Chapter 109: The Queen’s Secret Lullaby

The moment Daemon stepped through the Solitary Gate, he appeared in the corridor of Queen Morwenna’s palace.

The gate closed behind him, leaving no trace of its existence.

For several seconds, Daemon stood motionless.

Then he slowly exhaled.

"Finally..."

His voice was barely audible.

Until now, he had endured the destruction at Winston Tower without showing the pain he had taken from Roxanna. His wives had already suffered enough worrying about him, and the last thing he wanted was to give them another reason to fear for his well-being.

So he had kept his suffering to himself.

But now, away from their eyes, he could no longer hold it back.

The pain came rushing through him.

Daemon’s knees buckled.

He reached for the wall, trying to steady himself, but his fingers scraped helplessly against the smooth stone.

It wasn’t simply physical pain.

He had accepted the accumulated suffering Roxanna had endured throughout her life, and now he was experiencing the terrible weight of it himself. Every wound, every moment of agony, every memory of helplessness seemed to press against his mind and body at once.

His breathing became ragged.

A sharp pain tore through his chest. His shoulders trembled, and his hands clenched so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms.

He tried to straighten his back.

He couldn’t.

"Urgh...!"

A strangled groan escaped his throat.

His vision blurred. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and his entire body shook as though he were fighting against an invisible force.

At Winston Tower, he had carried Roxanna without complaint. He had spoken to Victoria calmly, reassured her, and promised to return home safely.

He hadn’t wanted anyone to see him like this.

But the moment he was alone, the mask he had worn for their sake finally crumbled.

"How... did you endure all of this, Roxanna?"

His voice cracked.

He tried to take another step.

His legs gave way.

Daemon collapsed onto the palace floor, his consciousness slipping away before he could utter another word.

The corridor was relatively quiet, with only a few guards patrolling the palace.

One of them suddenly stopped.

"Did you hear that?"

His companion turned toward him.

"Hear what?"

"Someone screamed."

The guard immediately moved toward the source of the sound. His footsteps echoed through the corridor as he approached a corner.

Then he stopped abruptly.

A man lay on the floor.

"Hey!

The guard hurried forward, but before he could reach him, he recognized the unconscious man’s face.

His expression changed.

"Wait... isn’t this the man who visited Her Majesty before?"

He knelt beside Daemon and checked whether he was breathing.

Thankfully, he was still alive.

However, his condition looked terrible. His clothes were torn, bruises covered parts of his exposed body, and sweat dampened his hair.

The guard immediately called for assistance.

"Someone inform Her Majesty! Quickly!"

Within moments, the palace staff began moving.

And the news reached the queen.

Queen Morwenna was attending a meeting with several elders when a palace attendant hurried into the chamber.

"Your Majesty, please forgive the interruption!"

Morwenna raised her eyes from the reports on the table.

"What is it?"

"That human who visited the palace with his wives previously..." He has appeared in the palace and suddenly collapsed!"

Morwenna froze.

For a moment, she forgot the meeting entirely.

"Where is he?"

"In the corridor, Your Majesty. The guards are attending to him."

Morwenna rose immediately.

The elders exchanged surprised glances.

"Your Majesty," one of them began, "we haven’t finished discussing the situation along the Elorian border. The human forces have caused considerable trouble, and we must decide how to respond—"

"Continue the meeting. My daughter will attend in my place."

"But, Your Majesty—"

Morwenna turned toward the speaker.

Her expression was calm, but there was an unmistakable sharpness in her eyes.

"Is there anything more important than attending to an unconscious guest who may be seriously injured?"

The elder fell silent.

Another sighed quietly.

Ever since this mysterious man had begun appearing in the queen’s life, her priorities had become increasingly difficult for the elders to predict.

Some of them were clearly frustrated.

Morwenna didn’t care.

She left the chamber without another word.

As she hurried through the corridor, she muttered under her breath.

"Honestly, what is wrong with you, Daemon?"

Her pace quickened.

"Why do you always come here, collapse, and lose consciousness? And then, when you finally wake up, you leave without even telling me anything!"

She pressed her lips together.

"I sit here waiting like an idiot, wondering when you’ll come back.

Her voice softened for a moment.

"...You fool."

Despite her complaints, she walked even faster.

When Morwenna reached her chamber, two maids were waiting outside.

Both bowed simultaneously.

"Your Majesty."

"Where is he?"

"We have placed him on your bed, as you instructed."

Morwenna nodded and entered.

The moment she saw Daemon, her expression changed.

He was lying unconscious in the middle of her enormous bed, still wearing his torn shorts. His bare upper body was exposed, revealing several bruises and marks left by the ordeal he had endured.

Morwenna approached him slowly.

Her eyes moved across his body, examining his injuries.

