Chapter 3

Edward walked in, his eyes still red.

"Mother," he called out, his voice thick with emotion, just like when he was a boy coming to me with his troubles.

I set down my teacup, not saying a word, my eyes fixed on his waist.

There, hanging from his belt, was the pouch I'd embroidered for him last year.

Ever since he was little, every personal item he carried was made by me. I never let anyone else touch them.

Edward always treasured the things I made for him, holding onto my care with deep respect.

He obediently unfastened the pouch and handed it to me, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

I ran my fingers over the stitches on the pouch and then took out the candy inside. I found something unusual.

This wasn't the pouch I'd made for Edward. Every pouch I embroidered for him had a hidden mark, Ed, stitched into the pattern.

Keeping my expression calm, I smiled and asked, "You're all grown up now. Still eating sweets?"

"You always told me not to eat too much candy. I did as you said. These are for you," Edward said.

"For me?" I echoed.

I've never been fond of sweets, and behind the scenes, I'd told the servants caring for Edward not to let him have too much candy. It'd ruin his teeth.

I personally chose every servant, so no one would dare disobey me. But Edward was clueless about all that.

Edward said, "When you were so ill and had to take bitter medicine for a whole month, candy was the only thing that made it bearable for you. So I got into the habit of keeping it.

"Mother, I can't bear to be apart from you."

I looked at his face. Those eyes and brows were like Henry's, but the nose and mouth were unmistakably mine.

If anyone tried to tell me he wasn't my son, I'd never believe it.

After I traveled back in time in my previous life, I investigated everything about my childbirth. No one had tampered with my baby back then.

Edward was truly the only son I carried for ten months and brought into this world through pain and hardship.

He'd always been such a well-behaved kid, never causing me any worries in his studies.

When he was five, he gave me a pendant he'd carved himself.

My heart ached seeing his little hands all scratched up, but he wrapped his arms around my neck.

In that soft, innocent voice, he said, "Mother, this is a longevity pendant. It only works if I carve it myself."

When he was eight, I fell seriously ill, and he stayed by my bedside day and night, watching over me and refusing to leave.

The moment I opened my eyes, he broke down in loud sobs, clinging to me and saying he was terrified he'd never see me again.

For a whole month after that, he showed up every single day, making sure I took every dose of medicine. Only when I was truly well did he finally let himself breathe easily.

He was always such a good son. I really couldn't understand when things started to change between us.

It felt like a heavy, wet blanket was pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I blinked back the tears stinging my eyes and gently held him.

"If you can't stand to be apart from me, why didn't you speak up in front of His Majesty earlier?" I asked.

Edward met my eyes, steady and sincere. "Father must have his reasons for making such a decision. I wouldn't dare to question him."

He was way sharper than I thought. He'd already realized that whether he was listed under Victoria or me, the ones who benefited were he and Henry.

"So, why are you here now?" I looked at him. "Are you hoping I'll talk to His Majesty?"

"No," Edward said urgently. "I'm just worried that you'll be upset. Even if they put me under Victoria's name, I'll always be your son, and I'll be devoted to you for my whole life."

That promise again. He said that in my first life, too.

And then, he fulfilled it with a rope around my neck.

"I see," I waved him off. "Don't stress about it. When you become the crown prince, I'll have a generous gift prepared for you."

The next day, I told Victoria about it, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Juliana, are you out of your mind? You want me to raise that ungrateful brat for you? Don't forget. If I die, you're done for too," she snapped.

I rolled my eyes. "What are you thinking? I protected him because he's my son. I only agreed because I thought he genuinely wanted you as his mother.

"But now that I know he'll wipe us out the moment he takes the throne, there's no way I'm letting him have his way."

Victoria looked baffled. "But he's the only son Henry has. Isn't he the only one who can be the next king?"

I arched an eyebrow. "Who says the crown prince is the only one who gets to succeed to the throne?"