“And you bore my child.”

“Your Majesty, I… I…”

“The child calls a man of peasant origin ‘father’, not me, her real father”.

“Una is…”

“You are!”

Swan thought of her daughter. Una was Theodor’s daughter. She shook her head.

Just as one could be born from the wrong womb, one could also be born from the wrong seed. Una was such a case. It was better for her to grow up with him as her father. Una truly resembled him – almost as if she had been meant to be Theodor’s daughter, but had been born from the wrong seed.

Perhaps that was why Atlion had never really welcomed Una. Swan had never felt that Una was Atlion’s daughter. At least not in her eyes. Just as she had never really been his wife, Una didn’t seem to be his child.

She blinked her tearful eyes. He was a man who seemed destined to have no family. Even if he had a wife, it wouldn’t be someone as burdensome as her. The same was true for the daughter she had given birth to.

“Una is…”

“Mirabella.”

He explained, as if to put an end to any further defiance by immediately changing her name.

Swan pressed her lips together. The sharp lines of her dry, pale face were striking, her lashes trembling. The eyes that had once shone like shards of azure glass were now as cold as an icy wall.

Her heart pounded heavily in her chest. His soft lips, carrying damp breaths, drew closer. Her hair stood on end, a chill running down her spine. Reflexively, she pushed against his shoulders and curled up into a ball. The moisture on her tear-stained eyelids stung sharply.

Atlion grasped her pale hands, clenched to her chest, and pulled her toward him. He expected her to be dragged helplessly, but Swan resisted, squirming and whining.

“Your Majesty!”

It was a scream. As she struggled in his embrace, a line of maids entered the room, carrying an oak tub of steaming water. Swan, still struggling to free herself, paused to look at them blankly.

Among the last to enter was a woman not wearing a maid’s uniform. She lifted the hem of her skirt slightly and curtsied respectfully. With her elegant golden hair pinned up, the woman looked graceful and dignified, befitting her age.

Despite seeing Swan struggling in Atlion’s arms, the woman who had curtsied with perfect composure simply set down an opulent golden satin gown alongside a dry towel before leaving the room. The maids, who had been scattering rose oil and petals into the bathwater, also bowed their heads before quietly departing.

Swan looked at him. Atlion picked her up effortlessly and carried her to the bathtub. Her body, weak and breathless, had no strength left to resist.

The physical toll on her had been overwhelming. On top of that, it had been some time since she had last eaten. Submerged in the warm water, Swan could only watch as he proceeded. She had expected him to call the maids again, but instead he concentrated calmly on bathing her himself.

As if she were an infant.

He moistened a towel and began gently cleaning the areas he had touched with his mouth and hands. Her shoulders. Her arms. Her br*ast, waist and stomach. His movements were careful as he wiped each area. Then, lifting her slightly, he guided her legs apart. Swan stood like a helpless child, water dripping down her body.

The freshly changed blio he was wearing was soon soaked by the drops, but he didn’t seem to care. The wet towel brushed gently against her most sensitive area, where the lingering pain had drawn her attention even without his touch. She winced and tried to pull away, but Atlion gently held her hips and continued to clean her slowly and gently.

Swan stared at the man as he inserted his fingers into her to remove the s*men. A wave of fear washed over her at the thought of becoming pregnant again. She had been pregnant then – when she had fled from him and wandered through the undergrowth.

It was inevitable; they hadn’t taken any precautions. She’d conceived Mirabella quickly back at the cabin, so birth control hadn’t been an issue. But this time was different. If Swan was worried about the possibility of pregnancy, it meant it was almost certain.

She watched as he bent his fingers to scrape out the remains of the sperm. Her hatred for him burned so fiercely that she thought it might consume her. She bit her lip hard enough to almost draw blood. She didn’t want to get pregnant again. She didn’t want to carry Atlion’s child ever again. A tear fell silently down her cheek.

“What if I get pregnant?”

The man looked up and his eyes met hers. Swan staggered slightly and he reached out to steady her, holding her hand as she struggled to regain her balance. Instead of turning away, she opened her mouth and spoke.

