Royal Bastard’s Bloodstained Regression
Chapter 120: A Mother’s Final Wish

Inside the carriage, silence lingered like a fog. Gabriel sat stiffly across from Daemon, occasionally glancing at him, eyes filled with unease. Daemon, as usual, stared out the window, unreadable.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Daemon finally asked, not turning his head.

Gabriel hesitated, then said, "It's just... your decisions are hard to read. Inviting Zaria to the theater? Really? That's not something I ever expected."

Daemon smirked. "You're still hung up on that?"

"Of course I am!" Gabriel snapped. "Brother, this isn't a game. I agreed because it's rare for us to spend time together like this, but bringing someone like Zaria—someone who can literally smite you where you sit—is beyond reckless."

Daemon shifted, finally facing him. "Relax. She won't do anything. She's a pure being, right? Killing me would stain her wings."

Gabriel leaned forward. "Daemon... you're the reincarnation of the Demon King. You think the laws of purity matter when they see you as a walking threat?"

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The wheels of the carriage clattered over the cobblestone road outside, filling the tense air between them.

Daemon looked down, then gave a small laugh—but there was no humor in it. "So that's what this is about."

"What?"

"You're scared," Daemon said. "Scared of what I am."

Gabriel's expression twisted. "No... I'm scared of losing you."

That answer made Daemon pause. He looked out the window again, his voice quieter this time. "You don't have to remind me what I am, Gabriel. I live with it every day."

Gabriel leaned back, ashamed. "I'm sorry, brother. I don't know what came over me."

"It's fine," Daemon said with a faint smile. "You care. That's more than most ever did."

"Seriously, you're impossible to read," Gabriel muttered, turning his head away.

Daemon didn't respond, but his silence was heavy. Deep down, he hated it—how Gabriel feared him. That fear was what led his brother to madness in their past life. Crowned as king, Gabriel had sent him on suicide missions masked as diplomacy, smiling while pushing him toward death. Pretending to care, all while setting him up to be discarded.

Daemon clenched his jaw. Thinking about it now only gave him a headache.

The carriage rolled to a stop at the palace gates. As it pulled aside and parked, the maids outside formed into neat rows.

Gabriel stepped out first, smiling like the perfect crown prince. Daemon followed a moment later, quieter, eyes scanning the courtyard.

Vexen greeted him with her usual fake warmth. "I hope you had a pleasant outing, my lord."

"Sure," Daemon replied curtly. She was here again. Always nearby lately. But more importantly—where was Nyxtriel?

Vexen, noticing the shift in his gaze, tilted her head innocently. "If you're looking for your companion... she's at her quarters."

Daemon narrowed his eyes. "Did you do something?"

"Not at all, your highness," she said, then covered her mouth in feigned surprise. "It was the Queen."

Daemon stopped walking. "Mother? She's back?"

"She returned this morning. Just after you left with Prince Gabriel," Vexen said with a too-sweet smile.

Ah, Bianca. He had almost forgotten she existed. In his past life, she was a snake behind silken robes—scheming, cruel, and ultimately irrelevant. Killing her now would be like stepping on a bug. No satisfaction. Better to let her live... and watch her squirm.

"I see," he muttered. "Then I'll head to my room."

As he turned to leave, he noticed Vexen and a few maids trailing him.

He glanced over his shoulder. She smiled again, too eager.

Was she just nosy—or did the Queen send her to keep tabs on him?

As they stepped into the palace, raised voices echoed from the upper floor.

"What's going on?" Daemon asked, his tone sharp.

He could hear the shouting clearly from the corridor—Gabriel and their mother, Bianca. Some maids stood still, pretending not to listen. Others leaned closer, eager for gossip but too scared to move.

Without waiting, Daemon ran up the stairs.

"Gabriel, listen to me!" Bianca shouted.

"No! You lied to me, and you're still trying to deny it!" Gabriel's voice cracked with anger.

Bianca reached for him. "Honey, please, don't believe what he said—"

Just then, Gabriel turned and saw Daemon approaching. His expression darkened further, and without a word, he brushed past Daemon and stormed down the hall.

Daemon watched him go, stunned. He had never seen Gabriel like that—furious, eyes full of betrayal. Something serious had happened.

He turned to Bianca. "Mother... what was that?"

Bianca gave him a tight smile, but her face quickly crumbled into something softer—sadder. "My son... I suppose I can't hide anything anymore."

"What happened? You can tell me."

