Chapter 452: Let The Negotiations Begin

The official who had tried to speak found his voice had completely deserted him.

He stood there, mouth slightly open, eyes trembling, his face slowly draining of all color.

Moments ago, he and his colleagues had looked at this boy and seen an easy target. Someone who had wandered in where he didn’t belong, stuffing his face while the rest of them suffered through their nerves.

They would vent their frustration on him, kick him out, feel better about themselves.

Now they understood the depth of their mistake.

Not only was this boy supported by Nadia—he was close to her.

Close enough that she wiped food from his face like a mother tending to her child.

These men had nearly made an enemy of someone Lady Nadia clearly treasured.

And now she was staring at them with those cold, empty eyes, and they felt like prey caught in the gaze of something far larger and far more dangerous than themselves.

The worst part was they had confronted Nadia before. Argued with her. Debated her proposals. Challenged her decisions.

That was politics. That was expected.

But standing right in front of her, with that terrible stillness in her face, with those eyes that held no emotion at all—none of them dared to speak.

The man at the front took a shaky step backward.

His face arranged itself into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Of course not, Lady Nadia! N-No problem at all. We wouldn’t dare!"

He was already retreating, his hands raised placatingly.

"We were just—just coming to check on the young man. See if he was enjoying the food. Some of those dishes come from our realm, you see. We wanted to know if they were to his taste."

Behind him, the other officials nodded frantically, a chorus of agreement rising from their throats.

"Yes! Exactly!"

"Just checking on the food!"

"Making sure everything was satisfactory!"

One of them even stepped forward and asked Mika, in a voice trembling with forced cheerfulness, whether the dishes from his region were properly prepared.

Mika didn’t look up. Didn’t acknowledge them at all. He just kept eating, utterly indifferent to their existence.

The official’s smile froze. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to demand respect.

But he couldn’t. Not with Nadia’s eyes still on him. So he swallowed his pride, nodded as if everything was fine, and stepped back into the group.

Nadia watched them for a long moment. Her expression didn’t change. She simply looked at them with that same cold, steady gaze—and that was somehow worse than any display of anger could have been.

The men felt like they were standing on the edge of a volcano. Some of them were genuinely afraid they might faint.

Then, finally, she looked away.

"Go on now." She said dismissively. "I’m sure you have work to do. You need to prepare. The meeting is about to start."

The man at the front immediately bowed.

"O-Of course, of course, Lady Nadia!" He said, relief flooding his voice. "We won’t bother you anymore!"

He turned and fled. The others followed, scrambling back to their side of the hall with whatever dignity they could salvage.

The moment they reached their seats, a collective sigh rippled through the room.

The oppressive weight that had settled over the hall lifted. People breathed again.

But the unease remained.

This was because Nadia had always been formidable. Everyone knew that.

But they had always believed her formidable within bounds—constrained by duty, by ethics, by the very principles she had spent her career upholding.

She would argue fiercely, negotiate ruthlessly, but she would never step beyond the lines she had drawn for herself.

But what they had just witnessed was something else entirely.

The way she had looked at those men—that was not political calculation.

That was something primal. Something no one in this room had ever seen from her before.

And now they all wondered: who was this boy?

What connection did he have to the woman who had just shown a room full of the most powerful people in existence that she would burn the world for him?

They wanted to stare. To study him. To figure out the puzzle.

But none of them dared to look too long, afraid that Nadia’s gaze would find them next. So they turned away, forced their minds back to their notes, back to the arguments they had prepared, back to the task at hand.

Across the room, Mika finally set down his fork. He turned toward Nadia, studying her face with the same intensity she had just turned on the officials.

She was looking at him now, and the coldness was gone.

Her eyes were soft, her lips slightly curved like watching him eat seemed to bring her more joy than anything else in the world.

His eyes narrowed at the sight.

"What’s wrong, Nadia? Why do look like that?"

She blinked. "What?"

"You look nervous." He leaned closer, studying her features with an intensity that made her want to look away. "Almost flustered. There’s something off with you right now."

Nadia’s heart stuttered.

She glanced subtly at the computer screen beside her, searching for her reflection. Her face looked exactly as it always did.

Still. Composed. Unreadable. She let out a small breath of relief before turning back to him.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mika." Her voice was perfectly flat. "I’m calm. Composed. As always."

But Mika laughed. It was a quiet laugh, meant only for her.

"That line might work on other people." He said. "But it doesn’t work on me."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping.

"I can read you, Nadia. Even when you pretend nothing’s changed. You’re going through something right now..."

"...So, what happened?"

Nadia’s breath caught.

Of course he could tell. Of course. Her own family couldn’t read her. Her own daughter struggled to understand her moods, her silences, the subtle shifts that meant so much to those who knew how to look.

But Mika had always seen through her. Always understood without being told.

It was one of the things she loved most about him.

And one of the things that terrified her right now.

Because he was right. She was flustered. Nervous. Her thoughts were a tangle she couldn’t unravel, and it had nothing to do with the meeting about to begin.

It was what had happened in the other room. His hands on her chest. The way he had touched her, played with her dress, treated her body like something to be experimented with.

He had done it playfully, she knew that. He was just being Mika—mischievous, pushing boundaries without a second thought.

It was probably another prank, like the kiss yesterday. Nothing serious. Nothing meant.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

After all, It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. A son shouldn’t touch his mother like that.

They were crossing lines, boundaries, things that should never be crossed.

But when she tried to feel outrage, she found none.

Because she trusted Mika completely. She knew he would never do anything with ill intent.

This was just...him. Being closer than he had been in years. Making up for lost time in the only way he knew how.

That should have been enough to settle her mind.

But then she remembered the heat. The racing pulse. The way her body had reacted and she couldn’t stop wondering if there was something wrong with her for feeling that way.

