Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Flames consumed the once-beautiful temple as screams echoed through the halls before falling silent, coating the white marble floor in crimson blood.

Walking down the halls leisurely, the White Star stepped straight forward not minding the mess and chaos

He had only one goal in mind and it was behind the doors.

Beyond those doors was the bishop, trembling while hugging an item wrapped in a bundle of silks.

“Y-you devil! You will pay for the sins you committed and feel the wrath of the god of de–.”

A sword pierced into his throat, silencing his voice; only weak, ragged breaths came from the bishop's lips. His eyes quivered as they shifted toward the White Star.

He collapsed to the ground, gripping the bundle of silks that were slowly soaking up his blood. What was once a lovely pearl-white color was now becoming a deep shade of red.

“Fool, I am already cursed by your god,” the White Star mocked, swinging his sword to shake off the blood, staining the final room of the temple red.

Gods… how stupid. He would never fear them, the White Star didn't care how much he enraged the so-called god of death.

He was following his own goals, it didn't matter who or what was trying to stand in his way.

“Now the holy item...”

A holy artifact that might be a key to break the White Star's curse…

However, when he unraveled the silk, he found a tiny creature with red hair similar to his own—an infant instead of the expected holy artifact.

Dressed in frilly white clothes with an unnecessary amount of ribbons, sleeping peacefully while making small cute sounds.

“What…?”

The White Star stood in disbelief, glancing around the room for anything that could be the holy item. However, the room was nearly bare, with only a white crib in the middle.

He could not be mistaken; his resources were foolproof, and it was said to be a holy artifact, not just a mere infant boy.

“Tsk, whoever deceived me will pay with their life.”

The White Star glanced at the sleeping boy in his arms; he had no use for him, but something drew him to this boy.

Was it because he looked so similar to himself?

A fleeting question, he couldn't help but ask himself.

Yet he shook his head, the White Star had no time to ponder useless things. His heart had grown cold over the thousand years.

Everyone in this temple would meet their demise and that boy won't be an exception.

As he adjusted the infant's position in his arms, his hand brushed against the baby’s cheeks, and in that moment, the White Star realized the softness and warmth of the child.

After receiving the curse from the god of death, the White Star could not die; whenever eternal rest approached, the White Star would awaken in a new, unfamiliar body.

He was doomed to never feel the warmth of spring or the chill of winter.

If he ever held anything dear and precious, he was destined to lose it.

“Hahaha! How foolish of me. Why didn't I realize it sooner?”

A baby in the temple of the god of death? That is unheard of! The only plausible reason for this was that the boy was the death god's chosen saint.

“You are the divine object, mh? How unlucky but you will be of great use.”

Such an innocent being, peacefully sleeping without a care in the world. The White Star couldn’t help but think it was somewhat adorable.

As he stepped forward, his foot landed on the silk blanket the boy was wrapped in. Drenched in blood, the name 'Cassiel' was almost invisible, written upon it.

“It doesn't suit you at all, what a terrible taste.”

With those chubby cheeks, a big head, and tiny hands, that thing was far too fragile; just a little more pressure, and that precious saint would snap in half.

Cassiel…

The White Star poked one of the boy's cheeks. It felt soft and warm, a sensation the White Star had long forgotten.

He poked again and again and again.

The little boy frowned and let out a tiny noise of protest.

“Already showing attitude, mh?”

Before the White Star could continue his little game, the doors swung open showing Sayeru covered in blood and wearing a proud face.

“We left no one alive like co-”

However, he halted mid-sentence when he saw his liege holding a baby that looked just like him.

Wasn't their aim a divine item? Why was there no item but a baby?

‘It couldn't be…?!’

“If you value your life, you better keep that mouth shut.”

And Sayeru followed his liege's command; he didn't need to ask; the White Star's reaction alone provided sufficient proof for him.

For the first time, his liege had deceived him regarding their targets.

The White Star actually had a secret child.

Sayeru’s mind was filled with questions. He wondered why the church had taken his child and who could possibly be important enough to catch the attention of someone so powerful. Deep down, he knew that asking about it could put his life at risk.

“Why aren't the portals ready?”

