The news spread like wildfire, consuming the kingdom's whispers, corridors, and secret gatherings until there was no use in denying it any longer. The truth about the Crown Prince was out, irretrievable, unstoppable.
Mattias stood near the grand window of his study, his silhouette outlined against the pale morning light. His jaw tightened as he stared at the city below, where rumors now festered in the streets like an unchecked plague. Without turning, he finally spoke, his voice laced with quiet accusation.
"Are you happy now?"
Across the room, Olivia crossed her arms, her expression betraying nothing but irritation. "You speak as if I were the one who leaked the news. You know it wasn't me."
At last, Mattias turned to face her, his dark eyes glinting with something between frustration and resignation. "It doesn't matter." He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his tousled hair. "I knew this day would come sooner or later."
Olivia raised a brow, unimpressed. "So, is that why you summoned me at this ungodly hour? To place the blame at my feet?"
A bitter chuckle escaped him as he leaned against his desk. "No, Olivia. I called you here to witness the consequences of your endless demands. This one, in particular, is the most foolish of them all. And I was the fool who agreed to it."
She stiffened, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her sleeves. "Me? I never asked for a scandal! He is my brother, Mattias. Even if I don't favor him, he is still my blood. I would never betray my family."
His expression darkened, his gaze sharp as a blade. "No one doubts your loyalty to your family, Olivia," he said with a knowing smirk. "After all, we both remember what you did for your father."
For a fleeting moment, silence stretched between them. Olivia's breath hitched, but she masked it with an impassive stare. She would not let him use the past against her.
Mattias pushed himself off the desk, stepping closer. "So, Your Grace," he drawled mockingly, "since you insisted on preventing the divorce, what's your brilliant solution now? How do you plan to salvage this mess? Enlighten me—how do you propose to make both my sister and your brother happy?"
The weight of his words filled the space between them, heavy with challenge. Olivia remained silent for a long moment, then, with a slow inhale, she spoke.
"What if Leila were not a commoner?"
A flicker of surprise passed through his features. "What?"
She met his gaze directly. "What if she were adopted by a noble family? It could work."
Mattias considered the idea, his expression shifting from skepticism to intrigue. He stroked his chin in thought. "Hmm… Not a terrible plan. But it would have to be a family of the highest standing, one that even the imperial court wouldn't dare reduce to a mere concubine's lineage." He smirked suddenly, his eyes gleaming with purpose. "As it happens, I know just the person for the task."
Without another word, he strode toward his chair, snatched his coat, and threw it over his shoulders. Then, as if only now remembering her presence, he turned to Olivia and extended a hand.
"Are you coming?"
She blinked, caught off guard. "Me?"
He let out a dry laugh. "Yes, you. Is there anyone else in this room? Now, let's go. We have a future to rewrite."
For a moment, Olivia hesitated. Then, with a soft sigh, she stepped forward, slipping her arm into his. Whatever this plan entailed, one thing was certain—there was no turning back now.
The two stepped out of the room, their steps echoing lightly against the marble floors as they made their way toward Leila's chamber. A quiet tension hung between them, a shared understanding that what they were about to propose could change everything.
When they reached the door, Mattiheus raised his hand and knocked gently. Silence greeted them. He frowned slightly before calling out, "Excuse me, sister. I'm coming in."
Pushing the door open, they stepped inside, only to find the room empty.
"She must have gone to the garden or somewhere," Olivia murmured, glancing toward the window where a soft breeze rustled the curtains.
Just as she was about to turn away, a faint sound—barely more than a whisper—drifted through the quiet room. She paused, tilting her head. The sound came from the bed.
Frowning, Olivia stepped closer, her gown whispering against the floor. She leaned down and found the child lying there, small and fragile, her breaths soft and steady.
Mattiheus moved beside her, looking down at the girl with an unreadable expression. Then, unexpectedly, he murmured, "She looks so much like you."
Olivia blinked, caught off guard. "Really?" she asked, studying the girl delicate features. "Well, I am her aunt, after all."
She turned to Mattiheus, eyes glinting with curiosity. "By the way, have you ever held her before?"
His lips parted slightly as if to respond, but no words came. The hesitation in his eyes spoke louder than anything he could say.
