Chapter 26

Caldeon looked down at Hayden, who was rubbing his eyes in his arms.

He had spent the entire day shut away in his study, catching up on reports and paperwork delayed by Panz’s earlier assault on the Grand Duke’s castle—an attack carried out in alliance with the black mage as both a warning and a show of power.

He had just finished his work and stepped out into the corridor when he happened to run into Hayden, who had just woken up and was whining in Chavel’s arms.

The moment the baby saw Caldeon, he reached out with both hands, demanding to be held.

Caldeon sighed but had no choice—he picked Hayden up.

The child, who only moments ago had been fussing about his mother’s absence, nestled against Caldeon’s chest and began to yawn peacefully.

It was absurd, and yet, strangely heartwarming. With a faint smile, Caldeon turned toward the drawing room, still holding the baby.

“I understand I’m a comfortable person to hold on to, but really, clinging to me like this isn’t proper. I’m not your—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

He didn’t want the child to hear him say I’m not your father—I’ll kill your father.

Even if Hayden couldn’t yet understand a single word, saying such a thing felt cruel.

And besides, it was possible the boy’s father was somehow related to his own mother.

Not that it would change what he intended to do—he would still kill the man who had touched his woman.

Hayden, oblivious to all of this, rested comfortably against his chest, babbling as if trying to tell him something.

“Daddy, ddy, daddy-ddy.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Daddy, daddy.”

“I can’t understand a word you’re saying. When will you finally learn to speak, Hayden? It’s impossible to have a conversation with you right now.”

Shaking his head, Caldeon murmured to himself as he entered the drawing room and told a servant to bring something the baby could eat.

When he tried to set Hayden down on the sofa by the window, the baby immediately reached out and clung to him, refusing to let go.

“Were you an octopus in a past life?” he muttered, lightly patting Hayden’s bottom as the boy clung to his neck, still babbling incessantly.

By the time Chavel arrived with the baby’s meal, Caldeon was still sitting there, one hand rhythmically patting Hayden’s back.

She approached quickly and set the bowl of baby food on the table.

“Lord Hayden, allow me to—”

Before she could even finish, Hayden tightened his little arms around Caldeon’s neck and buried his face in his chest, letting out a loud, indignant “U-dya!”

Caldeon gestured for Chavel to leave, then pulled the food toward him.

When she was gone, Hayden relaxed, releasing his grip and leaning comfortably against him.

Caldeon scooped up a spoonful of the baby food and held it out. Hayden opened his tiny mouth wide—“Ah”—and obediently took the bite.

Watching the boy eat so naturally, Caldeon felt an unfamiliar warmth stir inside him.

He couldn’t quite explain it—Hayden suddenly seemed cuter, more precious somehow.

All the baby was doing was sitting in his lap, eating from his hand, and yet Caldeon’s chest felt tight with a strange, protective affection.

As Hayden ate, Caldeon noticed the little hand gripping the hem of his coat, and that small gesture struck him with a feeling he couldn’t name—something overwhelming and tender all at once.

“You know,” he said softly, “I think you’ve mistaken me for your father.”

“Daddy.”

“Your mother is my woman, yes, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Daddy, daddy.”

“—that I’m your father…”

“Daddy-ddy.”

He stopped.

He had been about to deny it—but what was the point?

He fully intended to put Hayden under his family registry anyway.

For now, political matters surrounding the acting Grand Duchess made it impossible, but it wouldn’t be long before he resolved that.

Soon enough, Hayden would officially be recognized as his son.

He looked down into those large, dark eyes so much like his own.

The memory of Hayden’s use of black mana came to him.

Just that—sharing the same power—made the boy feel like his own flesh and blood.

He was the only one in the world known to possess black mana.

How Hayden had inherited it, he couldn’t guess. But that connection alone made it impossible to see him as anything other than his son.

Feeding the baby another spoonful, Caldeon couldn’t help smiling at the small, eager mouth that opened again and again for him.

‘Well… he’ll be registered as mine anyway. He’s practically my child already.’

Hayden was Enria’s child, and Caldeon had already decided to raise him himself.

