The queen took Aryan's shoulder, she examined the boy's body, then her gaze hit the birthmark an inch above the base of the boy's pubic.
At the same time, Dwi Ara seemed to feel the Earth shaking violently which made her giddy.
"It's true!" Dwi Ara muttered in a very low voice that trembled. "H—He's my son!"
Aryan, who was in a state of anxiety, was even more afraid of what the queen had done to him. He just stood still and didn't even hear the queen's trembling voice.
"Your Majesty," said a palace maid to Dwi Ara who was silent like a statue.
She and her friend were a little worried, that the presence of the queen in the bathroom of these slaves might cause a scandal for the queen in the eyes of others.
"You shouldn't have come here," she said very politely. "Come, Your Majesty. We need to leave."
Then suddenly the queen hugged Aryan so tightly that everyone who was there gasped in confusion. Especially, the seven-year-old boy himself.