Without waiting, Olivia bent down, carefully lifting the girl into her arms. The child stirred slightly, but did not wake. Turning back to him, she instructed, "Adjust your arms."
Mattiheus blinked. "What?"
"Just do it. Hurry."
Still bewildered, he repositioned his hands as she indicated. A moment later, Olivia gently placed the child into his embrace.
For a second, he simply stood there, as if the weight of the small girl had frozen him in place. Then, slowly, a warmth spread across his features, an unfamiliar but undeniable joy filling his expression.
Olivia watched him, entranced. The way he cradled the child, the gentleness in his usually guarded eyes—it was clear. He would make a wonderful father.
A soft, almost wistful smile crossed her lips as a distant memory surfaced. Before she even realized it, she whispered, "You'll be a great father."
Mattias, still enraptured by the child in his arms, barely registered her words before he responded instinctively, "You think so?" His voice held an unusual brightness, a quiet hopefulness that neither of them were used to hearing from him.
They remained like that, lost in the moment, playing with the child, as if, for a brief instant, she filled the voids they never spoke of.
Neither of them noticed the quiet presence at the door.
Standing just beyond the threshold were Leon, Isabella, Kyle, and Leila—watching, observing. Their gazes held something close to astonishment. It was the first time they had seen Mattiheus and Olivia together like this, smiling, laughing… like a real couple.
Then, as if sensing the weight of their stares, Mattias and Olivia turned sharply. Their expressions instantly shifted—warmth retreating, coldness settling back into place like a well-worn mask.
Mattias stepped forward, carefully handing the girl back to his sister. Then, straightening his posture, he cast a glance at the gathered group and spoke with quiet authority.
"Since you're all here, I have something to say. Sit down."
As the tension in the air thickened, each couple took their seats, their hands resting instinctively in their spouses'. There was an unspoken understanding that whatever was about to be discussed would not be simple.
Mattias leaned forward slightly, his gaze settling on Kyle with a sharp intensity.
"Kyle, your decision to remain here in the duchy and your stubborn refusal to claim your position as Crown Prince—it's nothing but cowardice. And you know it."
Kyle opened his mouth to protest, but Mattiheus lifted a hand, silencing him.
"Listen to me," he continued, his voice firm. "You need to return to the palace. I won't allow more rumors to tarnish my sister's reputation. We've found a way for you and Leila to be together, but the Empress will never accept it while you're hiding under my roof."
For a moment, Kyle's face was unreadable. Then, realization dawned, and he shot up from his seat, excitement flashing in his eyes.
"Truly? How do you plan to convince her?"
Silence hung in the room for a few beats before Mattias spoke again, his words slow and deliberate.
"I will ask the former Duchess to adopt Leila. That way, she will once again become a member of House Lucron."
A sharp intake of breath broke the stillness.
Leon was the first to react. "My mother?!" he exclaimed, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. Around the room, the others mirrored his sentiment, their gazes locked onto Mattias as if he had just uttered the impossible.
But none were as furious as Leila.
Her face darkened, anger flickering in her eyes like a brewing storm. "You expect me to become the daughter of the woman who destroyed my mother's life?" she asked coldly. Then, without waiting for a response, she turned toward Leon with a bitter smirk. "Forgive me, Leon."
Leon shrugged with little interest. "Whatever. You're forgiven."
Leila turned back to Mattias, her voice dripping with defiance. "I made my own choices when I married Kyle and when I had our child. Now, you expect me to bend to your will because you think you know what's best for me?"
Mattias' expression hardened. "You never asked for my opinion when you made those choices," he retorted, his voice like steel. "And yet, when I offer a way to fix the problems you created, suddenly, you don't like it? Fine. Do as you wish. Become a concubine. Or better yet, get a divorce. I don't care anymore."
His words struck like a whip. Leila flinched, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. Rage flared within her, an urge to storm out and leave them all behind. But before she could take a step, Olivia's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Lady Leila, sit down. We are not finished."
There was no warmth in her tone, only quiet authority. Leila hesitated, turning toward Olivia with wide, desperate eyes. "Did you not hear what he just said?"
