❝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴. ❞
Park Ye-jun was a quiet kid. Smart, but reclusive. And one in his life was his eter...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
2一 and he vowed to himself
༻𖥸༺
CLAUDE STARED AND HE FELT LOST at what he had to with the child in the newly placed crib in his bedroom. He wasn't even a month old and yet his son has stayed quiet the whole time he brought him back to the palace. Weren't children his age supposed to cry from even the smallest motive?
He didn't know.
He felt so utterly lost.
Should he hire a wet-nurse? A nanny? Someone to look after his son while he was unable to?
To those questions, flying though his head in an endless storm, Claude came up with a resounding, stern NO.
He didn't know who was behind the empress' murder. He didn't know their motives and he sure as hell didn't know if their intended target had been just the empress. He couldn't risk his son, his only heir, by placing an unknown person as his temporary guardian. Maybe he shall do so when he will grow up a bit and be better able to take care of himself.
But not now.
Peering down at the bundle in the crib, swaddled in silken blankets, he traced a finger along his baby's soft cheek and gave a small smile, filled with sorrow and hope.
This boy, this treasure, was all that was left of his beloved Lucille. It dawn's on him then, he shall be the one to take care of his son. He is frightened at the prospect of caring for this boy without his compassionate wife's guise, all he can do is just hope that he won't become a failure of a parent along the way.
On that note, he thinks wryly, holding back a grimace, he had yet to name his son.
Dealing with the rebels in the east had taken up too much time and attention away from his family life and he hasn't come up with a name for his heir. Just the idea that he'd left this dear child, for a month, without a name staggers him. (Had he truly been this careless?)
Seeing his son take hold of his much larger finger with his small hands and a toothless smile, he felt a tug at his heart. (How could this babe beam at him like that? Did he recognize him as his parent? Was it some instinctual part of this child that told him they were kin?)
"Athanasius."
He ran a thumb to his under eye, relishing in the feeling of this calmness brought about by the sight of his child.
"Athanasius de Alger Obelia, Imperial Crown Prince of Obelia."
He prays that he'll do good as a father and raise this child well.
────────────────────────
IT TOOK A WHILE FOR YE-JUN TO PROCESS what has just happened, having to go through a few mental hoops to make a list of everything that had happened.
