Three.

Eirlys POV:

My heart nearly stopped dead in my chest. “What is that?” I whispered, staring at the glowing thing.

Rhydian looked up at me from where he knelt. “The Bloodstone.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” I said.

“You weren’t supposed to,” he replied simply. His gaze shifted toward the hallway where Auren was standing. “It only responds to descendants of House Drakhar.”

My stomach dropped like a rock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” he said quietly.

“I honestly do not,” I insisted, shaking my head. I wasn't lying. How was that even possible? No one in my family was a descendant of House Drakar.

His eyes came back to mine, steady and serious. “Where is the child’s father?”

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. “I don’t know.”

“When did you last see him?” he threw another question before I could catch a breath.

“Three years ago,” I said, my throat tight.

“What was his name?”

I was confused, but I still managed to answer. “…Kael.”

For the first time, the general’s expression actually changed, just a little. His jaw tightened. “Did he ever tell you his full name?” he asked.

“No.”

“Did he have this?” He reached into his pocket again, slowly and carefully, and pulled out a pendant. A silver wolf, just like the one I knew too well.

My breath caught in my throat.

I turned without thinking, ran back to my bedroom, and yanked out the old wooden box from under my bed. Inside, wrapped in faded cloth, was its exact twin, the pendant Kael had left behind.

My hands were shaking badly as I carried it back to the door and held it up.

The moment Rhydian saw it, every bit of that iron composure drained from his face. The terrifying general actually looked pale.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

“He left it.”

“When?”

“The night before he disappeared.”

Rhydian closed his eyes for a long moment, like he was silently counting to keep himself together.

When he opened them again, his voice had changed completely, softer, more careful, almost gentle. “What I’m about to tell you is going to sound unbelievable.”

“I don’t care about unbelievable anymore,” I said, my voice cracking.

He nodded once. “The man you knew wasn’t named Kael.” My heartbeat thundered in my ears instantly. “He is Kaelor Drakhar.”

The name didn’t mean anything to me at first. Until he spoke the next words.

“The Crown Prince of the Warlord Kingdom.” The general said. Everything inside me went completely numb. “He disappeared three years ago after an assassination attempt during a rogue attack. He was missing for sixty-eight days and was presumed dead.”

I shook my head so hard with every word he said, my vision blurred. “No. My kael wasn’t a prince. He fixed broken chairs. He hated mushrooms. He burned breakfast every single morning. He sang terribly off-key. He laughed whenever I stole his blankets in bed. He wasn’t…” My voice cracked. “He wasn’t royal. You must be mistaken because of the familiarity in the names.”

Rhydian said nothing. Because he knew. He looked so certain there was no mix up.

To him, Kaelor Drakhar was the future Alpha King. To me, he was simply the man who had held my hand while we watched fireflies, the man who kissed my forehead before falling asleep, the man who promised, “I’ll always find my way back to you.”

Tears stung my eyes. “If he’s alive… then why didn’t he come back?”

For the first time, General Rhydian looked uncertain. “I don’t know.”

I laughed bitterly. “No… You do know. If you’re here, if your soldiers found us… then he knew where to look.”

Silence. The answer was written all over his face. He had no explanation. No excuse.

Three years. Three birthdays. Three winters. Three years of my son asking why his daddy didn’t love him enough to come home.

I looked Rhydian straight in the eye. “Go back. Tell your prince that the woman he abandoned no longer needs him. We are perfectly fine on our own.” I said through my teeth before shutting the door.

Outside, the general remained standing in silence. Inside, I slid down the door and broke for the first time in three years. Because hope was infinitely more painful than grief.

The knocking started again. Not loud. Not impatient. Just… persistent.

I ignored it. If General Rhydian wanted to stand outside my cottage until winter came, that was his problem. I had more important things to worry about.

Auren.

He hadn’t spoken much since Rhydian left. He sat on the edge of his little bed, swinging his legs while staring at the wooden wolf in his hands.

I knelt in front of him. “Sweetheart?”

He looked up. “Was that man talking about Daddy?”

There it was. The question I’d been dreading. “…Yes.”

His eyes grew wide. “So Daddy is alive?”

My lips parted, but no words came at first. “I don’t know,” I whispered honestly.

Auren frowned. “He promised.”

“I know, baby.”

“He wouldn’t lie to me.”

My heart broke all over again. Children believed promises were forever. Adults knew better.

Auren suddenly climbed off the bed. “I want to meet him.”

“No.”

His little brows knitted together. “But—”

“No.” For the first time in his life, my voice came out sharper than I intended. His tiny shoulders jerked.