She looked genuinely confused. "Wait... you mean he didn't say anything to you?"

Daemon shook his head. "No. Gabriel didn't tell me anything."

Bianca hesitated, eyes searching his face. Then she stepped closer and gently held his hands.

"Come with me, Daemon," she said softly. "We need to talk. Alone."

Daemon nodded, concern tightening in his chest.

"Alright, Mother. I'll come with you."

They walked together toward her private chambers, a quiet stretch of the palace that Daemon had rarely entered. As they stepped into the sitting room, she guided him to a cushioned couch tucked into the corner. It was the second time he'd ever been here.

They sat close—closer than he'd ever remembered. She reached out and gently took his hands in hers, looking him directly in the eyes. For the first time, she didn't seem like a queen or a stranger. She looked like a mother.

"Son," she asked quietly, "do you love your mother?"

Daemon didn't hesitate. "Yes, Mother. I love you."

He took her hand and rested it against his cheek.

She smiled faintly, but something flickered behind her expression.

"Would you do anything for me?"

"Yes," he said. "Anything."

Her smile vanished.

"Lies."

She stood abruptly, her voice rising.

"You don't love me. You hate me, don't you?"

Daemon stayed seated, his voice calm.

"I don't understand, Mother. Why would you think I hate the woman who gave birth to me?"

Her smirk returned—bitter this time.

"I'm glad you remember that I brought you into this world. But you're not a fool, Daemon. You must know I treated you differently than Gabriel."

He nodded slowly. "You were afraid of me... weren't you?"

She froze. "How did you know?" Her voice broke into a nervous laugh. "You are smart, my son. Too smart."

Then she sighed and sat back down beside him, her expression falling into something fragile.

"The truth is... from the moment you were born, I began having dreams—visions—of you... killing me. Over and over. I let the fear get to me. I let it control how I treated you."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Instead of loving you, I pushed you away. I saw you as something terrifying. I failed you."

Daemon stood slowly and took her hands again.

"Mother... don't say that. I didn't know it was like this. I'm the one who should be sorry... for making you live with that fear."

She shook her head, tears now falling freely.

"No, Daemon. It was never your fault. It was mine!"

And then she dropped to her knees.

"Forgive me!" she cried.

Daemon's eyes widened in shock.

"Mother, please stand up—"

"No!" she said, trembling. "If you can't forgive me, then I'll end it. I can't keep living with this guilt."

Daemon wrapped his arms around her gently.

"Please, Mother... don't say things like that. You're my mother, and I'll always love you."

She trembled in his arms, and he guided her back to the couch. She sat down slowly, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at her tears.

"Thank you for forgiving me, my son," she whispered.

"It's alright," Daemon said softly. "But... you still haven't told me what happened between you and Gabriel."

She hesitated. Her hands shook.

"The truth is..." she sobbed again, struggling to compose herself. "Your father... he told Gabriel that I'm not your biological mother."

Daemon's eyes widened. "What? Father told him that? But... is it true?"

Her gaze dropped. The silence was enough of an answer.

"It's... not completely a lie," she admitted.

She drew in a shaky breath before continuing, her voice low and filled with old wounds.

"Back then, your father and I had just married. Everything seemed perfect—until she arrived. A new maid. Her name was Rose. Your father became... obsessed with her. No matter what I said, how I tried to stop it, he wouldn't listen. I was powerless."

Daemon stayed silent, listening carefully.

"I went to the temple to pray for guidance, to seek answers," she said. "And I found them. Rose... she was part of a group who worshiped the demon king. The temple warned your father not to get involved, told him a prophecy would awaken if he continued. But he didn't care. He was in love. And she became pregnant."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she covered her face with trembling hands.

"That's why I drove her away. I thought... if I did that, everything would go back to normal."

The room was quiet for a moment. Then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

"It's not your fault," Daemon said, his voice steady.

She looked up in surprise. "You think so?"

"Yes," he nodded. "It was Father's choice. He abandoned reason. He hurt you. I... I think I understand now. I don't hate you anymore."

She smiled through her tears. "That's why... even if you weren't born of my body, I still see you as my son. I raised you, and I love you."

Then her tone shifted. Quiet... colder.

"That's why," she said slowly, "I need to ask you something. One last thing... as your mother."

"What is it?" Daemon asked, eyes narrowing.

She reached out, cupping his face in both hands, her voice almost a whisper.

"Son... I want you to kill your father for me."

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