Unaware that he’d held the baby too tightly, Sys anxiously studied her tiny face. Moments ago, he’d acted as if the baby didn’t matter, but now his entire focus was on her.
“She’s fine. Just startled,” Bee reassured him.
Though exhausted, her smile as she gazed at the baby was the most beautiful Sys had ever seen.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“Thank you.”
Bee’s eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture.
Sys longed to kiss her lips, too, but mindful of the baby in her arms, he expressed his feelings with words instead.
“I love you, my Bee.”
She smiled back, a different warmth from the tender one she gave the baby, but to Sys, every smile of hers was dazzlingly beautiful.
“Sister, I want to see the baby too!”
Lant, unwilling to be overlooked, inserted himself between Sys and Bee. Seizing the moment, Marquis Elient and Evan also drew closer to her side.
Sys regretted not sending them away earlier.
“Say hello to the baby, Lant,” Bee said, lifting the infant for him to see.
Lant let out a soft gasp at the sight of the red-faced, sleeping baby.
“She’s so tiny.”
Her closed eyes, small nose, and puckering lips looked impossibly delicate to him. He examined her with wonder, marveling at every detail.
“Want to hold her?” Bee offered.
“No way!” Sys blurted out.
“Wah!”
The baby, startled by his loud voice, began to cry again. Bee shot him a reproachful glance.
“I just meant… what if my brother-in-law drops her?” Sys mumbled defensively, aware of his mistake.
How could he explain a father’s instinct to keep his precious daughter from another man’s arms? Bee might scoff, but to Sys, it was vital.
While Bee soothed the baby, Sys glared at Lant, warning him not to touch his daughter.
Lant bristled at the warning. He considered holding the baby just to spite Sys, but hesitated. She looked so fragile—like a soap bubble Bee used to make when he was young, ready to pop at the slightest touch. His hands felt too big, too clumsy.
As Bee rocked her arms, the baby quieted, but unlike before, she didn’t fall back asleep. Still shaken by Sys’s outburst, her flushed face hiccupped continuously.
“Let me soothe her, Your Majesty,” said the most experienced of the appointed nursemaids, extending her arms.
Reluctantly, Bee handed the baby over. With so many people around, the infant might get startled again. The nursemaid carried her out to the adjacent nursery.
Though currently a birthing chamber, the room was Bee’s bedroom in the Empress’s Palace.
Following tradition, nursemaids were appointed, but Bee intended to raise the child herself as much as possible. Reflecting her wishes, the nursery was placed right beside her bedroom.
“You worked hard,” Marquis Elient said softly, his gaze lingering wistfully on the door where the baby had been taken.
“Well done, Bijonne,” he added, turning to her.
His hand rested on her shoulder.
“You did great.”
His gruff tone carried deep warmth. Knowing his heart better than anyone, Bee gave him a radiant smile.
“How does it feel to be a grandfather?”
The Marquis had been so focused on Bee’s pregnancy that he’d forgotten he was now a grandfather. He answered honestly.
“It’s strange.”
It was different from when Bee was born. His heart tickled, and he felt immense pride in his daughter for bringing a new life into the world.
It was also a day that vividly reminded him of her mother—his one and only wife, gone too soon.
“Congratulations on the princess’s birth, Your Majesty,” Evan said, bowing quickly as Bee’s gaze fell on him.
“You must be exhausted from waiting outside so long,” she replied.
“It’s my duty,” Evan said matter-of-factly, though his weary face betrayed his fatigue.
“Go rest, Evan. I need to rest too,” Bee said firmly, knowing he’d never leave otherwise. “After you’ve rested well, protect me and the baby at your best.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty,” Evan replied after a brief pause, satisfying her.
She turned to the Marquis and Lant.
“Father, you and Lant should rest too.”
“Yes, you rest well too,” the Marquis replied.
Bee had endured over a day of labor to bring the baby into the world. Her eyelids drooped despite her will, and staying conscious this long was a feat of sheer determination.
The Marquis, eager for her to rest, quickly ushered Lant and Evan out.
Sys watched Bee, who had fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep, with tender concern.
Waving off the approaching maids, he carefully adjusted her uncomfortable position, laying her down gently.
Bee was a light sleeper, often waking at his slightest movement. Yet now, she slept so soundly that it was clear how exhausted she was.
Sys, having stayed awake all night, was tired too, but it paled in comparison to her ordeal.
Dismissing the remaining staff, he lay beside her, pulling her warm body into his arms. Her familiar scent and steady breathing enveloped him.
A sigh of relief escaped his lips. Only now, feeling her warmth, did he truly believe she was safe. His erratic heartbeat finally steadied.
“Ha, I can’t go through this again,” he muttered, holding her closer.
The harrowing experience was one he never wanted to repeat. Another round would destroy his heart. Listening to her pained screams, powerless to help, was worse than any torment.
“I’ll change the law,” he vowed.
Imperial law barred women from inheriting the family line, including the throne. No empress had ever ruled in the empire’s history. But in this moment, Sys resolved to rewrite that law.
He couldn’t put Bee through childbirth again. Once was enough. Yet their newborn was a princess, not a prince eligible for the throne.
Falsifying her as a prince was impossible, and having another woman bear his heir wasn’t even a consideration.
There was only one solution: allow a princess to inherit the throne. The idea of his daughter as the first empress didn’t sound bad at all.
Amending the law would be arduous, but for now, he just wanted to hold Bee and rest. His breathing slowed, syncing with hers.
A satisfied smile curved his lips as he drifted into sleep.
Five Years Later
“Your Highness! Princess!”
“Haven’t you found Her Highness yet?”
“My apologies, Head Maid!”
At Mari’s scolding, the maids searching the palace for Princess Sasha frantically bowed.
“Haa, Madame Miela has already arrived, and where is the princess?”
As a sigh escaped Mari, the Empress’s trusted confidante, the maids, feeling responsible for Sasha’s disappearance, bowed even lower.
Hmph, think I’ll come out?
Hidden among the dense branches of a tree, Sasha scoffed at Mari and the maids.
She loved pretty clothes, but being Madame Miela’s dress-up doll for hours was unbearable.
As Luiasha’s chief designer and a fashion titan, Madame Miela was uncompromising. From dresses to shoes and accessories, everything had to be perfectly coordinated to her satisfaction.
Caught by her, Sasha would spend hours—or even days—trying on countless dresses and adornments, repeating the tedious cycle of dressing and undressing.
The thought alone was dreadful.
For lively Sasha, time with Madame Miela was torture. Hiding from the maids’ view, she prayed the designer would give up and leave soon.
“The palace is quite lively,” a low voice suddenly remarked.
Startled, Mari and the maids turned, quickly bowing to the voice’s owner.
