Chapter 12

‘Like father, like son…’

Enria couldn’t help thinking that blood truly couldn’t be denied as she watched Caldeon holding Hayden.

He furrowed his brows repeatedly, clearly struggling to interpret the baby’s babbling.

“Abya. Abyabya.”

“What’s he saying?” Caldeon asked, looking at her.

“No idea.”

“You’re his mother. If you don’t know, who would?”

“Just because he came out of my stomach doesn’t mean I can magically understand baby talk.”

At that moment, Hayden yawned widely and rubbed his face against Caldeon’s jacket.

“Abyaa.”

“Oh, he must be sleepy.”

Enria reached out to take the baby, thinking it was time to put him to bed—but before she could, Hayden hugged Caldeon tightly and shook his head at her.

“Adya. Abyaya.”

Caldeon’s eyes widened in surprise, and Enria fRosee, then awkwardly pulled her hands back.

“Seems he wants to sleep in your arms.”

“What?”

“See? He’s already closed his eyes.”

Sure enough, Hayden was already breathing softly, fast asleep in Caldeon’s arms.

Caldeon looked down at the baby, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and confusion, then walked over to the sofa and carefully sat down.

“How can he fall asleep so easily in my arms? Does he even know who I am?” he muttered.

‘Of course he does. He must feel you’re his father.’

Enria thought to herself. Hayden had reached for Caldeon so naturally, as if drawn by instinct. He clearly found comfort there.

“I’m going to kill your father someday, so that’ll make me your mortal enemy. You shouldn’t be sleeping so peacefully in my arms.”

‘If the father kills the father and becomes the enemy, then… wait, how does that even work?’

Enria frowned at his grim murmur and looked across the sofa at him. He was still watching the sleeping child with his brows knit tightly.

‘Does he dislike Hayden?’ she wondered.

And really, why wouldn’t he? Caldeon was hardly the paternal type, and he believed Hayden was another man’s child—his mistress’ child, no less.

‘But why doesn’t he ever even consider that Hayden might be his?’

It puzzled her deeply. She had spent countless nights with him, calming his berserk state through physical union.

‘He must have known pregnancy was possible. And Hayden looks exactly like him.’

It was almost absurd—no one else in the world could resemble Caldeon so completely. Anyone who saw Hayden would know at a glance that they were father and son.

Even the color of the baby’s eyes—black as obsidian—was proof enough. Such eyes were nearly unique to the Jupiter family line.

‘Just looking at those eyes should make him suspect it.’

Yet Caldeon seemed utterly convinced that Hayden could not be his.

He must have a reason—a firm one—for that belief.

Enria decided she’d have to find out what that reason was.

Then, Caldeon slowly leaned back against the sofa, adjusting himself so Hayden could sleep more comfortably against him.

He began gently patting the baby’s back, his movements careful and almost tender.

Watching them, Enria felt something stir in her chest—something complicated and unsteady. Her heartbeat quickened for reasons she couldn’t name.

Her precious child… and the man who was that child’s father.

When she’d resolved to raise Hayden on her own, she’d never imagined a scene like this.

She hadn’t even thought Caldeon would see his child.

After all, he had abandoned her, and married another woman. There should have been nothing left between them.

‘And yet here we are…’

A silent sigh slipped from her lips.

Hayden slept soundly in Caldeon’s arms, breathing softly, while Caldeon kept patting his back until the baby eventually stirred awake from hunger.

It was a peaceful, almost heartwarming sight.

At least, until—

“Of course I’m sleeping here too.”

Enria blinked.

She had just finished feeding Hayden and was about to put him down for the night when she found Caldeon standing squarely in front of the bed.

“C-Caldeon, you should be sleeping in your own room.”

“This is my room.”

“No, it’s supposed to be the duchess’s chamber now—”

“Enria.”

At the mention of Roseanne, Caldeon’s brows drew together.

“You’re jealous.”

“What? No, I—”

“Too bad for you, but the duchess isn’t someone you need to be jealous of. So stop thinking about her.”

‘That’s easy for you to say…’

How could she not think about it?

He was a married man—a newlywed, no less—and here he was, abandoning his wife to sleep in the same bed as his former mistress.

Any woman in Roseanne’s place would lose her mind.

‘Don’t tell me this is where the bad ending starts…’

The thought made her swallow hard. The dread she’d felt when she first entered this world returned all at once.

She watched as Caldeon climbed into her bed and calmly settled himself.

“I can’t share a bed with another woman’s husband.”

At her words, Caldeon’s hand, mid-motion with the blanket, fRosee.

He slowly lifted his gaze, eyes cold and sharp.

Thankfully, Hayden was in his crib beside the bed, babbling and playing with a toy—otherwise, the silence between them would’ve been suffocating.

“What did you say?”

“…It’s adultery. I don’t like that. I’ve already lived being called your mistress for years. Now, after your marriage, I’d be called your concubine or your affair partner.”

“Enria.”

“I could endure that alone, maybe, but I have a child now. I won’t let him be branded the bastard of an affair. Even if everyone already thinks we’re the mistress and her child, I won’t accept it.”

Caldeon’s brows drew together sharply, his patience finally snapping.

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

“If anyone dares call you a mistress, I’ll cut their throats myself.”

“……”

“Yes, I married. But that marriage was nothing more than a cover—an illusion. It wasn’t real.”

Enria was speechless.

Cover or not, he had stood beside Roseanne before witnesses, exchanged vows, rings, and a kiss.

‘And that’s not a real marriage? What, does a political reason make it fake?’

“Whether you think it’s real or not, the world knows you and Lady Roseanne are husband and wife,” she said flatly.

“That—”

“You say it was just a means to an end. But that means has weight. She’s the duchess, your sworn partner, the one who stands beside you. If she is the means, then act accordingly.”

Caldeon’s face went rigid.

“Means or not, you now have a lifelong partner,” Enria continued. “And that partner is doing her duty as your wife.”

“……”

“So you should do your duty as a husband.”

“……”

“And as for me—I have my own duty. I’m a mother. And a mother does not share her bed with another woman’s husband.”

His face twisted into something dark and furious.

But Enria met his gaze without flinching.

“If you insist on using this room,” she said calmly, “then Hayden and I will move to another.”

Even after she finished, Caldeon said nothing—just stared at her, his eyes unreadable.

She didn’t look away either. Their standoff stretched long and tense.

‘Is he really planning to just stare me down all night?’

Finally, when she opened her mouth to speak again, Caldeon beat her to it—his low, resonant voice cutting through the air.

“Is that why you bore another man’s child? Because I got married?”

She was about to deny it, but stopped.

The truth was complicated. His marriage hadn’t been the cause, exactly—but everything had begun after he’d cast her aside for it.

‘…I suppose, in a way, it started there,’ she thought silently.

“I should have explained properly back then,” Caldeon said, letting out a sigh that sounded almost regretful. “I was a fool.”

Then, to her utter shock, he stepped down from the bed and said, “Let’s go to the duchess’s chamber. Right now.”

Enria’s eyes went wide in disbelief.