His liege's voice echoed through the halls, cold and threatening. The mages immediately prepared a portal, their hand shivering, fearing they would get punished later.

“Sayeru, take the crib.”

“Yes, my liege?”

_____________________________

“...saint…your child…?”

Kim Rok Soo squirmed as he heard faint voices. He remembered falling asleep at some point while reading 'The Birth of a Hero.’

Today should be his day off. Did something happen already? But something felt off; usually, his phone would ring nonstop, and none of his teammates would dare to come into his apartment.

He slowly opened his eyes only to see an unfamiliar ceiling and a floating little plush star…?

Kim Rok Soo stretched out his hand, hoping to touch the star and discover if it was truly there or if he was just trapped in a vivid dream.

But he stopped once he saw a tiny hand that shouldn’t belong to him.

“Baah.”

Kim Rok Soo hadn't intended to make a sound. He meant to curse, but no matter how hard he tried, only high-pitched noises escaped his throat.

“Seems like someone is awake.”

The next thing Kim Rok Soo saw was a man with long white hair and very pale skin, almost like paper. He had pointed ears and striking deep purple eyes.

Certainly, Kim Rok Soo was trapped in a baby's body, so who was this person? Was it his father?

Why was Kim Rok Soo here, and how had he ended up in this situation? Had he worked himself to the point of exhaustion, leading to his actual death instead of simply falling asleep? Despite the absurdity of his circumstances, Kim Rok Soo remained surprisingly calm.

He didn't seem to mind; perhaps it was because he had nothing left in his previous life. He had no friends, no family, little money, and not even a goal to strive for.

Kim Rok Soo observed the white-haired man with curiosity. His clothing was lavish, elegant, and appeared expensive with his jewelry shimmering in the light; his hair was silky, and his skin was fair.

‘If this is my father then I struck gold.’

Being born into a super-rich family is not something Kim Rok Soo would complain about. No, he welcomed it with open arms.

Suddenly, the man chuckled, almost unable to suppress his laughter.

“Even his eyes are exactly like yours, your majesty.”

Wait, there were more people here, and this man wasn't his father?

“Are your genes strong or did you straight-up clone yourself?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Another man appeared, his hair a bright shade of red. He wore a simple white mask that covered the upper part of his face. Beneath the mask, his light brown eyes stood out, highlighting the tiredness etched around them.

His outfit was just as extravagant, but everything was out of order and mismatched.

The white-haired man appeared bright and cheerful, while the other was quite the opposite and carried a hint of danger.

When his eyes met Kim Rok Soo’s, he saw no light within them, a complete void.

The man's expression was empty as well.

“I brought you here to teach me how to handle that thing. Spare you unnecessary comments, Fredo.”

So that confirmed it, that emotionless man was Kim Rok Soo’s father.

Not a great start.

After his father's dry command, the white-haired man, whose name seemed to be Fredo, suddenly laughed. He couldn't contain his laughter this time.

“Look at him, he even has your deadpan expression. I shouldn't have doubted you, he is your son.”

“Your son will be fatherless if you continue.”

His father was also violent, which was not new to Kim Rok Soo; he would find a way to cope with it. He always did in his previous life, he can do it again.

Yet Fredo didn't mind the threat at all. Of course.

“Mind telling me the name of his little highness first, your majesty?”

There was a pause and a shift in Kim Rok Soo’s father's face; it was subtle, but Kim Rok Soo saw the twitch in his eyes.

“Should I rename him…something like Cael?” He mumbled enough for Kim Rok Soo to hear.

“Excuse me?”

“Haa…his name is Cassiel.”

‘What is with this man?’

Kim Rok Soo didn't know what to think of his father. He was certainly odd and a tad scary.

“Let's start with feeding. Do you know the last time he ate?”

“I don't.”

…

…

…

“This is going to be a lot of work…I will get a bottle.”

The door soon closed and Kim Rok Soo, now Cassiel, was left alone with his father.

That man stood close to the crib, utterly still. The only movement came from his eyes, scanning Cassil.

‘Is he waiting for me to do something?’

It was the perfect time to see if his father had a hard shell but a soft heart, so Cassiel did what any baby would do: be adorable and charming.

