Aiden stood before the door, staring at the polished wood, doing nothing but exhaling over and over, trying to steady himself. Duncan had gone on an errand. Now he had to face his past—meeting someone who could make his heart feel both full and hollow at the same time.

He placed a hand on his stomach and chest, drawing in another slow breath. Then, with a hesitant hand, he knocked three times and reached for the knob. The hinges creaked as he stepped inside. The door closed softly behind him.

At the far end of the room, a woman sat half-reclined on a sun chair, facing the window. Sunlight streamed through the tall panes, brushing her fair skin. Her legs rested on an old oak desk cluttered with papers, clearly not just scraps. Anna did not turn, not even after hearing the knock and the footsteps that entered her room.

Aiden cleared his throat—not to remark on his mother’s indecency, for he was already accustomed to it, but to moisten his dry throat.

“I’m home,” he said.

“Yes,” Anna replied coolly. Her voice still carried that blend of softness and sharpness.

Though used to her careless manner, Aiden could not dismiss his irritation. No matter what, she was far too nonchalant for someone who had exiled him for ten years and then summoned him home, only to treat him like this.

“You told me never to turn my back to the door,” Aiden said, half-mocking.

“Do you understand why I said that?” Anna asked, still not turning.

“‘So no one can stab you from behind,’” Aiden quoted her words.

“Would you stab me?”

“Of course not.” Aiden frowned, confused, feeling her questions circled endlessly. He asked, impatient, “What is it you actually want to say?”

“I could hear your breathing outside the door.”

The answer sounded absurd. How could anyone hear a breath so faint through the walls, let alone recognize it? But Aiden did not press. His mother often toyed with complicated words—just her way of speaking, along with the temper she could barely rein in.

Anna removed two slices of cucumber from her eyelids, lowered her feet from the desk, and rose. Her long blond hair spilled in tangles. From behind, her slim figure showed through a short slip and knee-length bottoms, the white fabric already yellowed. No one would believe she was a queen if they saw her like this. Yet one look at her face, and no one could deny her noble blood. Anna turned. Double-lidded eyes, small but full lips, and jewel-like blue eyes framed by a sharp face that demanded attention. She still looked as she had when raising little Aiden.

“When you stand before her, even if she annoys you, show respect.”

Aiden bowed, just as Duncan had advised.

“What are you doing?” Anna asked. “You needn’t bow to someone dressed only in underclothes.”

Aiden froze, awkward. Damn you, Duncan! he thought.

Anna cut in, “I think you didn’t study seriously at Altiora. Your thinking is immature. You’re slow to decide. And you still don’t understand the words I speak.”

Aiden tried not to be provoked—after all, he had only meant to show respect—though annoyance slipped into his voice. “Then why did you call me home?”

“Am I not allowed to see my own son?”

“You could have come to the dormitory.”

“So you’re comfortable there now?”

Aiden fell silent.

Anna stepped closer. “Ungrateful child.” She stopped a pace before him, her eyes sharp. “Before you protest, think whether your words will serve you—or strike you back instead.”

Aiden glanced aside, unwilling to meet her gaze. In that awkward stillness, Anna—so unexpectedly—shifted from a cold expression to a heart-melting smile, as if all the tension had been nothing but a joke.

“Welcome home, Aiden,” she said warmly. Raising a hand above his head, she added in a familiar tone, “My, how fast you’ve grown. You’re taller than me already.”

Aiden ignored her.

“Are you angry?”

“No.”

“Aha! You must be angry,” Anna teased. She pinched his cheeks affectionately. “My sulky baby!”

“Let go!” Aiden brushed her hand away, though inside he felt differently. “I’m not a child!”

“Not fun at all. Why have you been frowning all this time? Did Jim treat you poorly?”

Aiden sighed, then let out his frustration. “Not Duncan, but you. You’re the one acting immature. Sitting with your legs on the desk, greeting me in your underclothes, overacting, asking inconsistent questions. Before judging others, judge yourself first.” His words ended with his lips being pinched.

