***

Though the war still raged, as the day of birth drew near Kaelid returned to the estate. Perhaps some instinct warned him that Reina might harm the child once it was born.

When the physician’s predicted date arrived, the labor pains began—almost as if by fate. Reina screamed, the agony so fierce she thought she would never want to endure such a thing again.

Despite the midwife’s orders to wait outside, Kaelid stayed, watching as the child came into the world.

Even though her screams tore through the room, fear gnawed at her. Sweat drenched her face and she turned her gaze away, hiding the unease in her eyes. Her consciousness flickered in and out; each time it returned, she desperately prayed that the child would resemble her.

As the hours dragged on, Kaelid’s face grew steadily more rigid. The air was thick with the sharp scent of blood. Her vision was so blurred that she could no longer tell whether it was day or night. Just as the haze threatened to swallow her whole, a baby’s cry rang out.

“Haa… haah…”

Utterly exhausted, Reina blinked weakly.

“A son.”

The midwife said joyfully. After wiping the crying infant only roughly clean, she swaddled him and handed him first to Kaelid.

From where she lay on the bed, Reina stared upward blankly. She was too drained to focus, unable to read what expression lay on the man’s face.

“…Rose.”

“My lady.”

Perhaps sensing her fear, Rose whispered anxiously, gently wiping the sweat from her clammy forehead.

The baby’s cries quickly quieted. Only Reina’s ragged breathing filled the room.

For a long while, Kaelid gazed down at the tiny child in his arms. At last, he stepped closer, his expression still stone-hard.

“…”

Rose hesitated, then carefully withdrew.

“You’d die bearing another.”

Kaelid’s voice carried a trace of irritation as he set the infant down beside Reina.

At last, she could see him clearly. Though blotched here and there with blood, the pale platinum hair was unmistakable. Reina released a sigh of relief in her heart as she touched the child’s cheek.

“Waaah…”

The baby squirmed as if to protest her touch, eyes fluttering halfway open. Still a little clouded, yet their color was unmistakably like hers.

“Ahh…”

An unbidden sound of relief escaped her lips. Just as she had prayed so fervently, the child looked exactly like her—so much so that no one could tell who the father was.

Kaelid seemed faintly displeased by it, but said nothing.

“One child is enough.”

After saying that, the man lowered his head and pressed his lips firmly to her sweat-soaked brow. Should she be grateful for those words? She couldn’t tell. Whether he sensed the scorn curling in her thoughts or not, his large hand gently smoothed her damp hair.

“When the war is over, I’ll make you the marchioness.”

At those words, Reina burst out laughing.

‘Will you even win the war?’

The princess was said to have the advantage. Even in her exhaustion, the thought amused her. Kaelid, mistaking her laugh for joy, gave a satisfied smile.

“Rest now.”

He lifted the child into his arms once more and left the room.

The maids came in, tidying the chaos of the bed and wiping her sweat-soaked body with warm towels. Her whole body ached. When only Rose remained, she took Reina’s hand and whispered softly,

“It’s a blessing.”

“…Yes.”

Reina nodded weakly. She was glad she had not wanted to kill the child after birth, glad the baby had survived. Rose tucked the blankets around her and slipped quietly out.

Her body was in pain, her strength gone, and yet her mind felt sharply clear.

‘He definitely looks like Zephion.’

She knew well what he had looked like as a child. Though the baby was still newborn and she had not studied his features closely, the shape of his nose, the curve of his eyes—she was certain. The child was Zephion’s.

‘What should I do when the war ends?’

Kaelid had spoken as though the emperor’s victory was assured, but Reina knew better. The battle remained undecided, yet the princess was steadily tearing down all that belonged to the emperor. And at the vanguard—was Zephion.

If they lost, House Berend would fall. And Reina, who had long belonged to that house, would share its fate.

‘And Kaelid swore he would acknowledge the child as his…’

That would make the baby part of House Berend. To erase all future threats, Kaelid would kill him.

Her head throbbed. To think she had to weigh life and death over a single child. She let out a long, weary sigh.

‘I must find a way—before the war ends.’

