In the Empress's quarters, Jasmine lay resting upon her bed.
Aerondor sat beside her, his expression softened in a way few had ever seen. They looked at one another, love and exhaustion mingling quietly between them.
Their history was not simple.
They had met through blood and fire, loved through chaos, and survived a rebellion that nearly erased everything they were. When Jasmine had turned cold after Lucien's disappearance, Aerondor had endured it in silence, never seeking comfort elsewhere, despite his status allowing him countless choices.
He had chosen only her.
"Aerondor…" Jasmine spoke softly, her gaze distant. "Lucien is our son."
"I know," Aerondor replied, his voice heavy. "No matter what memories he has, he is still our child."
She frowned slightly. "Then why did you question him like that?"
"What if he had been someone… dangerous?" Aerondor said quietly. "Someone evil."
"He's not," Jasmine replied immediately, her eyes sharp. "My son would never be."
"That's why I had to be sure," Aerondor answered calmly.
The Elysia Empire valued peace above all else. That peace had made them complacent. And complacency had nearly destroyed them.
Aerondor's father had died. His family in the capital had been slaughtered. Noble houses had betrayed them, using grief as an opening to strike.
Only two noble families had stood with the throne.
The rest had burned.
Aerondor had sent his infant son away that day, not knowing if he would ever see him again.
Now that the son had returned… changed.
And Aerondor had been afraid.
*
That night, Aerondor made a decision.
He needed to face his son, not as an Emperor, but as a father.
*
Lucien sat alone in the study, surrounded by towering shelves of books. His small hands rested on an open page, eyes scanning the unfamiliar script with focus far beyond his age.
I shouldn't disappoint them, he thought.
A knock sounded.
"Lucien…"
The voice was hesitant.
He looked up.
"Father?"
The door opened, and Aerondor stepped inside. He glanced at the shelves, then back at his son.
"You're still studying?"
"Yes."
"Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes."
The exchange faltered, words drying up between them.
Aerondor inhaled slowly.
"About earlier—"
"Can I speak?" Lucien interrupted suddenly.
Aerondor paused, then nodded. "Go ahead."
Lucien took a deep breath.
"In my previous life… I was alone," he said quietly. "I had no parents. No siblings. I lived by myself until the end."
His voice wavered.
"If you want me to leave, I will," he said, tears gathering in his eyes. "But… can I stay? Can I be part of this family?"
Tears slid down his cheeks as he looked up, eyes full of longing.
Aerondor dropped to one knee and placed his hands on Lucien's shoulders.
"You already are," he said firmly.
And for the first time, Lucien truly believed it.
*
The next morning arrived quietly.
Sunlight slipped through the tall palace windows, painting the marble corridors with soft gold. Lucien stood hesitantly outside his mother's chambers, his small hands clenched behind his back.
"Mother…?"
The door opened almost instantly.
"Lucien!" Jasmine's eyes widened in surprise, and in the next breath, her expression melted into unmistakable affection. She had honestly thought she wouldn't see him so soon. After everything that had happened, the emotions were still raw, still unsettled.
Lucien had asked his father for permission before coming. Aerondor hadn't refused, but neither had he agreed without hesitation. Matters of trust, especially matters involving the heart, were never resolved overnight.
Whether Aerondor would one day accept him without reservations… only time could answer that.
"Mother! How are you?" Lucien asked brightly, forcing himself to sound exactly like a three-year-old should.
Seeing her smile so genuinely made it easy.
"I missed you so much," Jasmine said softly. She bent down and opened her arms. "Come here, let Mother give you a kiss."
Lucien walked closer, and she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. The warmth of it lingered longer than the touch itself. He realized, with quiet relief, that nothing had changed between them. If anything, she seemed determined not to let a single crack form in their bond.
Watching her treat him exactly as she had before learning about his regained memories made something loosen in his chest.
They talked for a while, and Lucien carefully mentioned the conversation he'd had with his father the previous night.
Jasmine listened attentively, nodding.
"It's good that you spoke honestly," she said. "I'll only be able to stay by your side for a few more months. Before that, take this."
She placed a small amulet into his palm.
It shimmered with a deep purple glow, smooth and cool to the touch.
"What's this?" Lucien asked.
"It's an accessory that conceals Soul Forging cultivation," Jasmine said seriously. "Wear it at all times."
Lucien felt a surge of warmth at her concern, followed immediately by a delayed realization.
Wait…
If she had this the whole time—
Mother tricked me yesterday!
