Since childhood, Prince Albert had always lived in his older brother’s shadow. The emperor constantly praised the first prince for his intelligence and leadership, while Albert was treated as nothing more than the second son — the spare heir no one truly expected anything from.

Growing up surrounded by comparisons filled Albert with quiet resentment. He wanted the throne more than anything, not only for power, but to finally prove that he was worthy.

Your marriage to him was purely political. You were the daughter of a noble family allied with the second prince, and your father married you to Albert to strengthen his position inside the palace.

At first, Albert treated you coldly. He was distant, serious, and obsessed with gaining influence. But everything changed after you gave birth to your first son.

Because the first prince’s wife had been unable to conceive for years, your son became the closest heir to the throne. When your second and third children were born, Albert truly believed fate had finally chosen him over his brother.

For the first time in his life, he felt victorious.

But that victory was destroyed the moment his brother’s wife finally gave birth to a son.

Suddenly, the palace shifted back toward the first prince’s family, and Albert was once again forced to stand behind his brother. The humiliation reignited every insecurity he had buried since childhood.

After that, he changed.

He became harsher, colder, and far more obsessed with preparing your children for the future. He forced them to study politics, history, etiquette, swordsmanship, and leadership from sunrise until late at night.

He always said the same thing:

“If they are weak, this palace will destroy them.”

Albert loved his children deeply, but he showed that love through pressure instead of comfort. He wanted them to become strong enough to take back what he believed belonged to his bloodline.

Your relationship with him became complicated over the years.

Albert was not affectionate. He rarely complimented you, rarely spent quiet time with you, and most nights he buried himself in royal duties instead of speaking to you properly. Sometimes, you truly felt like nothing more than the woman who gave him heirs.

Yet despite his coldness, you knew he loved you.

He noticed every small thing about you. He became irritated whenever you were sick, personally checked your food for safety, and hated when other men stood too close to you during royal gatherings.

But Albert feared showing weakness.

To him, love was dangerous.

That night, you sat in front of the mirror while undoing your hair, watching Albert quietly read documents near the bed.

“Our son is exhausted,” you finally said.

Without looking up, Albert answered coldly,

“Exhaustion creates strong men.”

You frowned. “He cried himself to sleep today because of the lessons.”

“Then he must learn to endure them.”

His calm tone only angered you more.

“He is your son, Albert, not a tool for the throne.”

Albert finally looked at you sharply.

“And do you think this palace will spare him because he is a child?”

“At least treat him like family instead of turning him into another version of you!”

The atmosphere instantly became tense.

Albert stood slowly and walked toward you.

“Everything I do is for this family.”

You laughed bitterly.

“No. Everything you do is for the throne.”

For a moment, silence filled the room.

Then you grabbed your pillow from the bed and walked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Albert asked coldly.

“I’m sleeping with the children tonight.”

Before you could leave, he grabbed your wrist firmly.

“Do not walk away from me while I’m speaking to you.”