“Forgive me,” Anna said.

Aiden did not immediately accept the apology. Words alone were not enough to uproot wounds that had grown deep. Yet seeing her sincerity, her effort to lighten the mood, he smiled. He wanted to try reconciling, slowly. And besides, he preferred this warmth over stiff formalities.

“Duncan’s kind,” Aiden said. “But he teases, just like you.”

“Then listen to him.” Anna rested a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Aiden. I called you home because I want you to rest. I know life at Altiora hasn’t been easy for you. Ah, one more thing! I want to go on a date.”

“A date?” Aiden’s eyes widened. Ever since he was little, his mother had been single. He wanted no one—no one!—to come near her for any reason. He cried out, “Don’t tell me you have a lover!”

Anna rolled her eyes. “You’re young but think like an old man. And what if I did have a lover? Don’t you want me to be happy?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Anna lifted her son’s chin. “I don’t have a lover. No one dares court a queen. These days, a date doesn’t always mean romance. It can simply mean spending time with someone you love. I want a date with you—and you’ll come shopping for groceries with me.”

“Oh, that’s what you mean.” Aiden exhaled in relief. “But I don’t want to.”

“Is this how you show gratitude?” Anna huffed, walking to the wardrobe, ignoring his refusal. She took a coat and wool cap, then returned to him. “Wear these!”

“Come on, Mom. I just got here. The journey drained me.”

“What drained you? You only sat comfortably on a train. Your ass must be swollen from sitting too long.”

“I think I’m not feeling well.”

“No excuses!”

Anna pushed Aiden into the opposite room. Moments later, they were dressed alike. She clasped her son’s hand while Aiden carried an umbrella to shield them from the light snow falling.

On the road, Aiden stole glances at his mother, watching her. Something felt off. Their last meeting had left a bitter scar of disappointment deep inside him. Yet today everything seemed normal, as if nothing had happened. That smile, those gentle eyes—it was like the calm surface of a storming sea. Aiden grew curious, but the moment was too precious to spoil.

Sensing his gaze, Anna looked back and asked, “What is it?”

Aiden quickly brushed aside suspicion, smiling. “Nothing. You look beautiful today.”

“You’ve learned to flirt, I see.”

“I learned from the expert.”

They shared a smile.

“See? Isn’t this fun?” Anna asked.

“Better to sit by the fire with hot chocolate.”

“You’re such a sluggard. Enjoy the outdoors with me once in a while. Don’t be like your brother, always too busy with his affairs.”

Aiden’s mood darkened. Mention of his brother made him feel small. He wanted to ask, but hesitated. He and his brother were hardly close; their meetings could be counted on one hand.

At last he asked, “How is he?”

“He’s fine. Sometimes I worry, though—he’s almost always at the Palace, rarely comes home. He handles more than half my work, it must be exhausting. But don’t worry, your brother’s strong. Send him a letter now and then.”

“I will.”

Then Aiden grew quiet, remembering something he longed to know. “I want to ask... Back then I believed you when you said I was born without a father. But now I can’t accept that excuse anymore. Why are you hiding who he is?”

Anna froze, surprise flashing in her eyes. She drew a deep breath before answering. “It’s not that I want to hide it from you. I just don’t want to remember—those days. Please don’t ask me about him again.” Her voice was so faint it almost vanished.

She hid her face behind her long hair.

“Are you all right, Mom?” Aiden asked.

Anna appeared to wipe her face before looking back at him with cheer, speaking with her usual flippancy. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about your origins. You’re not a bastard.”

Behind her smile, Aiden saw her face wet with fresh tears—it was always like this whenever he asked about his father. Quickly, he changed the subject. “Why are you buying ingredients yourself? Duncan usually prepares everything.”

“Today I want to cook on my own.”

“But your cooking isn’t good.”

Anna pinched his lips—again. “Naughty boy.” Then she tugged his hand, quickening her pace. “Let’s hurry before it’s gone!”

