Regina’s face flushed a deep red, her heart racing at the realization of the shift in Julian’s touch. It was no longer the innocent gesture of a son who was concerned for his mother; it felt something entirely different, something far more intimate. Her instincts kicked in, and she quickly pulled away from him, taking a step back.
Gregoria looked at her daughter-in-law with a concerned gaze, noticing how flushed Regina’s face had become.
“You look unwell,” she said gently, her voice filled with motherly concern. “Perhaps you should rest for a while.”
Julian with his playful nature teased, “Yes, you should, mother. You’ve been working hard today.”
Regina felt her heart pound in her chest, the weight of Julian’s words and touch still lingering. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye.
With a quick glance at Gregoria, her voice low but steady. “I… I will have to excuse myself, Mother,” she said as she struggled to hide the flurry of emotions swirling inside her. “I’m not feeling well.”
With that, she gave a small nod and turned toward the house. She hurriedly made her way inside, desperately seeking a moment to collect her thoughts.
Regina entered the room and placed her hands on her chest, trying to steady her racing heart.
“Calm yourself, Regina,” she whispered, struggling to push away the overwhelming feelings. “You can’t give in to temptation. He is your son.”
The words felt heavy in her chest as she tried to regain control, torn between the undeniable allure of Julian’s presence and the sacred bond of motherhood.
Regina closed the door behind her and leaned against it, taking a deep breath as she stared at the quiet room. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the thoughts that had been swirling in her mind felt like they were suffocating her.
She pressed her hands against her temples as she forced herself to calm down and to push away the swirling feelings that Julian’s touch had stirred.
“He’s your son, Regina. Your son. Remember that,” she said as she tried to convince herself.
But the moment his hand had cupped her cheek, something had shifted inside her. She had been caught off guard by his sudden touch, and it left her shaken.
She slowly walked and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The woman who stared back at her was still the same—Regina, Duchess of Easvil—but the turmoil in her eyes reflected something different and unfamiliar.
The bond of motherhood was supposed to be sacred and unwavering, yet Julian had tested it in ways she had never imagined. The line between mother and woman seemed blurred, and it terrified her.
Regina closed her eyes and the words Julian had spoken echoed in her mind, “Be my woman, rule by my side.”
They replayed over and over, each repetition stirring a deeper conflict within her.
Her breath hitched as she recalled his touch, the warmth of his hand on her cheek, the way it had made her heart race in a way that felt so wrong yet so impossible to deny.
It was as if he had awakened something inside her, something buried deep beneath layers of duty and restraint. She had tried to dismiss it, to push it aside, but it clung to her, growing stronger with each passing moment.
How did he do this to me? she wondered. How did he make me feel like this? She had spent her life protecting him, nurturing him, and now it seemed as though it was he who had turned the tables and trapped her in cage that she could not find escape to.
Every part of her screamed that this was wrong, that her place was with Alden, that she should never entertain the thought of being anything more than his mother. But another part of her, the part he had touched, whispered something different.
Her hands trembled as she placed it on her heart. I can’t fall deeper into this, she thought desperately, I can’t let him pull me in. But… what if I wanted to?
Regina’s thoughts spiraled, the images of her son flashing through her mind. No, Regina, stop, she told herself. You birthed him, raised him, fed him your milk. He is your son. This is wrong. Her breath quickened as she tried to push the thoughts away.
Her mind kept returning to the moment when she had held him as a baby, the bond that had been forged in those early years of life. She had nursed him, cared for him in ways that only a mother could.
She paused, the thought of feeding him her milk again lingering longer than she had ever expected. Why am I even thinking about this? she thought, horrified by the path her mind had taken. This isn’t what I want. This isn’t what I should want.
But a part of her, wondered what it would be like. What it would feel like to be needed by him in that way again. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, but she quickly shut it down, forcing herself to focus. No, I can’t. I won’t. I have to be strong. I can’t let him make me feel this way.
Regina exhaled sharply as she tried to steady her racing heart but her body betrayed the tough demeanor.
Regina’s hands moved instinctively, almost of their own accord and slid up to her chest. Her fingertips grazed the fabric over her skin. She shivered as her hand settled on the gentle curve of her breast, the warmth of her own touch surprising her.
Yet, her mind wandered irresistibly, drawn to an image of Julian’s hand there instead, firm yet tender, exploring her in ways she had forbidden herself to imagine.
Her heart pounded, her breaths quickening as her fingers brushed over her nipples in delicate and gentle caresses.
She didn’t even realize her hand had moved so intimately until her eyes drifted downward, catching the sight of her own hand against her chest.
The sight jolted her awake, and her mind cleared in a rush of shock and shame. Her hand stood still, hovering over her breast, as the weight of her actions flooded her senses.
What am I doing? she thought.
Her mind spun as the warmth of her own touch still lingered on her skin. This isn’t me, she insisted, trying to regain control of her thoughts. Julian is my son. I can’t… I shouldn’t even think of him this way.
Her hands trembled as she wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes tightly to block out the image of his face, his touch, his gaze.
She took a shaky breath, torn between what she knew was right and what her heart was beginning to crave in ways she could hardly admit.
No, she told herself firmly as she took a step back from the mirror, away from her reflection that seemed to stare back with a mixture of guilt and longing.
This cannot continue. I won’t let it. Yet even as she told herself these things, a small voice whispered within her, making her question how long she could resist the pull Julian had awakened inside her.