Chapter 143 The Drawing
The next morning, Theo sat at the small table in his playroom, surrounded by colored pencils and sheets of parchment. His nursemaid, Miss Clara, watched from her chair by the window, grateful the young prince had been found safely yesterday and seemed none the worse for his adventure.
Theo worked with intense concentration, his tongue poking out slightly as he drew. He'd been at it for over an hour, unusual for a three-year-old with the attention span of a butterfly.
A knock interrupted his focus. Lila entered carrying clean linens for the prince's chambers. She'd been assigned additional duties in the royal wing, a decision that raised eyebrows among the other servants but no one dared question.
"Aunt Lila!" Theo abandoned his drawing immediately, running to wrap his arms around her legs. "You came!"
"I'm just delivering linens, little one. I can't stay long." But Lila knelt to his level, unable to resist his enthusiasm. "What are you working on so intently?"
"A surprise! Come see!" Theo dragged her to the table. "I'm making a picture. For Papa. So he remembers."
"Remembers what?"
"Yesterday. In the garden. When we were all together and nobody was sad." Theo pointed to his drawing with pride.
Lila's breath caught.
The drawing was simple, done in a child's clumsy hand. But the meaning was unmistakable. Three figures stood in a garden surrounded by flowers. On the left, a tall figure with black hair. On the right, a smaller figure with red hair. In the middle, holding both their hands, a tiny figure with a huge smile.
Above each figure, Theo had carefully copied letters in his unsteady print. "Papa." "Aunt Lila." "Me."
"It's us," Theo explained unnecessarily. "Together. Like a family."
Lila's eyes burned. She blinked rapidly but tears escaped anyway. "Theo, this is beautiful."
"Why are you crying? Don't you like it?"
"I love it. Sometimes people cry when they love something very much." Lila touched the drawing gently, tracing the three connected figures. "Your father is going to treasure this."
"Will it make him happy? He's always so serious. I want him to smile more." Theo's small face was earnest. "Miss Clara says Papa used to smile before Mama died. I don't remember that. I want to see him smile."
"He'll smile again. I promise." Lila pulled Theo into a hug, holding him tight. "You're such a sweet boy. Your mother would be so proud of you."
"Do you think she can see me? From heaven?"
"I think she can. And I think she's smiling right now, watching you draw this beautiful picture."
Theo pulled back, his expression thoughtful. "Can she see you and Papa too?"
"Probably."
"Good. Then she knows Papa isn't alone anymore. That he has you to help him not be sad." Theo said it with such simple certainty. "That's important. Papa needs people to help him. He gets too sad by himself."
Lila's heart clenched. This child understood more than anyone gave him credit for. "You help him too, Theo. You're the most important person in his life."
"But he needs more than just me. He needs you." Theo picked up his drawing, studying it critically. "Do you think the flowers are good enough? I tried to make them look like the white roses in the garden."
"They're perfect."
Miss Clara cleared her throat from her corner. "Lady Lila, forgive me, but you should probably finish your duties. The head steward will be making rounds soon."
Lila nodded, standing. "I have to go now, Theo. But thank you for showing me your drawing. It's the most wonderful gift."
"It's not for you, it's for Papa. But you can look at it when he puts it in his study." Theo hugged her legs again. "Will you come back tomorrow?"
"If I can."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Lila left the playroom with tears still threatening. Behind her, Theo returned to his drawing, adding more flowers and a sun in the corner because the sun made people happy.
Hours later, after the evening meal, Theo carried his completed drawing through the palace corridors. Miss Clara followed, indulging his insistence on delivering it personally.
They found Adrian in the great hall, reviewing reports with Marcus and several council members. The King looked up as his son approached, his expression softening slightly.
"Theo. You should be preparing for bed."
"I have something for you first." Theo held up his drawing proudly. "I made it special. Look!"
Adrian took the parchment, his eyes scanning the simple figures. His expression froze.
Marcus leaned over to see. His scarred face registered surprise, then something that looked like approval.
"That's quite a drawing, little prince," Marcus said gently. "Did you do all of that yourself?"
"Yes! It's us. In the garden. Papa and me and Aunt Lila." Theo bounced on his toes, excited. "We're holding hands because we're together. Like a family."
The council members exchanged uncomfortable glances. Adrian's jaw clenched, but his hands were gentle as he held the drawing.
"It's very good, Theo. Thank you."
"You're supposed to put it somewhere you can see it. So you remember we don't have to be sad. We can be together and happy instead." Theo's logic was irrefutable in his mind. "Miss Clara says remembering happy things makes you feel better."
"Miss Clara is very wise." Adrian's voice was rough. "I'll put it somewhere safe. I promise."
"In your study? On the wall?"
"Yes. In my study."
Satisfied, Theo hugged his father's legs. "Good. Now you can look at it when you're working and remember yesterday. Remember that I love you. And Aunt Lila loves you. And we can all be together."
