Jeanne, who had kissed the child’s cheek, turned to him and answered.

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

Giuseppe didn’t resemble her husband. Nor did he resemble Jeanne. The child strangely resembled his maternal grandfather. Even more than her half-siblings. Even the color of his hair was as bright as pure gold. If her full brother, Elliot, had an appearance that appropriately mixed their mother Elaine and their father, Giuseppe was said to be so similar that it was like exactly replicating his father’s childhood.

Since it was the evaluation of the Empress Dowager who had seen him since childhood, it wouldn’t be wrong. Even to Jeanne, Giuseppe resembled his father a lot. If someone who didn’t know the circumstances saw him, they might mistake him not as a baby she gave birth to but as a late child born to her mother or her stepmother, the Countess of Spetunia.

‘How strange. What blood is…… I impregnated you, but how could a baby who resembles your father, not a baby who resembles me, come out of your womb? Shouldn’t it resemble you if not me?’

The emperor muttered while stroking his chin. He seemed truly curious rather than displeased. It was understandable. All the babies before Giuseppe resembled him. Especially the firstborn, Kiril, was truly a child who looked exactly like him.

He resembled his father so much it was creepy. That’s what the Empress Dowager said.

She would say things that weren’t quite reproaches but sounded like them, like why there was no resemblance to you when the child was born from your womb. The Empress Dowager said it was as if she had gone back 25 years and brought the newly born emperor to place beside you.

Whether it was sincere or a joke…. Jeanne only smiled slightly at his muttering in a voice without a trace of humor.

Kiril, who had inherited his imperial father’s distinct features from infancy with clear facial features, grew more like him as he aged, and the second and third sons, Joshua and Maxim, were also born with features quite similar to him.

At least Joshua resembled her a bit more, but his eyes and mouth were so similar that, if pressed, he could be called a child who resembled his father more.

Giuseppe had blonde hair unlike his brothers, but he resembled his maternal grandfather, not his mother. Especially since Jeanne took after her paternal side, not her maternal side. The emperor, who chanted like a mantra that she should give birth to children who resembled her every time she became pregnant, might not find this very pleasing.

‘But Your Majesty doesn’t resemble the late Emperor either.’

Jeanne retorted in a sulky voice, feeling unjustly accused. The emperor turned to his wife with a strange look. Jeanne bit her lip firmly, avoiding his gaze. If anyone had a right to feel wronged, it was her.

She was the one who had suffered for ten months to give birth, while her husband merely enjoyed the outcome. Now imagine giving birth to children who resembled her husband rather than herself, one after another. She was the one who felt empty. Fortunately, Mona was born looking exactly like her. If it weren’t for Mona….

‘I resemble my ancestors.’

He answered quietly. Jeanne raised her eyes to look at her husband. She recalled the portrait of the first emperor she had seen in the Great Temple, “Star of the Sky,” during her childhood.

Black hair. Vivid purple eyes…. A sharp, firm jawline. The stern lips and cool eyes within the sharply crafted, noble contours were traits her husband had not inherited from his parents.

Truly, what is bloodline? Her husband, who resembled him even in the beauty hidden beneath his cold impression, slid his lips.

Jeanne looked at her young son, avoiding him as he lowered his head to kiss her lips. Giuseppe, as if searching for milk even in his dreams, moved his red lips and made nursing sounds.

Jeanne traced her son’s plump lips with her finger. Fair skin with chubby cheeks. The jewel-like purple eyes unique to the Riscaltheon imperial family were as beautiful as the evening sky.

Unable to contain her overflowing love, she pressed her lips to the sleeping baby’s cheek. The sweet scent of vanilla oil applied after a thorough bath was delightful.

‘Don’t you want to have another?’

Oily fingers traced her waist. Jeanne turned her head to look at her husband. Although it was a question she had heard quite often and nothing new, today she felt somewhat irritated. Whenever Cesare saw her adoring a baby, he always asked like this.

Wouldn’t she like to have another? They would grow up soon. His sons, taking after him, would all grow up early, so she would soon feel regretful….

‘I’m not sure.’

