Chapter 2

So the man who had always treated me with polite distance, never once stepping out of line, had long ago, behind my back, become completely devoted to another woman.

She led me into one of the tents.

"Oh, right—I'm Chloe Xyler. Just call me Chloe."

She poured me a cup of hot tea with warm enthusiasm.

I took a sip, my eyes sweeping across the inside of the tent.

Outside, the wind howled and snow lashed the ground. Inside, a brazier burned steadily, filling the space with a warmth that felt like spring.

A painting rested on the table. The figure in it was Chloe.

In the lower right corner, the signature read: "Liam Foster."

I stared at those two words like I could burn a hole right through them.

Ten years of marriage, and I had never known Liam could paint.

On the rare occasions I showed him my embroidery I'd stitched with care, he would only smile faintly.

"I'm a rough man. I don't understand these things. If you think it's good, Princess, then it must be good."

Chloe walked over, smiling as she said, "A few days ago, I begged Liam to teach me how to paint. I'm a slow learner—I just can't seem to get it right."

She rolled up the painting and slipped it into a paper tube by the desk. The tube was already stuffed full, big and small scrolls packed tightly together.

I took another sip of tea. It tasted bitter.

My gaze drifted lower, landing on the side of the bed, where a pair of training shoes sat.

But the size… those clearly belonged to a child.

My fingertips trembled. I was about to speak when a sharp, urgent cry of "Mom!" cut me off.

A young boy burst into the tent, sniffling, holding up an injured hand for her to see.

His skin was fair. And when he turned his head, his brows and eyes—so strikingly similar to Liam's—came into full view.

After bandaging his finger, Chloe gently patted his head.

"Please don't mind him. He's just like his father—always messing around with weapons and coming back covered in cuts. Before this, it was always his father who treated his wounds. I've never had to do it myself, so I was a little clumsy."

I steadied the teacup in my hands and said,

"Your husband seems very attentive to your son."

At the mention of her son, Chloe lit up, the words spilling out one after another.

"Yes, Liam actually loves children. On our wedding night, he even asked if I wanted one.

"After our son was born, he was the one who cared about every little thing—food, clothes, everything. Last year, our son said he wanted a particular candy, and Liam rode ten miles to the nearest town just to buy some.

"And the weapons our son plays with now—Liam had them specially made to fit a child's hands."

As she spoke, the boy nodded along eagerly.

"My dad is the best dad in the world!"

I looked at him, my throat tight like it was stuffed with cotton.

Ten years ago, when I first married Liam, I had wanted a child with him.

He had fallen silent for a long time before gently stroking my hair.

"These past few years, I've been fighting battles everywhere. If you were pregnant, I wouldn't be able to take care of you. Once the war ends, I'll ask the King to let me resign. Then we'll have a child—a beautiful one—and live peacefully as a family."

Ten years had passed.

The war had not ended.

But he had already fathered a child with another woman.

I couldn't help but ask, "How… old are you?"

The boy looked at me, his face bright and full of life.

When he smiled, a little dimple showed.

"I'm nine! Dad says I grow fast. I already look like I'm ten or eleven."

Ten years away from home—and a nine-year-old child waiting here.

So every solemn promise Liam had ever made to me… had been a lie.

I hid my trembling fingers under my sleeve and forced out a sigh.

"You and your son followed your husband to live in this northern land—it must have been hard on you."

But Chloe shook her head.

"I was born here in the north. It's not hardship for me. It's Liam—he's not suited to this climate, but he insists on staying here with us."

As I listened, a faint sense of dread crept into my chest.

The next moment, Chloe smiled and said, "Actually, the war here ended a long time ago. Liam stayed behind for our sake—he specifically asked to remain in the north.

"I heard he had to beg for a long time to convince the King. It really wasn't easy for him.

"He said once he finishes up some business with the court, our family will settle down in a nearby town… and never go back."

The teacup slipped from my hands and shattered on the ground. Shards of porcelain sliced into my skin.