With his arms outstretched and eyes wide open, Cassiel tried to put on his cutest act.

“daaa.”

…

…

…

Cassiel waited for any sign of a reaction; even a slight shift in emotion would be enough.

“I like it more when you sleep.”

‘Are you made out of stone, you bastard?’

Chapter Text

“The bishop has been murdered and the saint is missing!”

A wave of fear spread through the grand temple of Huiss. News had just come in: everyone at the secretive place where the newborn saint was kept had been killed, and Cassiel was gone.

This hidden temple was small and carefully chosen by the bishop himself. He was worried that danger would come for the infant, but despite all his efforts to protect the saint, everything had fallen apart.

Barely a week had passed since their god gifted them with this beautiful child.

The priest vividly remembered the day their saint appeared, surrounded by a soft golden light that made it seem as though the god of death was cradling the baby in a gentle embrace.

They were entrusted with a small angel, and the priests had failed to protect that precious gift. Surely, the god of death must be enraged.

Amidst the chaos and grief stood Cage, her dark circles deeper than ever—not because the priests woke her up early in the morning. No, that was something they did every day, regardless of today's events.

It was the god of death's fault; he filled her ears with cries all night long.

She didn't care much about the bishop; that old fart made her work endlessly, even though she was barely seven years old.

The god of death didn’t care about him either; he was busy crying about Cassiel.

He talked about how the child had the power to change the world's future and be viewed as a hero. However, Cage was uncomfortable with this idea. She thought it was wrong to place such a huge burden on an infant.

That was a job for an adult.

Taking a deep breath, Cage returned to her duties. She had seen Cassiel only once, and he was adorable, but she wasn’t easily fooled by appearances.

This kid was going to become a brat.

Whoever had taken him would face a tough time.

However, it didn't mean she wouldn’t try to find out which bastard dared to take him, and once she discovered who had kidnapped him, she would make that person pay.

Cage already considered Cassiel as her little brother.

____________________________________.•°☆

“WHAAAAAAAAAA!”

Not long after Fredo left, Cassiel began to cry.

The crying was beyond Cassiel's control; however, he knew immediately that his sudden outburst was due to hunger.

Unfortunately, his father did not know the reason for his distress. When he heard Cassiel crying, his eyes widened in surprise, and he nearly covered his ears because the sound was so loud.

If Cassiel could stop, he would. The crying was making his throat hurt.

He hoped Fredo would return soon. His father wasn't much help at the moment; the White Star was simply standing there with his head slightly tilted and a confused expression on his face.

It didn't suit his father at all, but at least he was showing some emotion.

And another bonus: his father wasn't trying to hit him just because Cassiel was loud.

No, he was just a tad stupid when it came to babies.

‘And who is that?’

A few minutes ago another man had entered the room, it wasn't Fredo as Cassiel had hoped.

This new addition wasn't helpful either.

“My liege, the infant is crying.”

“Be useful, Sayeru.”

His father reached out his hands towards Cassiel, preparing to pick him up. However, Cassiel wailed in protest, slapping his father's hand away.

Though it could hardly be called a slap.

"Resorting to violence already?"

Yet the redhead hummed with satisfaction, studying Cassiel with curiosity, then chuckled in a dark, deep tone.

His dad was strange! Why was he so fascinated by being slapped?

Even Sayeru instinctively took a step back.

His father leaned in once more, this time to poke Cassiel on the cheek.

Again and again.

The constant poking didn't help stop Cassiel's crying; in fact, it only made it worse.

“My liege, I believe he might be hungry.”

Finally, Sayeru said something useful rather than just standing around like an idiot. Now all that was left was for Fredo to return with the bottle, and everything would be resolved.

However, Cassiel did not anticipate Sayeru's next words.

“Don't humans feed their infants with their breasts, don't you have ni–”

“Hold your tongue or I will cut it off.”

Luckily the White Star interrupted Sayeru before he could say more nonsense.

This time, his father quickly scooped Cassiel into his arms, ignoring his son's wailing.

Despite being an inexperienced father, his hold was steady and surprisingly gentle.

