She had never once wished for such a thing, so why did he speak as though bestowing a reward? Reina turned her head, her expression devoid of feeling. Kaelid seized her cheek, forcing her to face him again, then slowly released his grip—as if mindful of the child in her belly.

“Reina.”

The gentle sound of her name made her skin crawl. It was almost laughable. Did he truly believe he could suddenly become a good father now? Even if the child were truly Kaelid’s, he would never be a good father. If he didn’t end up beheaded by his own child, that alone would be a miracle—just as Eldan had been.

At the thought, she found herself almost entertained by the idea of bearing this man’s child. Kaelid, cut down by his own son or daughter.

‘Ah, but Zephion will take care of him long before that.’

A small laugh slipped from her lips. Kaelid, feigning tenderness, brushed her hair with exaggerated care, then lowered his head toward her. Beneath him, shards of glass crumbled further into dust.

The kiss—uncharacteristically cautious for Kaelid—was sickening.

“Ah—mph…”

His tongue slid against her lips before pushing its way inside. Such a kiss from him, for the first time, sent a shiver of revulsion crawling over her skin. Whether he noticed her frown or not, his hand clamped around her cheek as he pressed deeper.

The wet, invasive feel of the flesh moving inside her mouth made her stomach turn. At the light pressure on her shoulder, she let herself sink onto the sofa. She closed her eyes, unmoving, as his impatient hands shoved her skirts upward and spread her legs, sliding between them. One of her thighs rested against the sofa’s back.

Fingers brushed along the inside of her thigh, slipping beneath her undergarments. Her lashes lowered in a slow blink. The man above her descended, the familiar ceiling coming back into view. Blankly, she stared upward as Kaelid tore away her underwear without pause.

This time, instead of his usual roughness, his hand stroked her belly gently—as though cherishing what lay within.

“…”

Was he truly planning to make her carry this child to term? The timing had been dangerously close, overlapping just enough to leave doubt. If only she could say the exact day she conceived, with certainty. Instead, all she could offer was around that time, and Kaelid twisted that vagueness to suit himself.

‘Does he not even consider, for a moment, that it might be Zephion’s child?’

A dry, mirthless laugh escaped her. He seemed certain she had conceived only after returning to the estate.

‘Or perhaps he still thinks of Zephion as nothing—just as before. A pitiful boy, incapable of even lying with me.’

As these thoughts drifted hazily through her mind, he stripped away the rest of her clothes. Then he lowered his face to her slightly rounded belly, pressing his cheek against it—almost as if he believed he could feel something stir within.

The way Kaelid acted as though something about her was lovable made her skin crawl. Was it only because he believed the child was his? Did he think that no matter what, one’s own child could only be precious? A short, hollow laugh escaped her.

“They say it’s fine to have s*x even while pregnant.”

“…”

“Though the child in your belly had better not inherit your lewdness.”

Did he truly think that was a joke? Reina blinked without expression. Not even a shred of it struck her as funny.

‘If I really give birth, what am I supposed to do?’

Could she manage to get the medicine again? She could easily guess that after already attempting to kill it once, she would be watched closely. Should she throw herself down the stairs? Strike her stomach hard? Perhaps it would be best if some complication arose on its own, ending in miscarriage.

If she bore this child, it would become, as this man had said, the son or daughter of the Marquis of Berend.

Her head throbbed.

‘If that happens, Zephion will kill the child.’

She couldn’t bear the thought of that. What should she do? Should she tell him the truth and say that it was his? But would he even believe her? Hadn’t he been cautious enough when they were together to warn her about the risks? If she were to conceive at that moment, would he truly accept it as his?

If the child were born with golden eyes, he might believe it was his. But even as she thought that, Reina let out a long sigh.

And if the child did have golden eyes, that would be a problem too. Kaelid would know exactly whose blood the child carried the moment he saw them.

No matter which way she turned, there was no escape. Watching Zephion’s child die at Kaelid’s hands would be unbearable. Yet she could not bring herself to kill the frail life inside her with her own hands. If it were Kaelid’s child, she would not have hesitated.

‘I don’t know anymore.’

Everything was a tangle of confusion.

She covered her eyes with her hand. Kaelid, who had been pressing his cheek and ear against her belly as though to feel something, seemed to lose interest. His hand slid down between her thighs. Fingers brushed slowly over her parted flesh, pushing gently into the slightly damp entrance.

“Mm…”

A small sound escaped as the sensation of his fingers stirring inside her walls spread through her. Whether she wanted it or not, her body accepted the familiar pleasure with practiced ease. His unhesitating touch pressed against her most sensitive place, sending warmth slowly rising through her belly.

‘Is it really safe for the child, even like this?’

She wondered if being filled so deeply and forcefully could truly have no effect. And yet, she concluded that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if it did.

‘If there’s no other way to get rid of the child, perhaps rough s*x will be enough to bring about a miscarriage.’

Reina’s gaze rested on the hand gripping her br*ast.

“They’ve grown a little larger.”

“…”

“Pregnancy isn’t such a bad thing after all.”

Kaelid let out a low laugh, seemingly pleased that her br*asts filled—and even slightly overflowed—his hand. His fingertips rubbed over her n*pple. Was it her imagination, or had she grown more sensitive than before? The soft flesh quickly swelled, turning firm beneath his touch.

“Ah… haah…”

Turning her head aside, Reina let out shallow breaths. The fingers stirring inside her grew rougher. They pried apart the quivering walls, scraping firmly against the slick, wet flesh that was beginning to soak with arousal.

“Mm—ah…”

Even lost in other thoughts, her body responded of its own accord to his touch. Her waist twitched, trembling in small, helpless shivers. She could feel herself tightening hard around his fingers. Heat spread through her belly as slick fl*id overflowed.

“Do you think I can go as deep as usual?”

He murmured in a low voice, clearly not expecting an answer, as the blunt head of his p*nis pressed against her entrance. Reina hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should say something to provoke him—but in the end, she kept silent.

She wanted him to take her so hard that she would be left in ruins. She wanted him to be so rough that the child inside her would be crushed and unable to survive.

“Ah—ugh…”

The swollen tip stretched her open, pressing inside. The tight pull as she spread felt the same as ever, yet everything seemed sharper, more vivid. Was it because she was pregnant? Only yesterday, she had felt none of this. Knowing the truth had changed everything.

Her thighs trembled. The thick, rigid shaft, flushed a deep red, pushed slowly between her legs. It slid along the wet folds, grinding against the sensitized flesh within.

“Haa… haah…”