I Fly

The soft, warm expression on Agatha's face made Reynand chuckle quietly. He'd always been known as the cold, ice prince, his ever-serious demeanor enough to make even Elara find him intimidating. 

This was the first time he'd been called pretty. Reynand was taken aback by how the innocent words of this three-year-old could make him laugh. 

It had been years since he'd laughed with such amusement—reminding him of four years ago, when Elara, in her innocence, had voiced her worries about serving him in bed.

Reynand resumed his walk, intent on guiding Agatha back to her chamber in Elara's quarters. He glanced at how Agatha quickened her short stride and smiled, then deliberately slowed, ensuring she wouldn't run or rush.

"How come I'm pretty?"

Agatha blinked rapidly. "Uhm… You smile nice. Uh…uhm… nice smile people awe pwetty."

Reynand smirked. "Well, you've got better eyes than your mother," he muttered under his breath. 

Agatha gasped and froze mid-step. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as if she'd seen a ghost. She clutched Reynand's thumb, halting him in his tracks.

She intended to pull him behind a wall for cover, but instead, she was the one tugged back, her small body barely shifting him. 

Panic flickered across her face as she looked up at him, her tiny fingers tightening around his thumb, tugging repeatedly as if her life depended on it.

Confusion swirled in Reynand's expression, but he relented and allowed her to lead. 

He could feel every desperate pull, every ounce of her strength urging him forward. 

Her fingers, though too small to fully encircle his thumb, never ceased their determined tug.

They were hiding behind the wall at the corridor's intersection. Agatha panted softly, still gripping Reynand's thumb as she peered out from behind the wall.

Reynand chuckled, "What—"

"Sssshhhhttt!!!" Before he could finish, Agatha pressed her index finger to her mouth in a silent command for quiet. "My nuwsemaid…" she pointed toward the far end of the corridor, where her nursemaid was walking worriedly, calling her name.

Following her pointing, Reynand tilted his head slightly to peek, mirroring Agatha's action.

"You afraid of your nursemaid?" he asked.

Agatha shook her head firmly. "NO! She tell mothel and… and mothel nag me."

"Your mother can nag?" Reynand asked, not believing that the timid Elara could scold a person. 

"Ugh… hm… she nag a lot." She turned to Reynand while puffing out her cheeks, scrunching her eyes and nose as if mimicking an angry face.

"She must be scary then?" 

"No no no no no!! Mothel is pwetty… If she nag, uhm… she sad… I naughty…" She pouted while frowning.

"You like to make trouble, don't you?" Reynand smirked, the memory of how Elara used to fear the head maid's scolding flashing in his mind. "Your mother will definitely nag you tomorrow." He teased Agatha playfully.

Agatha blinked, her pupils darting as she whimpered, "Uhm... uh... no tell mothel, pleaseee…" She bit and curled her lower lip in, her eyes soft and wide, like a just-born kitten searching for its mother. 

The loud sound of the nursemaid calling out her name made her peek out again.

Reynand chuckled, scratching his temple. He was amazed at how this little girl behaved older than her age. Was she a genius? 

But then again, she must've inherited her cleverness from him.

Her gentle grip from tiny palm on his thumb pulled him back to that day, four years ago, when Elara had dragged his arm to hide him in her chamber. 

He clenched his jaw and softly stroked Agatha's tiny fingers, lost in the memory.

The delicate pressure of those fragile fingers tightened his chest with an ache—how had he never known that such a fascinating little human carried his blood all this time?

Even though Elara never mentioned it in her letters, did it even make sense that no word of her pregnancy had reached his ears over these past four years?

Something must have gone wrong, and the feeble yet determined grip of Agatha spurred him to seek the truth.

Reynand knelt beside Agatha and leaned in to whisper,"Looks like I am indeed your father."

Agatha turned to him, her face lit with surprise. She blinked rapidly before a broad, delighted smile spread from ear to ear.

"Fahdel? my fahdel? wewlly really leally?" she asked, brimming with excitement.

"Hm… I am your father."

"Whoaaaaa!!" Agatha released his thumb and leapt with joy, clapping her hands. "I… I have fahdel now."

Reynand smiled bitterly to himself. The joy sparkling in her eyes causing him to lose his words for a second.

"Tomowlow… I… I tell Sena. I have fahdel too, like she." Agatha furrowed her brow suddenly and curled her lips in.

"Who is Sena?"

"Uhm… my fliend. She… uh… she fahdel olways pick flowelss… she happy… I am sad." Agatha's gaze fell, and a gentle frown creased her small face.

Her sad expression made Reynand furrow his brow and sigh heavily. No one knew better than he did how the lack of parental affection could weigh on a child's heart. 

And now, his own child was feeling the emotion he had buried long ago. He clenched his fist, as if ready to punch himself.

Reynand took a deep breath before bending down to lift Agatha into his arms. Agatha looked surprised by the sudden lift—her mouth fell open as she blinked, struggling to process the warm embrace of Reynand's large hands. 

Until now, only her mother and the nursemaid had dared to carry her like that, but Reynand's hold was both more comfortable and higher, making Agatha feel as though she were flying.

"Whoaaa…. I fly…" Agatha exclaimed excitedly, a broad grin spreading on her face as she giggled.

Reynand's steady steps carried them towards her room, and Agatha felt her little body bouncing with each stride, as if she were walking on air. 

She became so caught up in her delight that she forgot she was supposed to hide from the nursemaid, who stared in surprise at the sight of Reynand carrying her.

"Y—Your Grace…" the nursemaid murmured, bowing her head as Reynand passed by and entered Agatha's chamber.

With a firm grip, he set Agatha down on her bed, leaving her pouting in disappointment that she wasn't being carried a bit longer.

"Ah… I… I like up…" Agatha whimpered, lifting her arm and squeezing the air with her tiny fingers.

Her adorable mumbling and gesture sent a flutter through Reynand's heart, warming his chest. 

He couldn't help but soften his gaze as he gently caressed her small, tender palm before resting it at her side. 

Then he spread the blanket and ensured Agatha was snugly covered up to her neck.

"You like it when I carry you?" he asked.