Have My Child - Chapter 16

Even so, after that, the atmosphere wasn’t bad.

“The government office is in complete chaos right now, preparing for the hunting event. From what I’ve heard, Commander Helares will be representing the administration.”

The annual hunting competition, held in late autumn before winter set in, was a long-standing tradition in our country.

At the foot of the Chianti Mountains, which surrounded the outskirts of the capital, countless wild animals roamed. Since ancient times, their numbers — including deer, wolves and wild dogs — would sometimes grow too large, threatening people and their crops. These competitions were held at regular intervals to maintain this balance.

Hunting required either a bow or a firearm.

As such weap*ns were expensive and difficult to obtain without noble status, the competition had long been the preserve of the upper class — nobles and royalty alike.

But times had changed. In this new age of liberalism, participation was opened up to a wider range of people.

Now, anyone with the proper weapon and the skill to use it — whether bourgeois, merchant, or common citizen — could take part.

Given my husband’s reputation in such matters, it seemed only natural that he would participate as the government’s representative.

“As for me, I’m merely joining to make up the numbers—for the honor of the event.”

“Then Sienna should attend as well. It’s tradition—romantic, even—for a lover or wife to tie a handkerchief onto the participant’s weapon, wishing for their safe return.”

Unless I was really unwell, it seemed that I had no choice but to go.

After all, I couldn’t let him leave without a handkerchief when everyone else had one.

I nodded in agreement, picked up a piece of fruit and popped it in my mouth.

The sweet-and-sour juice spread across my tongue, lifting my mood just enough to raise the faintest smile.

Then our eyes met.

Startled, I looked away as though I had been burned.

Every time I glanced at him, it felt as though our gazes collided.

This meant that he had been watching me all along.

With a guest sitting right in front of us, why was he staring so intently?

It was unbearably embarrassing.

“Sienna. I’ve been thinking.”

Just before stepping into his carriage, Jeremy spoke quietly.

“From a man’s perspective… if I’m being honest… I think Helares cares about you more than—”

More than what?

I leaned in, waiting for him to finish, but Jeremy drew a sharp breath and pressed his lips together, as if he had nearly spoken something forbidden.

“…No. Forget it. But about the pregnancy… are you really alright?”

“Yes. I’ve made up my mind. I never thought I was in a condition where I could become pregnant, but… it’s already happened. I’ll do my best, as much as I can.”

“I see. If that’s how you feel, then… alright. But my offer still stands. I hope you won’t forget it.”

It was an offer to help me seek refuge in the Holy Kingdom of Leial should the need ever arise.

Given my current situation, it seemed unlikely that I would ever need it.

Nevertheless, I took it as a sign of Jeremy’s concern for me.

I nodded and offered him a small smile in return.

***

The day of the hunting event dawned.

With each passing day, the weather had grown colder. In the morning, if I opened the window and breathed out, I could see my breath in the air.

“You shouldn’t come. If you catch a cold for no reason, it’ll only cause trouble.”

My husband was still worrying over me—or rather, over the child’s health, of course—but in any case, he seemed concerned that I might fall ill if I came along.

“So while everyone else has their wives tying handkerchiefs to their weap*ns, you’re just going to stand there alone? The reporters will obviously make a fuss about it—say it’s proof of a troubled marriage or something equally ridiculous.”

“Then I’ll stop the articles.”

“Try not to control the press too much. You’ll only get caught for it.”

“It’ll be colder at the foot of the mountain than it is here. Bundle up as much as you can.”

As he spoke, he carefully tightened the ties of my cloak and secured them with a firm, deliberate touch.

I was already dressed for the winter weather in the outfit he had chosen for me and wrapped up in a soft, furry scarf and shawl. Mink gloves, said to have been imported from abroad, covered my hands. I had also brought the handkerchief that I had personally selected to tie onto his weapon.

Nestled at the foot of the Chianti range on the outskirts of the capital, Montario Mountain was renowned for its rich ecosystem and beauty, shaped by towering landscapes and gentle elevations.

On the way to the venue, I found myself captivated by the scenery.

Waterfalls spilled down massive cliffs, breaking into fine mist as they struck the rocks below.

The sight held me completely spellbound.

Ah, so this was what they meant by prenatal care.

It was just as cold as my husband had warned, but I was dressed so warmly that I could tolerate the chill.

The venue itself was far more magnificent than I had imagined.

Large tents had been erected for the spectators, with thousands of chairs neatly arranged beneath them.

As the event was open to the public, the grounds were filled with people, many of whom were attending their first hunting competition, as well as reporters eager to capture every moment.

There were also booths promoting government initiatives, as well as displays from inventors and merchants showcasing their latest creations.

I thought back to the hunting competitions I had attended as a princess of the Kingdom of Estante. Those had been little more than elaborate social gatherings for the nobility, filled with pretense, vanity, and hollow refinement.

But now, it had become something entirely different.

Yes, it was a stage for government propaganda, but it also resembled a festival for the people.

Laura and I took our seats in the section prepared for us and waited quietly for the event to begin.

I could feel curious gazes lingering on me, but I forced myself to ignore them.

The opening ceremony was brief.

Before the hunting competition officially began, it seemed that the government forces were holding a marksmanship demonstration as part of the pre-event programme.

“Oh, my lady! Master is coming out!”

Laura exclaimed in delight, as though she were seeing something wonderful.

The one chosen to fire the ceremonial shot signaling the start of the event was none other than my husband.

So that was what he had meant when he said he was only making an honorary appearance to ensure the event’s success.

“To be honest, I’m not just saying this because he’s my employer—he really is very handsome.”

Dressed in traditional hunting attire, my husband looked exactly as society had always said he did: the handsomest man in the Republic, a living, breathing portrait.

His black hair was swept neatly back from his forehead.

His blue eyes were calm and unwavering.

Every feature of his face was striking and almost too perfectly shaped.

Tall, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, he carried himself with effortless authority. Even if he did spend time on his appearance, there was no denying the composure and dignity he displayed.

With a hunting rifle rather than a military weapon in hand, he took hardly any time to aim — yet every shot landed squarely in the center, even on distant targets.

I had heard that he had never served as a sniper, so how could he be so skilled?

It made me realize once again that a true hero is a hero in every sense.

The hunting competition was set to last for two hours, and to prevent unnecessary sl*ughter, each participant was limited in the number of animals they could hunt.

The announcer continued, explaining that the rankings would be determined by the type and weight of the animals captured.

Then, just before the participants mounted their horses, there was a brief pause.

“My lady! It must be time to tie the handkerchief on for him. You have to go now—quickly!”

I fidgeted with the handkerchief, feeling increasingly embarrassed, when Laura gently pushed me forward.

Though its meaning had faded over time, this tradition had once held great significance.

In the past, when hunting meant risking one’s life, wives and lovers would tie handkerchiefs to the weap*ns of the hunters, with each knot representing a quiet, desperate prayer for their safe return.

But did I even have the right to do this for him?

He would probably hate it.

With my head lowered, I stepped forward hesitantly, inching my way towards him.

The low murmur of the crowd made it unmistakably clear that they were talking about me.

Just as I began to shrink beneath the weight of their attention, regretting coming here more and more,

“Sienna.”

My husband called my name.

I had been staring at the ground, but when he called, I finally looked up to meet his gaze.

His eyes were clear, cold and beautiful, like a still lake, and they held my reflection.

Taking a quiet breath, I slipped off my thick gloves and fumbled for the handkerchief.

Taking care not to obstruct his view, I tied it to the end of his rifle.

However, my fingers were stiff from the cold, so I tied an uneven knot.