Although some of the marks were already fading, she could tell that he had been through a terrible fight.

She sighed.

"Of course. You couldn’t possibly arrive here peacefully, could you?"

She sat beside him.

Her gaze lingered on his face.

For a moment, the irritation in her expression faded.

A faint smile appeared on her lips as an old memory surfaced in her mind.

And she remembered how, despite her complaints, she had always wanted him to stay a little longer.

"You always come to me when you’ve reached the end of your road," she whispered.

Her fingers gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.

"And somehow, I always end up taking care of you."

She shook her head, smiling to herself.

"I really am hopeless when it comes to you, aren’t I?"

Without thinking too much about it, Morwenna shifted closer to the headboard and carefully lifted Daemon’s head.

She settled him against her lap.

Then she began running her fingers through his hair, slowly and gently.

"There. At least let yourself rest for once."

Daemon didn’t respond.

His eyes remained closed, and his breathing was still uneven.

Morwenna continued stroking his hair.

Gradually, his body began to relax.

The tension in his forehead eased. His clenched hands loosened, and his breathing became slower and more regular.

The pain had not disappeared, but exhaustion was finally drawing him into a deeper sleep.

Morwenna watched his face.

A quiet warmth settled in her chest.

"There you go," she whispered.

She brushed his hair away from his eyes again.

For a while, she simply sat there, allowing him to rest against her.

Then, almost unconsciously, she began to hum.

It was a gentle melody, soft and flowing, like a lullaby carried on the evening breeze. The tune had an ancient, folk-like quality, with a simple rhythm that seemed to belong to a time long before the palace itself had been built.

Morwenna lowered her gaze toward Daemon.

"This is the one you like so much, isn’t it?"

Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.

She began singing the lullaby softly, letting the melody fill the quiet chamber.

The song spoke of a weary traveler finding his way home, of distant trees swaying beneath the moon, and of a place where even a wounded heart could finally rest.

It was a simple song, but there was a tenderness in the way Morwenna sang it.

She wasn’t singing to impress anyone.

She was singing for Daemon.

Her fingers continued moving gently through his hair as the melody flowed from her lips.

And as she sang, the tension that had remained in his sleeping face slowly disappeared.

His breathing settled into a steady rhythm.

Morwenna smiled.

"Sleep well, you troublesome man."

She simply held him close and let him rest.

The chamber door opened quietly.

"Mother, I—"

Zephyra stopped in the doorway.

Her words died before she could finish speaking.

Inside the room, her mother was sitting on the bed, gently stroking a daemon’s hair while he slept with his head resting on her lap.

And she was singing.

Zephyra knew that melody.

She had heard it countless times during her childhood, whenever her mother remembered her father and found herself longing for him.

It was her father’s favorite song.

Whenever Morwenna missed him, she would sing that very melody, sometimes quietly in her private chamber and sometimes while gazing out over the palace gardens.

Zephyra had always associated the song with her mother’s memories of the man she had loved.

But now, her mother was singing it to someone else.

"Her gaze returned to the sleeping man."

His clothes were torn, his body bore bruises, and his head rested comfortably on her mother’s lap. Morwenna’s fingers moved through his hair with a tenderness Zephyra had rarely witnessed.

She had seen many powerful and wealthy elven nobles attempt to approach her mother.

Some were handsome warriors. Others were influential nobles with vast fortunes and prestigious family names.

Several had openly expressed their desire to marry the queen.

Even the elders had repeatedly suggested that Morwenna consider remarrying, arguing that a queen should have a consort by her side.

She had rejected every proposal.

Every single one.

She had never allowed any of those men to get close enough to touch her, much less rest their heads on her lap while she caressed their hair.

Yet here she was, treating this mysterious man with a tenderness that seemed almost natural to her.

There was no sign of reluctance.

No forced smile.

No trace of the distant authority she usually wore before others.

Instead, Morwenna’s eyes softened with affection, and a genuine, peaceful smile graced her lips as she gently stroked Daemon’s hair.

Zephyra stood completely still.

Who is this man?

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him.

Why does Mother allow him to get so close to her?

Then another thought struck her.

And why does she look so happy when he’s around?

Zephyra had never seen her mother behave like this toward anyone.

Not even the men who had spent years trying to win her affection.

Her fingers tightened around the door handle.

She wanted to ask her mother who Daemon truly was to her, why he had returned to the palace, and why she was treating him with such unusual tenderness.

But the sight before her left her strangely hesitant.

Morwenna continued singing, completely unaware that her daughter was watching.

Her eyes rested on Daemon’s sleeping face, and a small, affectionate smile touched her lips.

She took one silent step into the room.

"And for the first time, Zephyra wondered whether her mother had a past she knew nothing about—a part of her life that had remained hidden from even her own daughter."