Iren bit her lip. Just as Lahart said, she had no right to meddle in whoever he chose to have an heir with. After all, she was merely a Duchess in name that he brought in for his revenge.

Then, is there a need to keep holding onto such a meaningless position? If he finds another woman, wouldn’t it be better to just leave?

“I won’t say a word about whoever you choose to have an heir with. If you tell me to leave my position and go, I will do so immediately…”

“So, you’re telling me to go make a bastard.”

“That’s what you said.”

“For me and this family.”

Suddenly, a murderous aura emanated from Lahart.

Despite the chilling sensation that made her skin crawl, Iren didn’t back down. She couldn’t understand Lahart, so she didn’t even feel fear.

Why are you angry? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s hurt, the one who should be angry? You want a child with another woman, not with me. I heard it straight from my husband’s mouth.

“All this talk supposedly for my sake, that’s what you’re saying.”

Ha. Lahart chuckled briefly and caressed Iren’s earlobe.

“Listen well, Iren. If you bear my child, I will kill it with my own hands.”

Iren’s eyelashes trembled. His cruel nature, so casually declaring someone else’s death, was something she could never get used to.

Lahart was terrifying and frightening. But on the other hand, Iren thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if things went as he said.

He wouldn’t let her go anyway. So then…

“It’s not a bad method. A widowhood would tarnish the Duke’s reputation less than a divorce.”

Iren’s self-mockery and anger were now directed at Lahart.

Seeing the sight of Iren’s rare anger, Lahart twisted his lips in amusement and kissed the back of her hand, seemingly trying to provoke her further.

His hand holding hers was so cold, almost making her wonder if the warmth she felt on her forehead earlier was a dream.

Iren wanted to pull away from his hand, but Lahart would never allow it.

“Have I ever said I would kill you?”

“That…”

“These hands have killed my father and brothers. Adding one more drop of blood now won’t make a difference.”

“Ah…”

A wave of devastating despair swallowed Iren.

I was… I was deeply mistaken. I thought that once the antidote was complete, Lahart would forgive me. I thought the antidote could heal his broken soul, at least partly.

That he could return to being the kind and gentle man he once was. That’s what I believed…!

“You’re insane… You’re insane. How can you say such things!”

“Would I have married you if I weren’t crazy?”

At that moment, Iren couldn’t deny it any longer.

The Lahart she had so dearly loved, to whom she had devoted her entire body and soul to protect and cherish, had died from poison 10 years ago on that day.

What I held onto and clung to was nothing more than my own foolishness, wearing his name and his shell.

The past 5 years, no, even the 5 years I spent waiting endlessly for him in the dungeon, crumbled away like a sandcastle.

Who was truly arrogant?

Lahart? No, it wasn’t him. The truly proud one was myself.

People cannot change others. He never wanted my love in the first place. It was only I who wanted a child, who wanted love.

Over 5 years, I’ve realized this truth countless times, yet I’ve deliberately ignored it, hoping otherwise. Iren had no choice but to accept this truth in the most miserable way possible.

Lahart does not love me. So he will not love a child I bear.

He hates me. He would hate my child as well.

“Do not even dream of having a child.”

Lahart let out a cold sigh and placed his hand on Iren’s stomach, her lips turning blue.

“You should only embrace me.”

A life where neither death nor a child is permitted.

Irelaide Cardius has been declared by Lahart to live such a life from now on, and forever.

I wanted nothing from him. I dared not hope for his love, nor for his forgiveness.

This child too, was not what Iren initially wanted. Lahart was half responsible for this miraculously conceived child.

But you, because of your revenge directed solely at me, the child…

How great, how desperate must that revenge be, to go to such lengths?

Perhaps that’s why, for the first time in her life, Iren wanted to take revenge on Lahart. More precisely, she wanted to make him regret.

I wish you could feel the horror I felt. I wish you would suffer because of me. I wish you would realize how terrible the words you spoke were and suffer in pain.

Lahart kissed Iren as if to blow away her thoughts. Iren struggled to push him away.

But the stubborn Lahart didn’t frown or wrinkle his brow as he pulled her even closer.

His breath, carrying his scent, flooded into her mouth. Iren glared with wide eyes and bit down hard on his tongue that recklessly invaded her mouth.

Lahart momentarily flinched and then pressed down on her with his weight.

A bitter taste of blood flowed into Iren’s mouth.

The sensation of the lukewarm and smooth liquid spreading in her mouth was atrocious.