She would have to recover her strength as much as possible before then. Could she truly manage to flee with a newborn in her arms? She found herself wishing—though it pained her to think it—that House Berend could hold out a little longer. At least long enough for her to escape with the child.

Lost deep in thought, Reina slowly closed her eyes. Darkness swallowed her whole.

***

“Why aren’t they attacking?”

At Zephion’s question, the man beside him shrugged.

“Because the Marquis of Berend is absent, most likely.”

“The Marquis of Berend is absent?”

“Yes. They say a child is being born.”

At that, Zephion’s eyes widened.

“A child?”

Had Kaelid married? He searched his memory but recalled no such news. Only a few months after Reina’s brief flight with him, the war had begun—there hadn’t been time for a marriage.

As Zephion’s brow furrowed, his adjutant leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

“It’s an open secret, but the Marquis of Berend is said to share a bed with his younger sister.”

Zephion’s fist clenched tight. He knew better than anyone that it was true. He had seen it with his own eyes, day after day, since childhood.

“They say the younger sister is the one giving birth. Her name was… Reina, I believe.”

“Reina. Reina Berend.”

“Ah, yes. Reina Berend. Considering she’s grown older now, yet he’s never married her off and keeps her close… it seems the rumors must be true.”

Pregnant. Zephion ground his teeth.

‘Kaelid’s child?’

The face of the woman who had once told him she could not conceive flashed through his mind. Were all her words lies? Was there any truth at all in what Reina had said or done?

“In any case, it’s said she’s bearing a child without a husband. The rumor spreads that the Marquis of Berend is the father.”

“So right now… she’s giving birth.”

“Which is why the Marquis abandoned the war to rush back.”

He counted the days. Judging by the likely time of conception, it was around the day Kaelid had come for her. At that realization, his heart wavered. Could it be—his child? The thought struck him unbidden, and Zephion stiffened, his back snapping straight.

‘Impossible.’

The odds were far higher that it was that man’s. Hadn’t she, right before his eyes, taken Kaelid’s seed deep into her belly that very day? And though the dates overlapped if stretched to the limit, the chance was slim. Besides, from that day onward, she had surely shared his bed again and again.

“To think he’d have a child with his own sister.”

His adjutant shook his head, muttering.

“Still, as the Marquis of Berend’s firstborn, he’ll acknowledge the child as his. The man’s not young anymore.”

“What if the woman bore another man’s child?”

“Do you think the Marquis would stand for that? If the rumors of her being his mistress are true, a man like him would never simply watch.”

That was true. Zephion lowered his gaze slightly. He had long known that Reina sometimes lay with Yuta as well. She had never once let it show outwardly, but he had realized long ago that his master and closest friend looked at her as a woman.

‘If the child were Yuta’s, Kaelid would never leave it alive.’

By that reckoning, the child she carried was almost certainly Kaelid’s. The man wasn’t a fool, and with his obsessive nature, he would have calculated the dates carefully.

“…Ha.”

Zephion let out a dry laugh. Her pleas for freedom and her words of love had clearly been lies. Otherwise, how could she have returned to Kaelid so readily, even bearing his child? With the birth now so imminent, it was evident that she had cherished the child all along. Had she truly hated Kaelid, as she claimed, she would have found a way to terminate the pregnancy.

“What a pity. To bear the Marquis of Berend’s child at a time like this.”

The man muttered with a sigh.

“Her Highness the Princess will never allow it to live.”

“She shouldn’t.”

Zephion’s voice was as hard as stone. He hated everything about House Berend: Kaelid, Reina, and the child she had borne, who seemed to mock him.

His hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword. He wondered what she would say if he held a blade to her throat. Would she try to ensnare him with lies again? Would she beguile him with her beauty as she had done with other men?

‘It doesn’t matter anymore.’

His hatred ran too deep for him to be swayed by something so trivial. Hadn’t she deceived him with lies all her life?

A few days later, word spread that Kaelid had acknowledged the child born of his sister as his son.

At the news, Zephion only laughed. Clearly, the child truly was that man’s. His resentment toward Reina sank even deeper.