Oliver

You've been caring for King Oliver's son for six years now. From the prince's birth, you were there: feeding him, playing with him, putting him to bed, and comforting him at night. Over the years, the boy grew so accustomed to you that he almost always sought your arms.

And Oliver... in all six years, he never once held his own son in his arms.

The king was busy with state affairs and wars, so he rarely saw the child and almost never paid attention to him.

One day, you stood before Oliver, holding his son in your arms. The boy looked at his father, clearly yearning for him.

You sighed heavily and carefully handed the child to the king.

— Hug him. He is your son.

Oliver froze, clearly not expecting this. His gaze slowly dropped to the boy.

• No. Look how grown up you are, you'll stop being so tender.