Cassiel wasn’t used to this kind of attention in his previous life as Kim Rok Soo. It felt strange yet comforting.

The embrace calmed his cries, reducing them to small sobs.

"First, you try to fight me, and once I pick you up, you almost melt into my embrace. You need to make up your mind, little one."

‘Blame the baby hormones.’

As Cassiel slowly calmed down, even though hunger still plagued his mind, the door swung open, revealing Fredo.

His cheerful expression changed when he saw the White Star holding Cassiel, his face becoming odd.

“I might never get used to the sight.”

“Don't waste your time and hand me the bottle.”

The White Star was becoming impatient; he needed to finish this. There were still piles of documents stacked on his desk.

“How about you sit down first, your majesty? It will be easier.”

Without saying anything, Cassiel's father sat down in the chair, which made a creaking sound as he did. He held Cassiel tightly in one arm, his grip strong but kind. With his other arm, he reached out in a way that seemed both relaxed and confident—his hand open and fingers bending slightly, silently demanding for the bottle.

The corners of Fredo's mouth twitched as he silently approached and placed the bottle in his liege's hand. However, instead of letting go, he gently guided the White Star’s hand.

Before the White Star could say anything, Fredo spoke up.

“It’s important to hold the bottle properly; otherwise, your little highness might choke.”

The White Star clicked his tongue, he let Fredo get away this time.

“He is so small and fragile. I almost think he might never grow bigger.”

"That's what all parents say. Your little highness will grow up in no time.”

The White Star scoffed, his gaze shifting to the supposed saint. Cassiel reached his arms out and kicked his legs in excitement.

His small mouth was already wide open, ready to receive his milk.

That thing was supposed to grow into an adult and have the ability to think for himself?

“Someone is impatient.”

Fredo moved the White Star's hand, and the White Star twitched at the first touch, suddenly feeling Fredo's cold hand.

He wished he had never experienced the vampire's touch, but now the White Star understood that the curse would completely disappear the moment he held Cassiel in his arms.

“Perfect, stay like this.”

Was that all he had to do? Just sitting down and staying in that position until his son finished the entire bottle?

Even though the White Star had never shown much interest, he had heard some things about parenthood—mostly parents complaining about how exhausting taking care of a child could be.

This didn't seem like a challenge at all.

Although it was boring, all his son did was try to hold the bottle and drink.

His appearance was rather ridiculous as well, with those puffy cheeks and big, sparkly round eyes. Fredo was completely mistaken; Cassiel only resembled the White Star because of his crimson hair and brown eyes.

He wasn’t an exact copy of him. Fredo's claim was absurd.

“I must confess…I didn't expect you would dress his highness in such an adorable way.” Fredo added as he took out a video recording device.

“He didn't.”

For some reason, Sayeru had answered instead of the White Star, the bear king had been unusually quiet today, but it was true—the White Star didn’t choose them. The clothes were laughable, frilly, and unnecessary.

It wasn't his taste in the slightest.

“Who picked them, then? His mother?”

White Star ignored the question. The saint's mother was most likely dead; they had left no one alive in the temple, and he was certain Cassiel's mother also resided there and was killed by his subordinates.

“Why are you recording this?”

The clothes didn’t matter to the White Star; he would much rather smack that recording device out of Fredo’s hand.

Surely that damned duke was taking advantage of the White Star’s inability to move.

“It is important to capture memories.”

Meanwhile, Cassiel listened to their conversation while slowly drinking his milk. He was about to close his eyes and possibly fall asleep, but he perked up at the mention of a mother.

His father, however, deliberately glossed over the details, leaving Cassiel with the unsettling understanding that she was likely deceased. It felt odd, too; no one seemed to be aware of his father’s lover or even the existence of Cassiel until now.

Cassiel couldn't shake off the disappointment of not having a mother, but he also wished for the situation to remain uncomplicated. After all, any hint of mystery could disrupt his future slacker life, and he wasn’t ready to trade that in for turmoil.

‘His father was enough.’

Though Cassiel wasn’t certain if he ever could get used to it. He never had the chance to call someone his father after all.

“Your majesty…you do have other clothes prepared, right?” Fredo asked with concern.

