Out of sheer boredom, Rosella wandered toward the lesser wing of the mansion, the quiet side, where footsteps were muffled and eyes didn't linger long. It had been weeks since the Baron left her in this gilded cage with nothing but maids who bowed too low and spoke too little.
She wasn't meant to be here, not on this side.
And yet, something pulled her.
Her slippers barely made a sound on the polished floors as she moved past sunlit corridors and faded tapestries until she stopped before an unmarked door. Faint giggles and the soft humming of a lullaby drifted from within. A nursery?
She hesitated, then gently pushed the door open.
Inside, a young maid, Asa, cradled a swaddled baby in her arms, rocking slowly by the window. Her posture stiffened the moment she saw her.
"You shouldn't be here, my Lady," Asa said sharply, protective arms drawing the child closer.
Rosella didn't flinch. She stepped inside anyway, gaze settling on the infant.
"I know," she said calmly, eyes unreadable. "But I wanted to see him."
Asa's fingers twitched.
"May I hold him?"
Asa's eyes narrowed slightly. "The Lord gave no such instruction."
"He doesn't have to know ," Rosella whispered. "I just... want to see him. That's all."
The baby, as if sensing the tension, gave a little yawn and curled his fingers toward her. Asa looked down at the tiny movement, then back at Rosella, and slowly — reluctantly, stepped forward.
Rosella took the child with careful hands, like he was made of glass. Her breath caught as his warm weight settled against her. For a long moment, she just stood there, silent, staring down at him.
Lady Sapphire child!! Her lips parted then pressed together. Something flickered in her gaze. Regrets? Pity? She couldn't tell.
"He looks nothing like her," she murmured.
"His eyes are hers," Asa said flatly.
Rosella smiled faintly. "Then may they never see a world as cruel as hers."
Rosella cradled the child gently in her arms, his weight surprisingly light, his warmth strangely grounding. He giggled, tiny fingers clutching at her hair as she brushed her fingers across his head.
"How old is he?" she asked softly.
Asa stood stiff by the side, arms crossed tightly. "Six moons, my lady."
Rosella's gaze lifted, curious. "Why are you the only one attending to him?"
The maid's jaw clenched. "Ever since my mistress was banished…" she paused, voice laced with quiet bitterness, "…no one dares come near him. No one wants to be seen caring for a traitor's son."
She didn't bother to hide the disdain from her tone.
Rosella's expression remained calm, unreadable. She stroked the boy's soft curls again, watching the small giggle that escaped his lips, his toothy grin flashing up at her like sunlight.
"From today henceforth," Rosella said firmly, "appoint other maids to care for the Lord's son. He is not to be left unattended again."
Asa blinked, surprised. "But… my lady, Milord did not permit me—"
"He's his son, is he not?" Rosella asked, voice firm.
Asa nodded reluctantly.
"Then treat him like one. Find him a proper room, warmer, with sun. He shouldn't be tucked away like shame."
She gently handed the child back into Asa's arms, her movements slow, almost reverent.
Without another word, Rosella turned to leave, her fingers unconsciously brushing her own belly as she walked away, silently praying for the safety of the child growing inside her.
***
Back in Hittities:
Queen Dalia lay draped on Aldo's chest, tangled sheets barely covering them. His breath warmed her ear as he whispered sweet nonsense, making her chuckle softly.
"You're too much, Aldo," she scolded playfully, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Only for you, my queen," he replied, the teasing gone from his face, replaced by something serious.
"You will attend the ball," she said firmly.
Aldo frowned. "With a room full of bloodsuckers? I'll pass."
"You don't have a choice," Dalia said, gripping his chin gently but with steel. "You'll go—and spice it up a bit. Imagine a mage in that room. It'll drive Isis mad. Especially when he realizes he's lost to me."
She laughed softly, leaning closer, voice a whisper thick with promise. "What do you say, partner?"
She said, her breath warm against his skin as she leaned in, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. Her lips brushed his slowly at first, then deepened into a fierce, hungry kiss that stole the air from the room. Every touch, every whisper between them was charged with a quiet intensity, a promise of shared secrets and reckless abandon beneath the tangled sheets. Aldo responded with equal fire, their bodies pressed tight, the world outside fading as only they existed in that stolen moment.
"Anything for you"