He resisted the urge to sigh and instead decided to retaliate in the only way a three-year-old prince could.
"Hehe," he said innocently, "Mother… am I getting a little monster?"
Jasmine blinked.
"…A monster?"
Then realization dawned.
"You little—" she laughed, pretending to glare at him. "How dare you call your sibling a monster?"
Before Lucien could react, his feet left the ground.
"Whoa— Mother?!" he yelped, flailing helplessly in the air.
Jasmine held him suspended with ease, her smile turning playful. "You've been far too obedient lately. I think it's time Mother taught you a lesson."
Lucien quickly realized what was happening.
She wasn't angry.
She just wanted to be close to him again.
He put on his most pitiful expression, eyes watery, lips trembling.
Jasmine hesitated.
For a split second, Lucien thought he had won.
Then she pulled him closer, flipped him over her knee—
"Eh?! Mother?!"
Slap!
"Ah!"
Slap! Slap! Slap!
His small backside burned as the sound echoed through the room.
"Arghh!"
The pain wasn't unbearable, but the humiliation absolutely was.
I miscalculated… terribly.
He had only ever seen her gentle side. He had forgotten one crucial detail.
She was still the Empress.
"Mother! I'm sorry!" Lucien cried out dramatically.
"You should've apologized earlier," Jasmine said smugly, though laughter sparkled in her eyes. "Looks like I'll need to teach you manners too."
"I obey, Your Majesty!" Lucien saluted with an exaggeratedly serious face.
Jasmine reached for him again.
Lucien screamed and bolted.
"Haha! You can't catch me!"
"Come back here!"
His laughter echoed down the corridor as he disappeared around a corner. Jasmine watched him go, a soft smile blooming on her face without her even realizing it.
*
Three months passed in warmth and laughter.
Jasmine and Lucien spent their days studying together, playing together, and simply enjoying one another's presence. When official tutors were assigned, Lucien treated them seriously, absorbing knowledge with frightening speed.
Many of the old imperial tutors were gone. Some had died with the Imperial Family. Others had been executed for siding with the rebels. The new tutors focused on history, geography, cultivation theory, and the realities of the world.
Jasmine, under imperial order, rested for the next six months.
Still, Lucien visited her almost daily.
In public, he acted like a normal child. In private, his parents allowed him to relax.
Behind closed doors, they sometimes laughed at how convincing his act was.
*
Six months later.
Aerondor paced back and forth outside the Empress's chambers, his expression rigid. Though reason told him nothing would go wrong, anxiety gnawed at him relentlessly.
"Father," Lucien said calmly, standing nearby. "Mother will be fine."
Aerondor nodded, though his tension didn't fade.
A sudden cry pierced the air.
Then another sound.
A baby's cry.
Aerondor rushed inside, Lucien close behind.
Jasmine lay on the bed, radiant despite her exhaustion. In her arms was a tiny newborn, red-faced and crying loudly.
Aerondor froze.
Lucien stared.
"It's a girl," Jasmine said softly, smiling.
Lucien felt his breath hitch.
"My… sister?"
Aerondor gently took the baby, staring down with awe.
"She looks like you," he said to Jasmine. "Like an angel."
Jasmine laughed. "Then I get to name her."
Aerondor groaned. "We agreed, didn't we…"
"Our little princess will be named Estella Crescent."
Aerondor nodded slowly. "A good name."
Lucien whispered it quietly to himself.
Estella Crescent.
*
A year passed.
Lucien began studying cultivation seriously. Though he had already reached the Nascent Soul Stage, he waited patiently. Children usually begin cultivating at five, sometimes later.
One afternoon in the castle library—
"Lucien," Jasmine called.
"Yes, Mother?" He looked up from his book.
"You know that no one cultivates Soul Forging before reaching the Revolving Core Stage," she said carefully. "At least, none that I've ever heard of."
"Yes," Lucien replied. "You've told me."
Jasmine smiled. "You're lucky. The Elysia Empire specializes in Soul Forging."
Lucien's eyes lit up. "Really?!"
"But don't get excited yet," she said calmly. "Soul Forging is the hardest of the three systems."
Her next words struck like thunder.
"Our manuals can only be cultivated after reaching Revolving Core."
Lucien froze.
"If you can't progress within a year," Jasmine continued, "you'll have to cultivate like everyone else."
Lucien stared blankly.
So my Nascent Soul Stage is… useless?
His legendary head start crumbled instantly.
His face twitched.
There went his genius arc.