However, Cassiel believed that his father had extra clothes for him. After all, who wouldn’t get ready for their baby?

"I don't."

His father would.

‘Are you out of your mind?’

For some reason, Fredo didn't seem as surprised as Cassiel had expected, while Sayeru appeared even less so. Both wore unreadable expressions.

‘Are you still recording?’

The first moment captured of Cassiel and his father was him confirming he hadn't prepared shit for his child.

Yet his father appeared unbothered, something else occupied his mind instead.

"Are you even drinking, little one? The bottle still looks completely full."

Cassiel was drinking his milk at his own pace.

‘There are more important things, you punk! Let me drink my milk in peace.’

Chapter Text

As Fredo was falling apart, Cassiel sipped his milk and kept an eye on his father.

He figured that if he looked away, the problem would also go away. But the real issue was his dad, not Fredo rambling like someone out of control.

His father was also looking at Cassiel, his eyes wandered all over him till Cassiel heard a click of the tongue.

“So infuriating.”

‘You–! What a bastard.’

Unknown to Cassiel, the White Star was irritated because he somewhat understood the appeal of having a child.

The saint, whom he will call his son from now on, was annoyingly adorable. Not something White Star thought he would ever admit.

The way Cassiel continued kicking his legs even while drinking. His movements were strong enough to potentially knock off the ridiculously large ribbon tied around his head.

What could that saint do besides scream, cry, and eat? He seemed so small and fragile; just a tiny bit of pressure could easily cause him harm or even kill him.

Could that small creature become an adult? White Star wanted to call this nonsense. Could Cassiel even form thoughts? He doubted it.

Fredo, who heard the White Star's click of the tongue, turned back to him.

“My liege, did you plan anything?”

“No, I just got him. How should I prepare for that?”

Fredo raised an eyebrow, wondering what the White Star meant when he said he had just gotten the baby. It was clear that the child hadn’t been planned, and Fredo wasn’t really surprised by that.

However, he wouldn’t be shocked if the White Star had something up his sleeve regarding the situation. His liege wouldn't care for an infant just because he was his blood.

He even questioned whether the White Star truly cared for the people of his kingdom. To him, they were merely tools in one way or another.

Though what he saw was amusing: the White Star, notorious for his cold heart and blood-stained hands, was sitting there, cradling a baby. His hands shifted ever so slightly, as if he was afraid he wasn’t holding Cassil securely enough.

When Fredo was called and saw Cassiel, he almost slammed the door shut and pinched himself to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Nearby, Sayeru watched like a clueless fool, as though he had never seen a baby before. He was probably just as stunned as Fredo.

Who wouldn’t be? No one would expect their liege, the White Star, to have a baby.

“Were you just as cute as his little highness, your majesty?”

It was a foolish question that slipped out of Fredo's mouth. He already knew the answer anyway. The White Star was certainly not as adorable as Cassiel.

A thin cut opened across Fredo’s cheek, the sting following only after the dagger had already passed. He hadn’t even seen it coming. The White Star, clumsy as he looked while holding his son in one arm, still had no trouble launching a blade with deadly precision.

“Alright, I will get some old clothes I had for Naru.”

-

It took just over an hour for Cassiel to empty the bottle, which was enough time for Fredo to return and showcase all the clothes he had available.

“Naru was thrilled to hear the news about the prince. If you don't mind, he would love to visit the palace next time.”

The White Star didn't bother to answer; he was strangely exhausted. All he had done was sit and hold a bottle. It shouldn't compare to the experience of fighting each day and commanding his subordinates.

His hands felt stiff and sore. A dull pain spread across his lower back. He shifted in his chair, realizing his legs had gone numb, with a tingling feeling creeping through them like tiny needles. This discomfort was new to him; even during those long nights spent buried in paperwork, he had never felt this level of tiredness and unease.

He adjusted his seat and glanced down at his baby. A thin drop of milk clung to the corner of Cassiel’s mouth, his heavy eyelids fluttering as if he were about to drift back into sleep.

“Are you trying to waste my time, hm? You took over an hour.”

Was it White Star's imagination, or did Cassiel's cheeks seem rounder than before?