They reached the market. The air reeked of fish and salt, mingling with the cold. People were too absorbed in their own business to notice the queen and prince among them—helped by the fact the mother and son dressed like everyone else, with hoods pulled low.

Anna stopped at a salmon stall, bent over, examining the fish as the woman vendor brushed snow from her table.

“How much do you want, miss?” the vendor asked, not looking at her customer.

“Was this salmon caught in the river?” Anna asked carefully.

“No. Caught at sea.”

“Proof?”

The vendor sighed, glancing at her briefly. “What a troublesome buyer.” She pointed at the fish. “Look! Bright color, firm texture. River salmon turns pale and mushy. Why? Their muscles strain harder when migrating upstream. Understand?”

“Understood,” Anna replied like a student before a lecturing teacher.

Aiden stifled a laugh.

“One kilogram, please,” said Anna.

“Ten Shorrel.”

Instead of a ten, Anna handed her a hundred-note, making the vendor grumble even more.

“This is too big, miss. I just opened my stall. No smaller change?”

“Sorry, no. Then just take the change.”

The vendor’s scowl shifted into delight. She looked more closely at her buyer, not just a lazy glance this time. Her brow furrowed, her eyes widening little by little as recognition dawned. Then she clamped her mouth shut. Realizing who stood before her, the woman quickly rose.

“No need for that,” Anna stopped her from kneeling.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.”

“It’s fine. In fact, I’m glad you explained about the fish. Not many sellers bother.”

The vendor grinned, proud and shy at once. She added extra salmon into Anna’s basket before handing it over. “For Your Majesty and—” Then she noticed the handsome man at Anna’s side, wondering silently.

“He’s my son,” Anna said.

“Prince... Elden, yes?”

“Aiden,” he corrected, answering the vendor’s mistake. “My name’s Aiden.”

“Aiden...” the vendor repeated, recalling. Suddenly she exclaimed, “Oh! You’re the Second Prince they always talk about! Forgive me for not recognizing you, my lord.”

“It’s all right. I hardly ever appear in public anyway.”

“I never thought I’d meet you here. You’ve grown, and so handsome like your mother. At first, I thought you two were a couple.”

“A couple?” Aiden glanced at his mom. “You mean I look that old?”

“No, no,” the vendor chuckled. “I mean, Her Majesty looks young.”

“I see.”

“May I have it now?” Anna cut in.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Anna took the basket, then clasped Aiden’s hand again. They went on in search of other goods.

“Don’t hold my hand like this,” Aiden muttered. “Aren’t you embarrassed they might think we’re a couple?”

“Better that than being recognized as queen and prince, right?”

Aiden nodded. “True enough.”

“And...” Anna gave him a mock-menacing look, “... what did you mean by ‘that old’? I’m only forty-two. Still young.”

“To me, that’s already old.” Aiden laughed. “Like Duncan. Soon you’ll have wrinkles.”

Anna tried to pinch his lips, but Aiden swatted her hand away.

“Not a third time,” he said.

Their warmth could not last forever. Without noticing, the sun had already dipped toward the horizon. They had gone many places, weaving back together a bond once frayed. Aiden learned something: how his mother won the people’s hearts—by becoming one of them, by understanding them, though truly, simplicity was her own nature. It was what he inherited. Now they walked home.

At a crossroads, Aiden started to turn right, but Anna suddenly tugged his hand left.

“Why not through Eastgarden?” Aiden asked. “It’s shorter.”

“I want to walk longer with you.”

“But it’s already late. I’m tired.”

Anna flared, gripping his hand harshly. Her glare was nothing like her playful chiding about age. “Don’t argue!” she commanded, almost threatening.

Aiden only furrowed his brow in confusion. Moments ago her demeanor had been gentle. Now she had shifted—just like when she left him at Altiora. Over a simple matter of which road to take, why such anger?

Still, he tried to shake off suspicion. Perhaps it was only the natural swing of a woman’s moods. Maybe Mom was on her period, he thought. Aiden obeyed, though her grip felt like the shackle of an iron ball and chain.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3: Meeting Someone