Olivia met her gaze, unyielding. "I heard every word. But tell me—aren't some sacrifices necessary for love?" She tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "Besides, wasn't this title yours to begin with? Let's just say you're reclaiming what was always meant to be yours."
Leila's lips parted as if to argue, but she hesitated. A war waged inside her.
"You don't understand," she whispered. "That woman ruined my family."
A soft chuckle escaped Olivia, though there was no humor in it. She rested her chin on her hand, her gaze cool. "That woman wasn't married when she was with your father. He was the one who had a family. He was the one who made the choice to destroy it. People always blame the weaker party for corruption, while conveniently ignoring the sins of the powerful."
A heavy silence settled in the room. Leila stared at her, stunned. The words hit their mark, forcing her to reassemble the pieces of her long-held resentment.
Finally, after a long pause, she exhaled. "You may have a point," she admitted, her voice quieter now. Then, hesitantly, she glanced back at Mattiheus. "But how can you be sure she'll agree to adopt me?"
Mattias folded his arms. "We won't know until we try. I will speak with her today and see where things stand."
With that, he rose from his seat, signaling the end of the conversation. Without another word, he left the room, leaving the others to exchange uncertain glances.
No one spoke.
Because for the first time in a long time, there was something none of them could ignore—this plan might actually work.
With measured steps, Mattias ascended to the third floor, his pace steady but his thoughts anything but. As he reached the heavy wooden door, he raised his hand and knocked firmly.
Almost immediately, the door creaked open, revealing a hurried maid who had clearly rushed to answer. She gave a polite curtsy before stepping aside.
"Welcome, Your Grace. The Duchess is awake if you wish to speak with her."
Offering her a small smile, Mattias stepped inside.
The room was bathed in soft morning light, filtering through sheer curtains that swayed gently with the breeze. At the center, propped up against an array of embroidered pillows, sat the former Duchess.
Her once-raven-black hair, still silken, cascaded over her frail shoulders, contrasting against her pale skin. Silver eyes—sharp yet kind—met his gaze. Even in illness, even with the unmistakable pallor of time and hardship upon her face, her beauty remained undeniable.
As he approached, she smiled, a warm, knowing smile, and lifted a delicate hand to cup his cheek. Instinctively, he leaned into her touch, pressing his face lightly against her palm.
"How are you feeling, Mother?" His voice was softer now, carrying a thread of concern. "Are you any better? Has your health improved?"
She chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "You always ask about me, but it's you who looks exhausted, my dear. Have you been overworking yourself again?"
His lips quirked into a sheepish smile. "You always see through me."
"Of course I do. I'm your mother—did you forget?"
He straightened, adjusting his posture, and the playful ease in his expression faded into something more serious. Taking her frail hand in his, he clasped it gently but firmly.
"Mother, there is something I need to ask of you. I know you are aware of what's been happening in the palace recently."
Her silver eyes narrowed slightly. "Ah… this is about your sister, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Yes, exactly. I need your help. I want you to adopt her."
At that, she stiffened. Her fingers slipped from his grasp, and her voice—though still gentle—held a note of shock.
"Adopt her? Mattias, do you realize what you're saying?"
He exhaled, leaning forward slightly. "I know it sounds absurd, but this is the only way to secure her future. If she becomes part of a noble house, she will be recognized as a legitimate candidate for Crown Princess."
His mother's gaze drifted away, her expression conflicted.
"I have already taken enough from Talia," she murmured, almost to herself. "And now… you ask me to take her daughter as well?"
Mattiheus clenched his fists, understanding her hesitation. He had anticipated resistance, but he hadn't expected it to sting this much.
"Please, Mother. We have no other way."
She let out a slow, weary sigh. Then, after a moment of silence, she spoke—her voice steady and resolute.
"Then bring Talia to me."
His brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"I will only do this if Talia herself comes to me and asks it of her own free will. If she looks me in the eye and tells me she accepts this, then I will adopt Leila without hesitation."
He stared at her, stunned.
"You… you want Talia to agree to this?"
She met his gaze evenly. "Yes. That is my condition."
For a long moment, he remained silent, considering the weight of her words. Then, at last, he nodded.
"Very well. I will bring her to you."