indifferent gaze looking down on her.

Of course not. She lowered her eyes with sorrow. She’d known he wasn’t, yet still clung to a thin thread of hope.

“…Sorry.”

Ivan’s soft voice broke the silence.

“I have to protect the child first.”

Amelia’s eyes widened in shock. She snapped her head up and fixed her gaze on him. He was expressionless—but not with the indifferent eyes of a stranger.

“…Later.”

It was Ivan. Her Ivan.

“Rodan!”

Just as the certainty came, it passed. Before Amelia could rise to her feet, Ivan had stormed to the bedroom door, flung it open, and stepped outside, calling for Rodan.

“Get the child. We’re returning to the palace.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The baby let out a whimper, perhaps having been picked up by the servant Ivan brought. The sound of Ivan’s retreating footsteps echoed.

The confusion in her heart faded quickly. Even though nothing was visible before her, she felt at peace. Amelia closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands.

Ivan was alive. And Ian had been saved by his own father. With that thought, everything felt complete.

“Amelia Escleif.”

She was at peace—even as Aaron, brimming with fury, flung the door open and called her name in the gentlest of voices. Even if he now wanted to throw her into the fire himself.

Rodan looked down at the baby in his arms. Though the child had just been separated from its mother, it had fallen asleep without any sign of fear. He didn’t know what to say.

“There really was a child.”

“Yes. Seemed like he was close to death.”

Ivan answered indifferently. Though his eyes were fixed on the child, there wasn’t a trace of affection in them—not even the simple fondness one might feel for a newborn.

“Close to death?”

“The priestess is human, but for 200 years she carried on the myth of divine immortality.”

Rodan blinked.

“She gave birth to daughters with black hair and black eyes, just like herself, over and over.”

“……”

“Look at his hair.”

Ivan gestured toward the baby’s head. Rodan’s eyes naturally followed the gloved hand.

“It’s the same color as mine. But the eyes are black. Regardless of gender, the appearance alone makes the child worthless.”

Worthless. Ivan said the word Rodan couldn’t bring himself to utter.

“What do you plan to do now?”

“He’s a symbol of goodwill between the temple and the crown. So I’ll raise him well, with elegance.”

Sitting cross-legged, Ivan looked like a sculpture—but more like a man assessing a purchased object than a father.

“If he dies someday, he should be beautiful enough to break his mother’s heart.”

That was Ivan’s evaluation of his own child: passable, at best. Rodan had worked with him long enough to read him well. Ivan’s eyes revealed all.

“I’ll handle the residence and the staff assignments.”

Rodan wasn’t surprised. Ivan had the looks of a god, but not the heart of a man. That was nothing new. It just wasn’t the answer Rodan had hoped for.

“Fine.”

Ivan gave a swift approval, as though he’d never intended to care for the child at all. Then he turned his gaze to the window, signaling the end of the conversation.

The child hadn’t chosen his parents or his fate—but he had been born into tragedy. Rodan couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity.

“What shall we call him?”

Maybe that’s why he wanted to give the baby a proper name. He tapped the baby’s nose gently with a bare finger and asked.

Ivan’s gaze, previously fixed on the window, shifted briefly to the child.

“Ian.”

He answered quietly.

“It resembles Your Majesty’s own name.”

“Does it?”

Ivan responded carelessly, as if he hadn’t realized. But Amelia’s words still echoed in his mind.

‘She didn’t abandon him. She saved him. She said she named him after the child’s father.’

Ivan tried to imagine the woman looking at their child and naming him with just one syllable changed from his own.

Was she happy? Sad? Lonely? Did she resent him?