She had spent the last twenty minutes in the restroom, splashing cold water on her face, trying to calm herself down.

She had convinced herself she was composed again. That no one would notice anything amiss.

And then Mika had looked at her for three seconds and seen right through everything.

But she couldn’t tell him the truth. How could she?

’I’m flustered because you groped me and I liked it? Impossible!’

So she took a breath. Forced her voice steady.

"It’s nothing." She said cooly before hesitantly adding, "I’m just...a little nervous about the meeting. Even after all these years, it’s daunting."

She looked at him, and this time, she let a little warmth into her eyes. Real warmth.

"But I’ll be fine. With you here."

She placed a hand on his thigh, a brief, affectionate touch.

Mika studied her for a moment longer. He knew she was lying. But he also knew when to push and when to let things be. This was not the time.

Instead, he scooped up a spoonful of food from one of the remaining plates. A perfect bite, carefully gathered, sauce still glistening and pushed it to here.

"Here." He said. "Open up."

She blinked. "What?"

"You always skip meals before important meetings. Probably haven’t eaten anything today." He held the spoon closer. "So open up. Can’t have you getting hungry in the middle of negotiations."

The delegates who were still watching nearly choked on their own saliva.

He was going to feed her? Lady Nadia? The woman who had negotiated with kings, who had ended wars with a word—was going to be spoon-fed by a boy?

They waited for her to refuse. To brush him off with cold dignity.

To remind him that she was a grown woman, a force of nature who didn’t need to be fed like a child.

Instead—Nadia’s face lit up.

It was subtle—for her, it might as well have been a sunrise. Her eyes brightened. Her lips parted. She leaned forward slightly, like a bird offered a treat and took the spoonful into her mouth.

And seeing this, the room went very, very quiet.

Nadia chewed slowly, savoring it. Her expression was soft, almost dreamy.

"You weren’t lying." She said. "This is good. Really good."

Mika grinned. "Told you so."

He scooped up another bite and held it out. She took it without hesitation.

And the moment she did, her earlier turmoil, her racing thoughts, her confusion—all of it faded.

After all, how could she think Mika had any intention but to love her, to care for her, to be her son?

How could she doubt him even for a moment?

He was feeding her. Like he had when he was small, sitting beside her while she worked, pushing bites of food toward her mouth and demanding she eat.

The memory made her chest ache with tenderness.

She leaned closer to him, letting him feed her, letting the warmth of the moment wash away everything else.

The room watched in disbelief.

No one spoke.

Some of the delegates had forgotten the arguments they had prepared. Others had stopped pretending to read their notes.

But even though everyone in the hall was shocked by the scene before them, they dared not look for too long.

They went back to their own duties—while sneaking occasional glances at Mika and Nadia.

And the pattern that they noticed was both endearing and bizarre:

Mika would take five spoonfuls of food for himself, eating casually.

Then he would feed Nadia one spoonful.

And Nadia—powerful, intimidating, untouchable Nadia was like an obedient puppy right now.

She would always open her mouth whenever he showed her the spoon, waiting patiently, her eyes bright with anticipation.

And whenever he forgot—whenever he got too caught up in his own eating and skipped her turn—she would gently nudge him with her hand and open her mouth expectantly, silently asking for her portion.

It was adorable.

Seeing this, everyone was absolutely baffled.

Nadia suddenly looked so cute right now, so endearing—like someone you’d want to coddle and spoil, like a beloved pet or a cherished child.

It made absolutely no sense with the image she’d cultivated over the years.

And yet here she was, being spoon-fed like a delighted child, her usual stern composure completely melted away.

Time passed just like that.

More and more officials began filtering into the room, each one initially surprised by the sight of Nadia being so intimate with someone.

But after getting urgent warnings from their colleagues—silent gestures, meaningful looks, whispered cautions—they didn’t dare say anything about it.

They simply found their seats and kept their mouths shut.

Eventually, the human delegation arrived as well.

Nadia’s subordinates came with them, and they too were surprised to see their boss being so close and affectionate with someone else.

But some of them already knew a little about who Mika was—or at least, they knew enough to understand that he was someone important to Nadia, someone who should not be questioned or approached casually.

So they didn’t dare interrupt when the two of them were spending time together.

They kept their distance, preparing their materials and organizing the final details for the meeting.

Eventually, the time came.

The entire hall fell silent as people settled into their seats, the atmosphere shifting from casual preparation to tense anticipation.

Nadia knew this too.

And honestly? She was annoyed.

She didn’t want to stop having Mika feed her.

Logically, she was already full—she didn’t need any more food. But since it was Mika who was feeding her, she’d been stuffing her stomach anyway, not wanting this moment to end.

But she knew she had responsibilities.

She had a job to do.

So finally, reluctantly, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and looked at Mika one last time—as if he were her lucky charm, her source of strength—before standing up.

She turned to face the assembled crowd.

Everyone immediately stiffened, recognizing that the time had come.

"Good afternoon, everyone."

Nadia began, her voice carrying clearly across the hall.

"Thank you all for coming here today. I hope that we can reach a good decision together—one that will benefit everyone involved."

Her tone was polite, professional, welcoming.

But then, suddenly, a much more stern, crisp, and solemn look appeared on her face.

"However..." She continued, her voice becoming sharper. "...there’s no need to waste any more time with pleasantries."

"I’m sure many of you have doubts, worries, and assumptions about this coalition. About what it means, what it will cost, what risks it poses."

She looked directly at the conservative faction across from her.

"So please." She said clearly. "Ask away. We’re ready to answer whatever questions you have. Let’s move forward with this discussion."

She sat down.

The silence lasted exactly two seconds.

Then the conservative side of the hall exploded.