Even though Elise had guessed the reason, the truth still needed Naya’s own admission to be confirmed.

Naya had truly, undeniably regained her memories.

Yet the way she proved it revealed genuine emotion—otherwise, faced with such humiliation, she would’ve surrendered earlier instead of waiting until she couldn’t bear it.

Perhaps Naya thought it was just a fleeting thrill… never expecting Elise to be this ruthless.

“So… what’s your plan now that your memories are back?”

“Plan? Plan… I don’t know. I’m so confused. Am I the Chosen Hero of humankind… or the Dragonkin’s consort? I just… don’t understand…”

“Would you use Eliya to threaten me?”

At Eliya’s name, Naya instantly straightened up.

Fury flared at Elise’s suspicion.

Summoning her last strength, she shoved Elise away, braced her hands on the floor, and glared up fiercely.

“How could I *ever* use Eliya? She’s my daughter! Do you really think humans are so irredeemable? Listen, Elise—even if I fight you, I’ll do it honorably. I’d never use Eliya. And I’ll *never* let her know about our past.”

“…”

Elise fell silent.

She’d judged the restored Naya through her own wary lens.

*Even a tiger protects its cub.*

No matter how sharp Naya’s words, she’d never harm Eliya.

But how could she be blamed? So many sought her life—paranoia had seeped deep.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted your love for Eliya.”

The apology only deepened Naya’s anger.

“Our matters can wait. I promised Eliya a story tonight.”

Naya took a shaky breath and rose unsteadily.

*Damn it…*

*To be toyed with like this…*

She hastily dressed and headed for the bathroom door.

Elise stepped behind her, arm gently hooking around her waist—Naya collapsed into her hold.

“Still telling stories? You’re barely standing.”

“It’s *your* fault!” Naya snapped, trying to pry Elise’s arms away. Elise held firm.

“Skip it tonight. Rest with me. Please?”

“No! Unlike you—always buried in duty, barely glancing at Eliya—I *see* her. Do you even view her as your daughter? Can you feel how much I care? I *promised* her. I won’t break it.”

Her words spilled raw frustration. Elise resembled the workaholic parent from dramas who neglects home.

Logically, Naya knew the Dragon Sovereign had burdens. Emotionally? Unforgivable.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong,” Elise murmured gently.

“Let. Me. Go.”

Helpless, Elise released her.

She watched Naya limp toward the door, worried she’d collapse before Eliya’s room—

Yet Naya persevered all the way.

*Is this… a mother’s light?*

Elise’s chest tightened. She’d even hoped Naya would ask for help on the stairs… but sheer will pushed that door open.

“Mama! You’re back!”

Eliya’s eyes lit up the moment Naya appeared—shaking off drowsiness from Flanna’s dull tale. She spotted Elise behind her.

Naya glanced back. “Why follow me?”

“To listen.”

*Still suspicious?*

Anger simmered in Naya’s heart, but for Eliya’s sake, she softened her smile and turned to Flanna.

“Flanna, thank you. Rest now. I’ll take over.”

“Of course.”

Flanna noted Naya’s flushed cheeks—the lingering warmth, the mature allure still vivid. *Her Majesty is truly blessed.* She bowed quietly and left.

The blush softened Naya’s anger into something endearing, zero menace.

Eliya’s conviction deepened: *Mother’s “mood therapy” for Mama really worked!*

Mama seemed cuter now. Eliya patted the bed.

“Mama, Mama, hurry! I’m ready—serve the new story already!”

“Mm.” Naya smiled, ignoring the Dragon Queen behind her, and sat beside Eliya.

“Lie down nicely, sweetheart. It’s late—you sleep right after.”

“Mm!”

“Let’s continue last night’s tale.”

“Huh? There’s more?”

“Inspiration struck.”

“Mm-hmm!” Eliya settled, eyes sparkling.

“Six years after the Chosen Hero’s final battle, the Dragon Sovereign and the princess welcomed their first daughter—who *was* the Hero herself, though her past memories were gone. Call her the Dragonkin Maiden. One day, the Dragon Sovereign told her the tale of Hero vs. Dragon. The Maiden huffed, ‘Just wait till I catch that Hero! I’ll beat her senseless and show her who’s boss!’”

“Wow! Could *I* be the Hero?”

“Just a story, Eliya.”

“Keep going, Mama!”

*No sleeping now.*

This wasn’t a lullaby—it was pure adrenaline!

Behind Naya, Elise untied her coiled hair, combing gently while magic dried each strand.

She didn’t know the earlier tale, but this new thread intrigued her.

Exhaustion + head pats = inevitable drowsiness. No wonder “head pats” were a beloved trope—being stroked by someone you adore *was* soothing.

Naya slumped onto Eliya.

“Mama!”

“Shh…” Elise hushed her. “She’s drained. Let her rest, okay?”

“Did… thinking up stories tire her brain too much?”

“Yes.”

Watching Eliya gaze at Naya with such pure adoration—as if *she*, the Mother Sovereign, had vanished—Elise’s heart ached.

*Have I neglected them too long?*

Naya’s anger wasn’t just about suspicion. It was years of pent-up hurt. Regained memories simply gave the former Hero—the one who once faced dragons—the courage to speak.

“Eliya… sleep with us tonight?”

*Savor this family warmth, just once.*

Eliya nodded eagerly. (Naya used to be her bedtime companion.)

A year ago, Elise insisted she sleep alone—“for independence.” Eliya never bought it: *Mother just wanted Mama all to herself.*

Elise lifted Naya gently, settling her on one side of the centrally placed bed. Then she lay on Eliya’s other side.

Sandwiched between her two mothers, cradled softly, Eliya floated on cloud nine.

Never. Felt. This. Wonderful.

Even the summer crickets outside seemed to cheer *just for her*.