Since he and Enria could never have children of their own—her being the Saintess and his mana too unstable—the boy was the only natural heir to his house.

And he had no intention of ever taking another woman as wife.

The only problem was that he would have to kill Hayden’s biological father.

Once that man was gone, there would be no obstacle to calling Hayden his son.

The child’s black mana—matching his own—would be undeniable proof.

Yet… he couldn’t quite rest easy.

He couldn’t help but wonder: if Hayden grew up and learned the truth—that he had killed his real father—would the boy come to hate him?

And if Hayden ever turned against him, Enria would too.

After all, Hayden was her only child—the only one she could ever have.

It had been a mistake, letting her conceive another man’s child… but one he swore he would never repeat.

Although, even calling it a mistake felt strange.

Enria had loved him—he was certain of that. She had loved him even when he sent her away from the Grand Duke’s castle for safety.

Her eyes had been filled with genuine affection, not deception.

So how could she have ended up bearing another man’s child—and one who shared his very power?

The thought reignited his curiosity about the man’s identity.

“Hayden.”

“Ddy.”

When Hayden responded to his call, Caldeon’s eyes widened slightly.

“You… just answered me?”

“Ddy.”

“Yes, that’s an answer.”

“Daddy-ddy.”

“You really are a clever one,” Caldeon said with a smile.

Then, the smile faded as he asked quietly, “Who is your father?”

Hayden replied,

“D-ddy, byo-o.”

***

After chatting with Roseanne for a while, Enria grew worried about what Hayden might be doing and went upstairs to the bedchamber floor.

Outside the door stood Chavel—alone.

Enria approached quickly.

“Where’s Hayden?”

“The Grand Duke was playing with him, but when Lord Hayden grew sleepy, His Grace took him to the bedroom to rest.”

Enria’s eyes widened slightly. She opened the door gently and stepped inside—

—and froze.

There, lying side by side on the bed, were Caldeon and Hayden, fast asleep.

Both were lying on their sides, facing each other.

Caldeon’s large hand rested protectively over Hayden’s little body, and Hayden’s small fingers still clutched lightly at Caldeon’s coat.

It seemed he had fallen asleep gripping it tightly and loosened his hold only after drifting into a deep sleep.

The sight made Enria’s lips curve into a warm smile.

They looked exactly like father and son—so alike it was almost painful to look at.

Her heart swelled with something too full to contain as she stepped closer to the bed and quietly sat beside them.

Leaning forward on one hand, she peered closer at their sleeping faces.

Even their soft breathing came in perfect unison, as though in rhythm.

Enria’s smile deepened as she looked down at the two of them—their resemblance so striking it was almost surreal.

After a long moment, her eyes fell on the high bridge of Caldeon’s nose, and without thinking, she reached out and lightly tapped it with her finger.

Caldeon’s brow furrowed faintly, and Enria quickly pulled her hand back.

His expression smoothed again, and soon his steady breathing returned.

Unable to help herself, she leaned closer again, studying his long lashes, his straight nose, his beautifully shaped lips.

He still looked too unreal—like a figure from a dream.

Wanting to reassure herself he was flesh and blood, Enria reached out again, this time brushing her fingertip gently along his smooth cheek.

The moment she did, her wrist was caught.

Startled, she tried to pull back, but his grip tightened—and suddenly, she was pulled forward, falling softly against his chest.

Caldeon’s hand came up, stroking her hair as he murmured in a low, sleep-heavy voice,

“What time is it?”

The deep, husky tone sent a tremor through her. She swallowed hard before answering.

“A little past three.”

“Mm.”

“You—should get up now. If Hayden sleeps too long, he won’t—”

“Just a little longer.”

Before she could finish, his large hand slid to the back of her neck, tracing slow, lazy circles.

Lying awkwardly against his chest, Enria felt her whole body grow hot at the touch.

Her lashes fluttered, and she focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.

But as his hand continued to stroke her nape, that steady rhythm began to quicken.

And Enria couldn’t tell anymore—whether it was Caldeon’s heartbeat racing… or her own.