“If the child dies, everyone around you will pay the price.”

“…”

“Especially that Rose you care for so much.”

His lips curled into a crooked smile. She bit down hard on her lip. It was a blatant threat. If the child died, Rose and countless others would die with it. She was being told never to try such things again.

“…I understand.”

Reina answered slowly. ‘Six months now.’ At this stage, terminating the pregnancy had become almost impossible. Even those willing to provide the medication could only shake their heads. It had been a month since she had found out. The child had survived this long — there was nothing left but to give birth.

The cold metal brushing her cheek slowly warmed to her body heat. Kaelid stepped closer, lowering his head. She tried to turn her eyes away, but his hand seized her chin and forced her to look up. His lips pressed against hers.

She squeezed her eyes shut as his tongue slowly traced her lips before biting down gently.

“Ah—”

Her soft m*an was met with a low laugh. Kaelid bent down further, sinking to his knees on the floor. He pressed his forehead against the curve of her belly, now showing clearly with pregnancy. Reina simply looked down at him.

Even at the sight of this man in such an unfamiliar posture, she felt nothing. She only gazed blankly at the crown of red hair beneath her.

‘Ah, it’s a relief I won’t have to see him for a while.’

The thought drifted idly through her mind.

Though the war had surely begun, the estate remained unchanged. The vast plains stretched out in stillness. The servants went about their days, a touch uneasy perhaps, but otherwise as if nothing had happened.

Had she been dragged into the war, she would have witnessed its horrors with her own eyes. But confined within the estate, the chaos outside felt almost like a lie. The only signs that a war was being waged were the gazettes the servants brought every few days, the princess’s notes, and Kaelid’s absence.

Reina picked up the gazette, absently rubbing the curve of her now noticeably rounded belly.

‘He said he would return before the child is born.’

She let out a quiet, scornful laugh at the thought. Contrary to expectations that the tide would swing The Emperor and the Princess were locked in a tense stalemate, each decisively moving in one direction. The emperor had deployed House Berend as his vanguard, while the princess had deployed House Baltgar.

This came as a surprise to her. Although Zephion was well trained, he was still young; yet they had placed him on the front lines. She found herself resenting the princess for it. There were others with far more battle experience.

‘Or perhaps it was Zephion’s own wish.’

If it was hatred for House Berend that he was seeking, then no one could rival his own. He would have liked nothing more than to take down Kaelid Berend himself.

Reina slowly read through the gazette. Although it was clearly biased in favour of the Emperor, as befitted a paper circulated in the capital, it was hardly optimistic. ‘If the truth were to come out,’ she thought, ‘perhaps the princess would have the upper hand.’

A faint laugh escaped her lips as she put the paper down on the table.

The child moved within her belly. Yesterday it had seemed to be hiding its existence, but now that it had escaped the shadow of death, it was growing quickly. Reina quietly watched her stomach.

‘What kind of child will be born?’

That was her only concern. If the child was to survive, it would have to resemble her. A bitter smile touched her face.

Even as the birth drew nearer, she still hadn’t come to terms with her feelings towards the child. She could neither hate nor love it. Feeling it grow day by day inside her and holding it close without being able to cherish it — how could she possibly explain such a feeling?

‘A mother who cannot even love the child she carries… what could be worse?’

Reina leaned back against the chair and let out a long sigh. Rose entered the room.

“My lady, how are you feeling?”

“A little weary.”

She replied calmly. With her due date approaching, sitting down, lying down and standing up were all uncomfortable. With her leg still weak, she dared not move around freely for fear of falling. If anything happened to the baby, Rose and the other household staff would be blamed.

“Would you like a walk?”

“Yes, please.”

Even leaning on her cane wasn’t enough; she needed Rose’s support as well. Each time she felt the steady strength of that arm holding her up, Zephion came to mind. He had promised to be her legs for the rest of her life. He could never have imagined it would come to this.

“Soon, the child will be born.”

Rose spoke with careful hesitation. Reina tightened her grip on the cane.

“You’re all right, aren’t you, my lady?”

“What do you mean by all right?”

A short laugh slipped from her lips. Did she mean, was it all right to give birth to Kaelid’s child? Or was she asking if the child truly belonged to him? Her calm reply left the maid pressing her lips together.

“It’s Zephion’s child.”

“My lady…”

As if afraid someone might overhear, Rose glanced nervously around.

Since the very first day her pregnancy had been discovered, Reina had repeated more than once that the child in her belly was Zephion’s. And each time, Kaelid had flown into a fury.

‘What if the child truly resembles Zephion?’

Golden eyes—or black hair. If so, Kaelid might kill it instantly. If she had never given birth, it would have been one thing, but she couldn’t bear to see the child born only to die. That was why she had wished so desperately for the child to die in her womb. And yet, here she was, her due date drawing near. Now there was no answer left but to give birth.

“Rose, if… if the child looks like Zephion, would you take the baby and run?”

At her words, Rose’s eyes went wide.

“My lady…”

“I’ll make sure you have enough money.”

“How could I ever leave you behind?”

“You know as well as I do that man would never let Zephion’s child live.”

Rose clamped her lips shut. She knew it was a hopeless idea. Even if they lied and claimed the child had been stillborn, Kaelid would search until he found the corpse. If the baby resembled Zephion, he would chase it to the ends of the earth. A mere maid could never escape him—especially not with a newborn in her arms.

“At least… help me smuggle the child out.”

“And what would you do, my lady?”

“…I’d obtain the body of a stillborn child in advance…”

Her voice trailed off, and Reina let out a long, weary sigh.

“It’s a difficult thing. Yes, I know.”

“My lady…”

“If a child is born that looks like Kaelid, I will never see it again.”

She was certain she wouldn’t be able to bear herself if she gave birth to the child of the man she despised. Even if she couldn’t kill it, at the very least, she would never look at it for as long as she lived. She had not the slightest intention of playing at being a family with Kaelid.

‘If it truly is that man’s child, then…’

The words please kill it spun endlessly in her mouth, never spoken. It was far too cruel a burden to place on Rose. Yet, as if she understood what Reina wished to say, the maid’s face grew pale and she shook her head.

“Don’t say such dreadful things.”

Reina gave a bitter smile. Even as the day of birth drew near, such thoughts still plagued her. She felt as though the child inside her shrank back at her words. Placing her hand gently on her stomach, she let out a long, weary sigh.

“I had wished all my life never to bear a child.”

Rose, her expression shadowed, carefully helped her to her feet.

She hated herself for even thinking these things. For worrying about whose child it was. For being unable to love it fully. Had her life been ordinary, would she have been able to greet the thought of a child with pure joy?

‘Someone twisted like me could never raise a child properly.’

She had already known it when she had raised Zephion. She had no talent for it. She had never known how to treat a child, never been able to speak a single kind word. And how could she have? She had no memory of affection from her own parents to give.

Her father’s love—when he had still been alive—was so faint she could no longer recall it at all.

“I don’t know, Rose. I truly don’t know.”

Her sigh came out almost like a murmur. Day by day, her thoughts about the child grew more and more tangled.