‘Not a very elegant saint.’

Suddenly, Fredo approached with his arms outstretched, unaware that the White Star pulled Cassiel closer to him.

“Your majesty, you need to burp him.”

“...I need what?”

Without saying a word, Fredo carefully shifted Cassiel and placed him gently over White Star's shoulder, where Cassiel's big head rested comfortably.

“It's simple, you pat his back until his little highness does a small burp. It's for digestion, you have to do it after every meal.”

The White Star did as told, and while doing so, his head turned to Sayeru.

“Why are you even here?”

“I have some reports from the underground, my liege.”

For the first time, the White Star didn't want to hear about it. He was about to tell Sayeru to just take care of the matters, but all of a sudden, he felt something wet on his shoulder.

Bluuuuur.

It was his son puking all over him.

“Ah…that usually happens when they drink too fast,” Fredo explained.

“He took over an hour.”

“For him, it was rushing.”

The White Star wanted to argue but felt vomit creeping through his clothes. He handed Cassiel to Fredo and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door.

“Don't worry, your little highness. Your father has been through worse, it's fine if you do it again.”

It sounded more like encouragement than reassurance.

Suddenly, the door swung open again, and White Star, this time without his shirt, approached Fredo and took Cassiel from his arms.

“You stink, better wash you as well.”

Yet before he could leave again, Fredo grabbed his shoulder.

“Your majesty, not so fast. There are a few things you need to keep in mind when washing his little highness.”

The White Star clicked his tongue in frustration; he wanted Fredo to explain things to him right away. But then, he felt a chill from the cold air touching his skin, making him shiver.

Cold? After a thousand years, it was a feeling he was not used to at all; it was almost like a strange experience for him.

He grabbed Fredo by his collar and dragged him to the bathroom.

“Should I wait here for the rep–” Sayeru asked, but before he could finish his question, he found himself alone in the office.

“Your majesty, no need to rush or drag me! It can't be that disgusting…it's only thrown up milk.”

Fredo had never experienced being pulled around like this by his liege before. The duke's teasing and jokes had been worse. Perhaps it was the milk or maybe it was just the challenges of being a father.

The White Star must have felt overwhelmed.

In the bathroom, the White Star stood before the tub, which was slowly filling with water. His cold gaze was fixed on Fredo.

“Now, then, explain.”

Cassiel blinked.

‘Wait… is he planning to go into the bath together?’

The thought alone made Cassiel squirm; he didn’t fully trust his father to hold him properly.

Fredo, however, remained steady. “First, we need to check the water temperature. It’s too low… honestly, it’s freezing.”

With a frown, the White Star adjusted the heat like Fredo instructed. He dipped the tip of his finger into the water and then immediately pulled it back. “Isn’t this too hot?”

“Not at all,” Fredo replied calmly, holding back laughter. “His little highness needs to be kept warm.”

The White Star made a low, dissatisfied grumble before reluctantly dipping his finger back into the water.

“Anything else?”

“Of course, you usually start with the face. After this, you wash his hair carefully, then you go to the upper arm…”

Cassiel’s eyes grew heavy as Fredo went on with his instructions. Cassiel found his father’s chest unexpectedly soft—cool to the touch, yet oddly comforting.

It felt… nice.

But Cassiel was stirred awake when he was returned to Fredo’s arms. The sudden shift made him blink sleepily.

His father, without hesitation, began to discard his pants. When the pants hit the floor, Fredo's gaze lingered for a moment longer than it should have.

“What?”

“I can see why the mother didn't make it…”

“OUT!”

Chapter Text

The bathroom exuded elegance, predominantly dressed in crisp white, while intricate golden accents shimmered in the light. Red jewels added a touch of opulence.

Splash splash splash.

As Kim Rok Soo, he rarely had time for a warm bath, especially as he got older.

He had almost forgotten how soothing a nice bath could be. His small hands and feet were kicking the water playfully, creating more bubbles and splashing water everywhere.

Normally, he wouldn't act this way, but for some reason, he found it enjoyable. It was simply a lot of fun.

‘I will just blame the baby brain.’

“Don’t move so much; it makes it harder to clean you.”

