"Let's take a picture today."
"Mmmph...? A picture?"
"Didn't you say you wanted to see the baby?"
Clatter—
Aswin dropped his spoon and slapped both hands over his mouth.
"R-Really? I can see our Lis today?"
"Whose kid is Lis?"
"Our baby! It means 'cute grain of rice' in old Elunem language. Clarence and I first met at a table that had rice pudding on it..."
"Right. Sure. Fine. Finish eating so we can go."
He didn't bother asking who Clarence was.
Wasn't it obvious?
Probably the Crown Prince of whatever country it was called. Evian or something.
"No. I want to see it now."
Aswin declared that he couldn't bear waiting another second to see the portrait and jumped to his feet.
He immediately flung open the wardrobe and began pulling clothes out.
One outfit after another was held against his body, rejected, thrown onto the floor, then stuffed back into the closet.
"Aswin?"
"Yes!"
"What... exactly are you doing?"
Watching the steadily growing mountain of clothing on the floor, Kwon Minseong felt the corner of his mouth twitch.
There was no mechanical arm in the recovery room.
Ian and the other staff couldn't enter either.
Which meant there was only one person who would have to clean this up.
Him.
"I'm meeting Lis for the first time. I want to look nice. Which one is better? The left one? Or the right one?"
Completely oblivious, Aswin emptied nearly the entire wardrobe before holding up two identical red shirts and falling into deep contemplation.
"They're both red."
"They're different. The one on the left is slightly more orange, and the one on the right leans more toward pink."
They both look red.
Minseong shook his head while picking clothes up from the floor.
And it wasn't just the shirts.
No matter how many garments he gathered, all he saw was red.
It felt like harvesting wheat and discovering every stalk was the same color.
"Your brother wears blue. Do you only wear red?"
What was this?
Different political parties within the family?
"Hmm... I guess it's just a habit from childhood."
"You liked red when you were young?"
"No."
Aswin smiled.
"In the Imperial Family, only the Emperor of Elunem can wear blue. My brother was destined to become Emperor, so he wore blue. I wore red."
"Oh, come on..."
Minseong snorted.
"Listen. If blue is the color of emperors, red is the color of revolution. Who says only your brother gets to be Emperor? Overthrow him."
"Hmm... but I like my brother being Emperor."
"Yeah. Of course you do."
If someone still liked the man after having his life threatened, there was no helping him.
Not everyone was born carrying the seed of revolution.
Minseong hung the clothes neatly back in the wardrobe.
Aswin watched him curiously, then suddenly held one of the red shirts beneath Minseong's face.
"Huh...? Huh?"
"What?"
"Doctor... I never realized because you're always wearing a white coat, but red looks amazing on you! Here, take this one as a gift. We can wear matching shirts when we take the picture. It'll be fun. We'll look like twins."
"What exactly are we commemorating?"
Nothing would interfere with the Grand Duke and Kwon Minseong.
The moment they entered the examination room, Aswin began wandering around excitedly.
He poked Minseong's desk.
Looked into every corner he could find.
Minseong had never had younger cousins, but he imagined this was exactly what it felt like when relatives invaded during holidays.
Pressing two fingers against his forehead, he pointed toward the examination bed.
"See that bed over there?"
"Yes!"
"Would you like to lie down on it?"
"Yes, Doctor!"
Aswin obediently trotted over and lay flat on the bed, hugging the red shirt tightly against his chest.
"Let's put the shirt down for a minute."
"No."
"It'll only take a second."
"I'll just hold it."
That's exactly what I'm asking you not to do.
He was unbelievably stubborn.
Then again, patients were always like that.
Minseong squeezed his eyes shut.
"Fine."
I want to go home.
Even though I am home.
He rolled Aswin's sleepwear up to his chest.
Once the stomach was exposed, it didn't look eight weeks along, let alone twelve.
Long way to go.
A very long way.
When the hell is this baby supposed to make it all the way to nine months?