Instant regret hit me. I pulled him into my arms. “I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want anyone taking you away from me.”

His little hands wrapped around my neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Another knock came. I closed my eyes.

"Seriously? Did that man ever give up?" I almost let out a cuss word.

“I’ll be back.” I said to Auren then walked to the front door and yanked it open. “What?”

General Rhydian stood exactly where I’d left him, only now he was holding a basket. “I brought breakfast.”

I blinked. “What?”

He glanced at the basket. “You haven’t eaten.”

“…Excuse me?”

“My soldiers mentioned you skipped dinner yesterday.”

I stared at him. “You have soldiers spying on me?”

“They’re guarding the cottage.”

“I didn’t ask for guards.”

“No.” he said.

“You don’t get to decide what happens around my home.”

“No.” he said again.

“…Then why are they here?”

His expression remained calm. “Because if I’m right… your son might need protection.”

I folded my arms. “So your solution was bread?”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Bread.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

I looked into the basket. Fresh bread, honey, cheese, berries...still warm. My stomach betrayed me with a loud growl.

Rhydian pretended not to hear it. “I’ll leave it here.” He placed the basket beside the door, then turned around and walked back toward his soldiers without another word.

An hour later, the basket was still sitting outside untouched. I shouldn’t take it. It could be poisoned, drugged, some kind of trick. My stomach growled again.

“Oh, stop it,” I muttered to myself.

I cautiously picked up the basket. The bread smelled incredible. I carried it inside.

Auren’s face lit up. “Food!”

“Wash your hands first.”

He giggled and ran toward the basin. Children recovered from sadness far too quickly. Part of me envied him.

I had just sliced the bread when another knock echoed through the cottage.

I groaned. “What now?”

This time it wasn’t Rhydian. Three elderly women stood outside—the village elders. None of them smiled.

“Eirlys.”

“Elder Miriam.”

“We need to speak.”

I stepped outside, closing the door behind me. “What happened?”

Miriam sighed. “The General has made a request.”

I laughed bitterly. “Of course he has.”

“He wishes to remain in the village.”

“So?” I asked, dread in my stomach.

“So… he has offered enough money to feed every family here for the next ten years.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“The council accepted.”

“…Without asking me?” I almost snapped.

“It isn’t your decision.”

I stared at her. “You sold me?”

“No, we wouldn't do that, Eirlys” she said,

“You sold access to me and my son.” I finally snapped, the last thread gone. Silence. That was answer enough. Anger surged through me. “I won’t let strangers walk into my house.”

“No one asked you to. The General only requested permission to rent the abandoned mill.”

“The old mill?”

Miriam nodded. “He says he’ll stay until you agree to speak with him.”

I almost laughed. The abandoned mill was less than a two-minute walk from my cottage. Close enough to watch us every day. Far enough that he couldn’t be accused of trespassing. Smart. Annoyingly smart.

“He isn’t leaving, is he?”

“No.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Wonderful. The future Alpha King had sent the most patient man in the kingdom.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the mountains, Auren stood at the window. “Mama?”

“Yes?”

“The soldier is fixing the old mill.”

I looked outside. Sure enough, General Rhydian had removed his cloak and armor. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. He was carrying broken timber across one shoulder like it weighed nothing. No servants. No soldiers helping him. Just him hammering, sweeping, and repairing the collapsed roof with his own hands.

Auren watched with fascination. “He works hard.”

I crossed my arms. “He should.”

“Can I help—?”

“No.” I cut in.

****

“Mama.” I looked up from the bundle of lavender in my lap.

Auren stood by the table, hugging the empty wicker basket. His silver-gray eyes blinked hopefully. “We should give it back.”

I smiled faintly. “I don’t think the General is worried about one basket.”

“But you said people should always return what they borrow.”

I stared at him. Children had an annoying habit of remembering every lesson you wished they’d forget. “I did say that.”

He grinned. “Then let’s go.”

I sighed, tying the herbs together. “Fine. We return the basket, and we come straight home. No playing. No climbing trees.”

“What about—”

“No.”

He giggled and slipped his tiny hand into mine.

The abandoned mill was quieter than usual. The hammering had stopped. Only muffled voices drifted through the half-open door.

I slowed down.

“…You’re reopening the wound, Your Highness. How would you want to see her in this state you're in.” General Rhydian’s tone was clipped, almost irritated.

“I’ve had worse, Rhydian.” A second voice chuckled. Low, calm, warm. Something inside my chest tightened. Why did that voice sound... so familiar?