A hug ??

Becky's eyes opened in surprise as her breath halted mid-air.

Father? It was an alien word for her. Her mother was a prostitute—someone who didn't even know when she got pregnant. By the time she realized it, the doctors said it was too late to have an abortion.

She was a mistake. That's what her mother called her—a mistake.

Becky grew up in hiding, forced to sit inside a closet until her mother finished her work. Her childhood passed quickly—or maybe it was just too empty, like a blank slate spinning endlessly inside a washing machine.

Now, everything was blurry. She didn't remember much from her childhood—only the pain etched deep into her soul. It was engraved like a permanent scar on her bones, irreplaceable and impossible to erase.

Her mother never let her go outside, fearing that having a child would reduce her market value—until that rainy day near the trash can. A day Becky could never forget.

Father? Who do people call a father? What does a father even do? Is it those men her mother knew?

Her mind swirled with too many thoughts, but she pushed them back—it was overwhelming. Yet right now, she needed to find words. Words that might save her from this...words that might, to her, had no meaning.

"It's...it's not like that," she uttered, her eyes flickering nervously around the room.

"Not like that?" Frederick said, his voice cold. "I'm still cleaning up the mess you caused last time. Do you even realize the value of your words?" He snapped, his eyes filled with rage. "Do you even know what you've done?"

The room fell silent. Everyone watched Frederick Augustine with bated breath. People said he never lost his composure—not even on the battlefield. But today, his voice echoed through the hall like a crack of thunder.

And no one had expected that the first person to hear his raised voice would be his daughter, Eli.

Seeing his fury, Nora stepped forward. "Why don't you listen to her first? I'm sure she must some reason —"

Frederick cut her off with a sharp gaze. "I love her more than anyone in this world, Nor," he said, voice heavy with restrained emotion. Each word hit like a weight no one but him could carry.

The room was shocked, but no one was more stunned than Becky. Her wide eyes were fixed on Frederick's face—as if she couldn't believe his words. Or maybe...she just didn't understand them.

Frederick continued, his voice harder. "But do you know what she's done? Because of her careless words, the royal palace hadn't sent a grain of rice to the border. The army there is made up mostly of northern soldiers who've been fighting for more than two years—without extra supplies."

He stood, his presence towering.

"Do you know how much supplies they had?" His sharp eyes locked on Becky. "Just Enough food for 30,000 soldiers for one year. And do you know how many they are?" He scoffed. "Of course you wouldn't know. You've never looked past your comfortable life. They were 50,000. They stretched that food for one year and nine months. And when they finally asked for more—because they couldn't even eat mud to survive"

He gestured toward the lavish table between them. "They're dying there...on empty stomachs. And here you stand, with a feast in front of you."

His breathing grew heavier, his broad shoulders rising and falling as his eyes softened just a fraction. "You never think about the consequences of your actions, love," he said, voice quieter but strained. He looked away, his jaw tightening. "And I know what you'll say now. Like always, you won't listen to a word from your father—"

Before he could finish, small arms wrapped around his chest.

"You...you need a hug," Becky said hesitantly, pressing her face against his chest. Her eyebrows drew together, as if she were confused by her own action.

The crowd gasped. Silent glances were exchanged. No one had ever seen anything like this.

Alex froze mid-motion, while Nora simply stared, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Becky's expression remained blank except for the nervous sweat dotting her forehead. Her eyes darted awkwardly across the room as she released him and stepped back.

And then she spoke words that no one ever expected to hear from Elizabeth Augustine.

"I...I'm sorry," she mumbled, scratching the back of her neck while keeping her gaze locked on Frederick's polished shoes.

The silence grew heavier. Becky didn't dare look up. Her heart raced as she anxiously debated whether it worked or not.

A large, warm hand settled on her shoulder, making her flinch.

Her eyes flew upward, meeting Frederick's gaze. His eyes glimmered, so glassy it looked like one more word might shatter his restraint.

He swallowed hard. "You're...sorry?" His voice, though deep, wavered slightly.

"It was my fault for not listening to you," she whispered. "If you forgive me this time...I promise I'll never—"

Before she could finish, Frederick bent down and wrapped his arms around her in a firm hug.

"Don't—don't lift her!" Nora said, voice laced with urgency.

Too late.

Becky was already hanging in the air, her feet dangling off the ground.

Nora sighed and palmed her forehead, softly shaking her head. "This man..." she muttered as a soft smile curved on her tace.

Alex stood nearby, lips parted, eyes unfocused. He looked as if he wanted to say something—but no words came out.

He wasn't the only one. Everyone in the hall seemed too stunned to process what had just happened.

"If you want to go," Frederick said softly, looking into Becky's eyes, "then I'll go with you."

Becky's eyes widened as relief washed over her. She nodded eagerly.

"Ahem...ahem." Nora coughed, breaking the moment.

"Oh." Frederick carefully placed Becky back on the ground, treating her like fragile glass. "Here you go." His stoic expression returned, though the warm spark that had momentarily lit his face disappeared.

Becky's gaze dropped to her arms. They still felt warm from the hug.

A...hug? Was that a hug?

The thought made her lips twitch into the faintest, almost invisible smile.