Cassiel ignored his father's words and continued what he was doing. The entire situation amused him.

His father's face was flushed red, the bathwater was way too hot for him, yet he remained in the tub with Cassiel.

“Hehehe,” Cassiel giggled.

Even though most of his emotions could be attributed to the baby's body, Cassiel genuinely felt happy.

‘Is this what it feels like to be a family?’

Not once did his father get angry.

“Are you laughing at me now, mmh?”

Cassiel couldn't help but laugh at him. The White Star looked absolutely ridiculous at that moment.

Not just because his face was red, but also because of the fluffy foam on his head—there was even a bit on his nose.

Cassiel felt a twinge of worry when he realized that he was not only the son of a wealthy noble but also the prince of a kingdom.

Back when Kim Rok Soo was reading various novels, whether they were romantic or had fantasy elements—he noticed that royal families were usually strict and cold. Many of their children often found themselves neglected and alone.

However, he wasn't safe yet. There were still chances of war breaking out or his father dying a tragic death.

‘He seems healthy.’

There is no need to worry about a deadly illness—for now.

For the first time in a while, Cassiel felt a twinge of contempt. He knew better than to let his guard down; he understood how dangerous a world filled with magic could be.

Suddenly, Cassiel was jolted. His father had finished bathing, and as he stood up, both of them felt a shiver and found themselves submerged in the water once more.

“Is this what ordinary humans experience? Such unbearable cold,” his father mumbled.

Cassiel wanted to ask what he meant by ‘ordinary humans.’ Surely, he had bathed multiple times before.

The White Star took a few deep breaths, then stood up again and stepped out of the tub.

But he soon encountered a new problem.

“How do I dress you?”

‘You don’t even know this?’

Fredo had laid out a new romper beforehand. It was much simpler than the one Cassiel had worn before, though it still had a few small ribbons.

The White Star took it in one hand and stared at it for a few moments before letting out a grumble.

—

“What is this?”

Instead of his office being cluttered with piles of documents and books that looked ready to topple over, everything is now neatly arranged on the shelves where it belongs.

His desk, on the other hand, is filled with toys, which adds a splash of color to the otherwise bright, white office.

White Star looked around and wondered if all these items really counted as toys. He recognized some familiar things, like a giant fluffy bunny that was much bigger than his son. There were also some small figures representing horses, cats, dragons, and a few dolls.

But what about the other objects? He saw some wooden blocks that he couldn't quite figure out; they were painted in bright colors and formed various shapes. Then there were those peculiar round things with a stick attached—those were colorful too. What were those meant for?

What was the purpose of the books? Surely, Cassiel couldn't read.

“Toys obviously, your majesty.”

Fredo picked up one of those strange round objects with a stick and approached the White Star, but his focus was on Cassiel. When he got close enough, he began to shake the object.

It immediately made odd noises, causing Cassiel’s eyes to widen. He extended his hands, shaking them in response.

“Ouuuh wooo.”

“What is this?”

The White Star was confused and uncertain about why the small saint was reacting to the simple sound of a rattle.

“A rattle, your majesty,” the duke explained.

He stopped shaking the rattle and put it in White Star's other hand, but he kept holding onto White Star's hand. Then, he started shaking it again.

White Star was so absorbed in what was happening that he didn’t notice what Fredo was doing.

“What is the purpose of this?”

“Stimulation and eye coordination, but more importantly, look how much his little highness enjoys it.”

Finally, the White Star noticed Fredo's touch and slapped his hand away. He glared at Fredo before taking a closer look at the rattle.

It had such an odd shape, bursting with a vibrant palette of colors that immediately caught the eye. To top it off, a charming little bunny was playfully sketched on it.

“And all those toys are necessary?”

Especially, why were they in his office? The palace had plenty of space, and now his chaotic mess was all cleaned up.

It may have looked messy, but it was White Star's chaos.

White Star wandered over to Sayeru, who, for some reason, was still there, holding a large bag. Those weren't more toys, were they?

“What are you holding?” he asked.

Instead of Sayeru answering, Fredo spoke up. He took the large bag and opened it.

“Diapers.”

“What?”

