Small hands, shaking with urgency, were lifted high, fingers splayed wide as if trying to cling to the void. Reaching for an unseen presence that taunted your vulnerability. A desperate cry erupted, primal and harsh, escaping from a throat far too tiny to hold such sorrow. The noise, brimming with fury and grief, resonated. Disbelief to fathom coming from such a diminutive form.

Tae-jo remained motionless, his expression gentle as he observed his little one navigate a whirlwind of feelings. As a King, he exuded authority, his very presence demanding reverence. His speech was typically incisive, straightforward, and intentional. He was perpetually analytical, his attitude resolute, occasionally bordering on harsh. He was accustomed to issuing commands, managing circumstances with a precision that allowed no uncertainty. Yet, not with you. Not in this moment.

He became everything a ruler should never be when he was with you. No longer the formidable king commanding armies or presiding over councils, he transformed into a gentle spirit who understood that true strength often resided in silently observing the turmoil and allowing it to unfold, rather than attempting to control it. The cause of the outburst was straightforward, yet it carried a significant weight — you were unable to accompany him to the neighboring kingdom. Rather than being held in his embrace and feeling his safeguarding presence, you would remain in the palace, encircled by your personal maids. Their warmth was unmistakable, but it could never compare to his.

As the cries gradually subsided, transforming into shaky sobs and soft breaths, a profound silence enveloped the space. He lowered himself to your height, moving slowly, ensuring he was near enough to offer comfort without causing you any more distress.

"My sweet baby," he spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The words lingered in the atmosphere like a soothing lullaby, a remedy for your aching soul. "Daddy will return as soon as possible. Promise."