Adrian's hand trembled as he touched his son's hair. "How did you get so smart?"
"I'm three and a half!" Theo announced proudly. "That's almost grown up."
Despite himself, Adrian smiled. "Almost. Now go with Miss Clara. Get ready for bed. I'll come say goodnight soon."
"Will you bring the drawing to show me where you put it?"
"I will."
Theo skipped away with his nursemaid, already chattering about what drawing he'd make next. The council members returned to their discussion, carefully avoiding comment on the picture.
Marcus watched Adrian stare at the simple drawing, his expression unreadable.
"That's quite a statement from the young prince," Marcus said quietly when the others were distracted.
"He's three. He doesn't understand—"
"He understands exactly what matters. Family. Love. People taking care of each other." Marcus's voice was gentle. "Children see things more clearly than we do sometimes. They haven't learned to make things complicated yet."
Adrian's thumb traced the three figures holding hands. "This is dangerous. If the wrong people see this, if they realize how much Theo cares about Lila..."
"They'll use it against you. I know." Marcus sighed. "But you can't protect them by pushing them away forever. That's not protection. That's just a different kind of torture."
"What am I supposed to do? Openly claim Lila? Announce she's my mate? That puts a target on her back."
"That target already exists. Gerrit proved that with the poisoned sword. Aria proved it with the contaminated food. They know she matters to you, Adrian. Hiding it doesn't make her safer. It just makes you both miserable."
Adrian had no response. He rolled the drawing carefully, protecting it.
"Your son drew the future he wants," Marcus continued. "A future where his father is happy. Where the woman who's kind to him is part of their family. Where holding hands is simple and good." He paused. "Maybe you should consider giving him that future. Before it's too late."
Marcus left to check on the evening guard rotation. Adrian remained alone in the great hall, holding his son's drawing.
When the council finally dispersed, Adrian walked to his study. He closed the door, locked it, and stood in the silence.
Only then did he unroll the drawing again.
Three figures holding hands. Papa. Aunt Lila. Me.
Drawn with a child's innocent certainty that love was simple. That being together was the natural state of things. That happiness was just a choice away.
Adrian's carefully constructed walls cracked wider. He could feel them crumbling, piece by piece, unable to withstand the assault of his son's pure hope.
He'd built those walls to protect himself. To keep the pain contained. To make it possible to function day after day while bleeding from a bond that wouldn't sever.
But Theo's drawing showed him the truth. The walls weren't protecting him. They were suffocating him. Killing him slowly while he pretended to be strong.
Adrian sank into his chair, still holding the drawing. His other hand pressed against his chest where the bond pulsed, painful and persistent.
Four years. Four years of torture. Four years of cruelty he'd inflicted on himself and Lila because he thought it was necessary. Because he thought suffering was the price of keeping her safe.
But what if Marcus was right? What if pushing her away didn't make her safer? What if all it did was ensure they both suffered alone instead of supporting each other?
Adrian looked at the three figures again. Theo in the middle, connecting them. Innocent and hopeful and so certain that love was the answer to everything.
Maybe it was. Maybe love wasn't weakness. Maybe claiming his mate, protecting her openly instead of through cruel distance, was the stronger choice.
He didn't know. Couldn't see the path clearly. But sitting here in his study, holding his son's drawing of the family he desperately wanted, Adrian felt something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.
Hope.
He stood and found space on the wall directly across from his desk. Right where he'd see it every time he looked up from his work. He pinned the drawing carefully, making sure it was secure.
Three figures holding hands.
A family, a future.
A promise his son had made in colored pencil and hope.
Adrian stared at it for a long time. Then he left to say goodnight to Theo, to show him where the drawing now hung.
And for the first time in four years, when his son asked if they could all be together someday, Adrian didn't immediately say no.
He said, "Maybe. If we're brave enough. If we fight for it."
And Theo, three and a half years old and wise beyond his years, smiled and said, "We're brave, Papa. All of us. Even Aunt Lila. We just have to remember that."
Adrian kissed his son's forehead and left him to sleep.
But he carried Theo's words with him back to his study. Carried them to the drawing on the wall. Carried them through the long night as he tried to imagine a future where that simple picture could become reality.
It felt impossible. But then again, the bond itself had felt impossible. Surviving four years of bleeding had felt impossible. Lila remembering had felt impossible.
Yet here they were. Still standing. Still fighting. Still connected despite everything that had tried to tear them apart.
Maybe impossible was just another word for difficult.
And Adrian had never backed down from difficult before.
He wouldn't start now.
Not when his son had drawn him a map of what happiness could look like.
Not when Lila was remembering and fighting to reclaim what was stolen.
Not when the bond pulsed with desperate hope that maybe, finally, they could stop bleeding and start healing.
The drawing stayed on his wall. A reminder. A goal. A promise to a three-year-old boy who believed love was simple.
And slowly, painfully, Adrian began to believe it too.