“Diapers. You know, since his little highness can't use the potty yet.”

There was a brief silence as White Star glanced back at his son, who was messy in his romper—some of the tied ribbons barely resembled ribbons at all.

“That creature can't poop by himself?”

“Well, he can’t go to the toilet. You'll need to clean him up afterwards as well– your majesty?!”

Suddenly the White Star stumbled, he almost fell if it wasn't for Fredo's quick reaction and reaching out to catch him.

“Your majesty, are you alright?”

White Star's vision was getting hazy, his eyes and body felt heavy, he was used to exhaustion and his body giving out but never to such an extent.

His curse didn't allow him to fall asleep and it had terrible side effects but living for a thousand years, he had learned to live with them.

So why suddenly–

But then it hit him. The saint!

That small thing was breaking the curse when White Star was holding him.

How troublesome but…

“I need some rest,” the White Star said.

Fredo and Sayeru froze, exchanging baffled looks. Neither of them had expected those words—of all the things their liege could have declared, this was not on the list.

Fredo opened his mouth and then closed it again, struggling to find a proper response. The White Star had committed countless outrageous acts before, but this... this was almost too ordinary.

“Should I take care of Cassiel until—”

“No,” the White Star interrupted. “I will take him with me.”

It almost touched Fredo and Sayeru; who would have thought their liege would hold someone in such high regard?

‘It makes me proud as a father myself.’

Perhaps Fredo had judged his liege too quickly. Maybe the White Star had found a new light in his life that could bring him joy.

“Don't worry, my liege. In the meantime, me and Sayeru will prepare the rest.”

Sayeru almost jumped as he was mentioned. Why was he dragged into this baby business?

“Ah yes..of course.”

Yet he didn't try to fight it. If he did his liege might rip his arm out or worse.

The White Star didn't pay more attention to their words. The longer he held Cassiel and the longer he didn't walk to his bedroom the more tired he got.

He pushed Fredo to the side.

After White Star closed the door and faced the huge white halls, did he realize; he didn't know where his bedroom was located.

The bedroom was only arranged and kept clean by servants to celebrate once White Star successfully broke the curse.

In all those years he never went there. The White Star didn't even recall what his chamber looked like.

Cassiel watched his father, standing still and looking around.

‘What is up with him?’

Shouldn't he go to his bedroom? Why was he standing around as if he didn't know his own hall?

Finally his father took his first steps however, he would stop for a few seconds, stare in different directions before continuing.

‘He actually doesn't know where to go?!’

Cassiel could somewhat understand why everything looked nearly identical. The vast white halls stretched endlessly, their brightness almost overwhelming. Gold engravings adorned the walls in intricate patterns, while a long red carpet guided the way forward. At every towering window, green plants stood like silent guardians, their leaves catching the sunlight.

However his father lived in the castle for years!

After what felt like ages, his father encountered servants who were scrubbing the floor with great effort. As the White Star drew closer, the servants straightened up and bowed deeply.

Their trembling bodies were unmistakable; none of them dared to speak.

“Where is my chamber?” the White Star asked calmly.

Both servants twitched at the question, exchanging nervous glances before one finally replied, “At the end of the hall, Your Majesty.”

The White Star clicked his tongue and walked past them without another word.

Once he was out of view, the servants stared down the hall before glancing back at each other.

“Have you noticed?”

“Was that a baby?”

Silence fell again as they looked toward the door where their king had disappeared, ensuring he wouldn’t return.

“The little one looks exactly like his majesty! Did you see that tiny yawn?” one servant squeaked, surprised by her own voice.

“Those tiny hands! I wonder what gender the baby is.”

“I just hope they stay this innocent. His Majesty is ruthless.”

They both recalled the last incident when a guard had angered their king. The guard had vanished without a trace; death was one of the more merciful punishments.

—

As Fredo brought in more items for Callis, his mind kept drifting back to the scene in the bath.

He was shocked. Surely, this was an inconvenience for his liege.

“Have you ever seen his majesty nak—”

“I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!”

Sayeru wanted to leave, but he still needed to report to the White Star. When would he be able to do that? What was going on?

‘Never had I been treated this way.’