820  Chapter 819

Sean froze at those words, instinctively glancing at Amy.

For some reason, a strange thought crept into his mind.

He asked directly, “That woman—have you seen what she looks like?”

“Of course.”

Monbatten raised a curious brow. “How could I not know what she looks like?”

Sean blinked, slightly taken aback. “Oh, never mind, then.”

If he knew what she looked like, then it couldn’t be Amy’s mom.

He had successfully dodged the truth.

After chatting with Monbatten for a bit longer, Sean excused himself to mingle with other guests. The moment he walked away, the guard standing behind Monbatten couldn’t hold back. “Your Majesty, wasn’t that woman back then wearing a—”

Monbatten cut him off with a sharp look. “Even so, there were those eyes. If I saw them again, I’d recognize them instantly. They were… warm yet resolute.”

The guard quickly fell silent, never daring to question his king.

Monbatten’s jaw tightened as his gaze drifted off.

Back then, a much younger Monbatten had visited Crera for the first time. He was already engaged, his bride chosen, but at only twenty-five, he had no interest in marriage or children, so he’d delayed the wedding.

While in Crera, he had ventured out with just one guard. A night out at a bar took an unexpected turn.

Drugged by a stranger’s unsolicited offer, he had stumbled into a hotel, pushing away a woman trying to take advantage of him. His guard had gone off to find an antidote, leaving him to wander aimlessly until he mistakenly entered a private room.

The room smelled of something faint and floral—rosewater, perhaps.

Inside, a masked woman stepped toward him. Her voice was soft and captivating. “Do you need my help?”

Her eyes held an irresistible warmth and allure.

Monbatten had blurted out, “Are you sure about this?”

“I am.”

Without hesitation, she hooked her fingers around his tie, her movements full of sultry confidence as she led him deeper into the room. “You need a child, and so do I.”

Startled, he protested, “I’m only twenty-five! I don’t need a child!”

“You will,” she said with quiet conviction, her eyes filled with an unshakable determination.

Before he could process her words, she pushed him onto the bed, her intentions leaving no room for negotiation.

In the haze of passion, he had tried to remove her mask. She stopped him with a soft laugh. “Monbatten, if you can recognize me by my eyes, then we’re meant to be. If not, don’t bother looking for me.”

Her words stung his pride, and so, he never uncovered her face.

But her eyes—those eyes—he could never forget. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen in anyone else. That warmth, so embracing yet unaware of its own allure. That determination, as if she had burned every bridge behind her.

Not even the countless women in his harem could compare.

Over the years, he had tried to return to Crera to find her, but royal duties had kept him tied down. This year, the pressure to name an heir had become unbearable. Five years had passed since that night, and he still had no children. The advisors were in a panic.

Her words came back to him: “You’ll need a child.”

She had been right. He did need one now.

Monbatten took a deep sip of his drink and turned to his guard. “Do you think Crera actually has witches? Women with mystical powers?”

The guard replied thoughtfully, “Witches? Maybe you mean fairies?”

Monbatten let out a dry laugh. “…Are there fairies in Crera?”

The guard shrugged. “Hard to say. After all, science has its limits.”

Monbatten chuckled despite himself.

Officially, his trip to Crera was for medical treatment. Unofficially, it was to find her.

The woman’s eyes were burned into his memory, as vivid as her voice that night. He was certain—if she stood before him again, he would recognize her instantly.

If he had a child, it could only be hers.

Just then, Amy came bounding over, grabbing his hand. “Dad, what’s wrong? You keep sighing.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Who?”

“Maybe… the mother of my child.”

Amy grinned. “That’s just my mom, isn’t it? She’s right there!”

She pointed toward Keira.

Following her finger, Monbatten’s gaze landed on Keira. She had a unique presence, a cool confidence laced with pride.

Monbatten smiled faintly. “No, it’s not her.”

“But it’s—”

“Her eyes aren’t the same.”

Amy paused, tilting her head. “You’re right. Mom’s eyes weren’t always like this.”

That made Monbatten stop.

Amy added, “Mom used to be so gentle. She still is, but… but…”

She struggled to find the words, then tugged on his hand. “Dad, I’ll show you Mom’s old photos!”