Jeanne glared at him as if to stab him, then rose from the bed to avoid him. Her wrist was pulled. Surprised, she turned to him, and their lips immediately collided. The man who had pushed her down tried to burrow into her neck.

‘Let’s make another baby.’

His hand lifted her dress, caressing her white thigh. Jeanne pushed against his thick chest, then bit his earlobe hard. The emperor stopped moving and looked down at her. Jeanne pushed him away with an angry face, but her wrist was caught.

‘Jeanne.’

‘I’m sorry, but unless I do this….’

‘Do it again.’

His face suddenly contorted. The man, with a reddened bridge of his nose, whispered to her. Jeanne looked at him as if he were crazy, then suggested moving to another place when the child whimpered. The emperor, taking this as acceptance, nodded.

* * *

“You refused to use a wet nurse before.”

A dry, low voice resonated in her ear. Jeanne raised her head to look at the man walking through the evening darkness.

Enoch, who had been whimpering and crying frequently today, looked at his father with teary eyes. Enoch, who had been repeatedly spitting out milk while nursing, sniffled with difficulty.

Although he was more sensitive than his older siblings, Enoch had never been this fussy about nursing. Just as she was worried that he might be sick somewhere, hearing such words from her husband didn’t make her feel good.

When a child doesn’t eat during mealtime and cries, a father should suspect if something is uncomfortable.

But this father now….

“Is that all you have to say?”

Jeanne sharpened her tone, not holding back. She usually listened to him. But today, she simply couldn’t bear it.

In fact, it had been like this since the afternoon. The emperor had finally dragged Martha out and sent her to the Security Bureau. And that was the Imperial Security Bureau directly under the emperor, not the Palace Administration.

No matter how displeased he was, Martha was his concubine and a woman. Even if she were to be expelled from the rear palace in the process of determining her crime, she was currently a concubine. Yet the emperor mobilized the imperial guard to drag Martha out.

As his attempts to stop him only made things worse, there wasn’t much she could do, but still, her heart was uneasy.

“Then?”

The man, who had taken off his black cloak and handed it to an attendant, then irritably loosened his cravat, asked dryly. Jeanne bit her lip. The child cried again.

She stood up to soothe the child and readjusted him in her arms. Just as she naturally turned her back to him and was patting the child’s back.

Cesare grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. She glared at him at the sudden touch. The emperor looked down at her with a rigid face.

“What is it that displeases you so much?”

“Nothing like that. How could I…?”

“Yet you turn your back on me?”

“Stop it, Your Majesty. Your son is crying. I….”

As she was trying to soothe the child while twisting her captured shoulder, the hand that had been holding her shoulder took the child away. He held his son indifferently while staring at her.

“Give him to me, Your Majesty. He’s still a baby who can’t even crawl. You shouldn’t hold him like that.”

Enoch was literally a baby. A baby who was just starting to roll over and babble. There was no reason to be so rough with a son who wasn’t even weaned.

Cesare readjusted the child at his wife’s request. Then he patted his back. But the crying didn’t stop easily. Jeanne anxiously tried to take the child back. Cesare dragged her to the sofa, sat her down, and unfastened her bosom.

“I….”

Jeanne flinched and moved her lips. He patted the bottom of his son, who was crying “Waaah—,” a few times, then placed him against her br*ast. Jeanne soothed her gasping son and let him latch on. Enoch blinked his purple eyes as he sucked.

A hand like a maple leaf caressed her other br*ast. Cesare brought a cushion and placed it behind her waist. Jeanne looked up at him. With an expressionless face, he sat beside her and watched his son nursing.

“Now tell me.”

Cesare, who had been watching his son eagerly sucking milk, raised his gaze. Jeanne, who had been stroking the chubby belly while making eye contact with her son, turned her head. Her husband wore a familiar expression. A face desperate, as if pleading….

“Jeanne.”

“…There was no need to treat Martha like that.”

“Didn’t I say I would handle it myself?”

“Even if you said that….”

“It’s not your concern.”

Long fingers brushed away fallen strands of hair. The chestnut hair, contrasting with her pale skin, was exceptionally beautiful. The man who tucked the beautiful hair behind her round ear turned her chin.