* * *

After that blood-tainted kiss, Lahart did not return to Iren’s room.

Iren found it easier that way. She found it hard to directly look Lahart in the face.

In the dawning light, Iren repeated her worries and suffering alone.

Initially, it was a vague thought. She wanted to raise a child with Lahart. She wanted to form a family with him and be happy because she loved Lahart, harboring a faint hope of having a child with the person she loved.

But Lahart did not want a child with her. He even said he would kill it if she bore a child.

She could endure him saying he would kill her. It was inevitable, natural even, since she was his enemy.

But what about the child? This innocent and pitiable child that came to me?

Lahart’s cruelty, wanting to kill an innocent child while keeping me alive by his side until the end, made my teeth chatter with rage.

And so Iren thought,

‘I must die.’

Her death would also be for Lahart. He was incapable of proper thought, already consumed by revenge.

But if she were to die, if the target of his revenge disappeared from this world, perhaps his desire for revenge would slowly fade.

Even if his directionless anger wouldn’t disappear completely, it might submerge inside him and become controllable.

No, this is hypocrisy. This isn’t for Lahart. It’s not maternal love for the child either.

I just want to take revenge on Lahart. A shallow and selfish desire for revenge against him for crushing my love and ultimately not wanting even the child.

Yet, Iren had no choice.

The motive doesn’t matter. She was left with only two options: to kill herself or the child.

Since she couldn’t hide the fact that she was pregnant, Lahart, a man who always keeps his word, would surely act.

Then… then.

I have to die and save the child. It’s paradoxical, but it’s the only way to save myself.

The antidote is ready. I have no reason left to stay here. Lahart’s answer yesterday rid me of my last lingering attachment, my last hope.

Iren wanted a family. And until now, she had considered Lahart her family. Why wouldn’t she? All her blood relatives were gone from this world.

Of course, Iren knew better than anyone that just because a relationship is bound by blood doesn’t mean it’s truly family. Blood is the most important and solid bond but also the most vain and meaningless justification. Blood relations are just one of many factors chosen out of necessity.

But yesterday, Iren lost her family again. And inside her, a baby that could become her family was growing.

This child might be, no, definitely is—the last chance given to her by God. The last chance to make a real family. A being to exchange genuine love with, without any conditions.

‘Maybe I’m just tired and lonely.’

Iren smiled bitterly. Even so, she had to move forward.

To save the child from Lahart.

* * *

Iren got out of bed and started to act. There was no need to drag out pretending to be sick to hide her pregnancy. It was also good to show that she had regained her strength so she could move around freely.

After that conversation, Lahart’s mood hit rock bottom. He insisted she continue to receive medical treatment and report her health status to him daily.

Sometimes he would appear in her office without warning, and they would often run into each other in other places. Each time, he would stare at Iren, piercing through her. His watchful gaze made Iren feel suffocated.

At least during the day, it was somewhat better. Because at night, she had no choice but to stay in the same room with him without any escape.

Iren wanted to avoid his touch, feeling that Lahart had cruelly changed. He was as frightening and strange, just like he had been right after their marriage.

Besides, with the antidote now completed, applying ointment was a meaningless act. Before, she applied it as a kindness to somewhat alleviate Lahart’s pain.

It’s hard to know when someone says they’ll apply ointment first. If my attitude changes right after talking about the child, he’ll become suspicious. But even if my attitude doesn’t change, it’s still not okay.

She was disappointed in him, but she tried not to show it, suppressing it alone. That seemed appropriate.

And, as always, night came.

Lahart, after entering the bedroom, stood tall near the door. Iren approached him and applied the ointment without a word. Her hands did not tremble or hesitate as usual. They were indifferent and calm.

Lahart, silently watching her hands, grabbed her hand as Iren was closing the ointment jar. His firm arm wrapped around her waist like a rope.

Since some time ago, after she applied the ointment to him, it always led to this peculiar atmosphere. Lahart desired her, and Iren was happy that he desired her.

But not anymore. Now, this atmosphere only felt uncomfortable.

Iren tried to pull her hand away and sneak out of Lahart’s grasp. Of course, Lahart did not allow it. He continued to press on her.

Eventually, Iren blurted out the words she had been holding back.

“I don’t want to be touched by you, Duke.”

Lahart’s straight gaze twisted.

“Do you also find me unpleasant?”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Duke. And don’t twist my words.”

Iren calmly replied while carefully touching the traces of poison that covered Lahart’s shoulder.