Automatically, Minseong squeezed a thin layer of gel onto the abdomen and pressed the scanner firmly against it.
Most pregnant patients became nervous at this stage.
Some were uncomfortable.
Some outright resisted.
Aswin simply stared at the device with sparkling eyes full of curiosity.
"Is this the portrait machine?"
"Yep."
"It draws Lis's face?"
"Something like that. Though we're probably not going to see much yet. It's still early, so we're mostly just confirming—"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The printer on the desk sounded.
The image had finished processing.
Minseong handed Aswin a towel to wipe away the gel and walked over to retrieve the printout.
He glanced down at it with the dead-eyed indifference of someone who had done this thousands of times.
It was as routine as brushing his teeth.
Or at least it should have been.
"...Aswin."
His normally bored voice trembled.
Cold sweat ran down his back.
Just like the day Tillio's sword had pierced his stomach.
How could I forget to ask the most important question?
I'm a disgrace to the profession.
"When did you sleep with the Crown Prince of Evian?"
"It's Debia, not Evian."
"Whatever! When?"
"Oh, Doctor..."
Aswin's cheeks reddened as he wiped the gel from his stomach.
"That's such an embarrassing thing to ask..."
He smiled shyly.
"It was... when my brother was away on campaign. About eight months ago."
Eight months made sense.
The fetus in the ultrasound image had distinct eyes, nose, and mouth.
It looked like something he would expect to see near full term.
"When my Heat Cycle didn't come, I secretly sneaked into Reiner's laboratory and used a pregnancy tester. It turned out I was pregnant."
His expression softened.
"An Alpha and Omega in love spent a cycle together, so I suppose it was only natural."
Then he lowered his gaze.
"But I was afraid my brother would find out, so I wrapped my stomach in bandages for a long time."
He laughed awkwardly.
"But even after several months, my stomach never grew."
There was a reason his abdomen remained flat despite being near term.
The mother had never been in a situation where he could relax.
The baby probably hadn't felt safe enough to grow freely either.
"Oh..."
Aswin stared at the image.
"Oh, gods above... Is this really Lis's portrait?"
His eyes immediately filled with tears.
"The nose looks like mine... and those plump lips are exactly like my darling's..."
He snatched the printout from Minseong's hands, kissed it, and blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling.
"What are you talking about..."
Minseong felt his own eyes sting.
"I'm the one who's grateful."
If the Grand Duke's delivery wasn't far away, then the hospital's revival wasn't far away either.
Patient and physician clutched their respective dreams while staring at the same image and imagining entirely different futures.
Then someone knocked on the front door.
It wasn't the staff returning from lunch.
Minseong felt a sudden wave of dread.
Quickly, he ushered Aswin toward the staircase.
"Hurry upstairs."
"Why? Did something happen?"
Aswin tilted his head, tears still lingering in his eyes.
Cute.
Infuriatingly cute.
Did he really need this explained?
"Nothing happened. Go upstairs and rest."
"Doctor, your face looks scary..."
"Want me to show you what scary really looks like?"
"The first portrait of Lis!"
Aswin beamed and held out the shirt.
Minseong recoiled from it as if it were spring-loaded.
"I hate red."
"Ehh... but..."
"And there's no need to change clothes. You're taking the picture in a patient gown anyway."
Aswin tugged at the long nightgown hanging down to his ankles.
For the first time, the perpetually cheerful young man pouted.
"But..."
"Hurry downstairs. Let's take the picture before lunch break ends."
Minseong finished putting the clothes away and headed out first.
Aswin looked between the wardrobe and Minseong's retreating back.
After several moments of indecision, he finally hugged the red shirt tightly to his chest and hurried after him.
Using the moving stairway, they quickly descended to the first floor.
The reception area felt empty.
Not just because there were no patients.
The cook had already gone home after preparing the day's meals.
The nurses had gone into town to enjoy an extended lunch.
Ian had been forcibly sent out as well.
Until two o'clock, when lunch break ended, there wasn't a single person left in the clinic.