“I don’t want to conceive another bastard child.”

It was the one thing she couldn’t stand. More than the act of being forced to accept him, it was the aftermath that she feared. Having lost a child once, the fear had only grown stronger.

Her gaze dropped as the memories of that night’s walk through the forest resurfaced. The morning after she had fled with Theo, she had trembled uncontrollably, staring at the sheets stained with bright red blood. She hadn’t known she was pregnant until the doctor confirmed she had a miscarriage that morning. Since that day, Swan had never tried to get pregnant again.

Of course, her fear of pregnancy wasn’t the only reason she hadn’t shared a bed with Theo, but it certainly played a part. More than anything, she couldn’t bear the thought of carrying Atlion’s child again.

“You bore a bastard?”

Atlion asked calmly after pushing the sniffling woman back into the water. Swan, gripped by fear, looked up at him. No matter what he said, none of it made sense. Was he talking about the same thing? Were they remembering the same events? The gap between her understanding and his was unnerving.

“….”

“Not content with betraying your husband, you went so far as to carry this lowly peasant’s child?”

“What-what are you talking about?”

“What if?”

“I’m talking about your child, Your Majesty! Not Theo’s!”

Swan shot up and looked at him with fiery eyes, her frustration boiling over. Her gaze burned so intensely that it felt like her eyes might burst.

She was choking on the feeling of being completely misunderstood. Atlion seemed convinced that the illegitimate child she had mentioned was Theo’s. It was maddening, as if he had completely forgotten what his own brother had said about ‘bastards’.

“I was never pregnant with Theo’s child! He’s not ruthless enough to get me pregnant. Nor has he ever forced himself on me under the guise of marital rights!”

She thought of Theo, the man who was probably waiting for her at this very moment. The thought of him made her chest ache as if her heart would break in two. If he saw her in this state, forced and violated, he would surely blame himself, eyes brimming with tears.

Theo would never gnash his teeth over the fact that she had been touched by another man. He wouldn’t be angry about the purity she had unwillingly lost. Instead, he would have first considered how Swan felt about it all, how broken and hurt she was, and gently comforted her.

That was why Swan loved Theo. It didn’t matter that he was just a soldier or the son of a hunter. Theo was Theo. Not a man who took the name “Theo” but never lived up to it – a real Theo. For Swan, Theo was her destiny.

Her nose burned again, a familiar pain she hadn’t felt in a long time. A memory from long ago resurfaced – before her mother died, she had whispered the name of her biological father: Theodor. After learning that Theodor was her father’s name, Swan had dreamed of one day starting a family with a man of that name.

What did it matter if her father’s name was Theodor and her husband’s was Theodor? Nevertheless, Swan wanted to fulfil the dream that her mother couldn’t.

A harmonious family, the love of a father… Swan believed that if she could have all these things, she would finally be able to stand before her mother’s grave without shedding tears.

And so she had wished for this man to be her Theodor. It didn’t matter what his real name was. If he had lost his name, she hoped he would accept the one she had given him and live with her. How stupid and selfish her wish had been. It had been an empty wish. That was why her child had been treated the same way – as an illegitimate child.

She didn’t want to repeat such a foolish mistake again. And now, she had found the real Theo. The Theodor who loved her and made her happy. Unlike her mother’s Theodor, Swan’s Theodor hadn’t abandoned her or her daughter.

He never forced her into unwanted intimacy, nor did he use her as an excuse to shout or scold her. For these reasons, Swan saw Theo as a success that came after an irrevocable failure. Finding a man like him. Building a harmonious family with someone like him.

Despite knowing how terrible her past actions were, the fact that someone like Theo had been sent to her felt like a sign from her mother watching over her from above. Swan believed it was her mother’s way of ensuring she found happiness. And with Theo, she had found complete happiness.

“You didn’t sleep with him?”

The man who had gently washed her shoulders with warm water grabbed her br*ast. Swan swallowed a nasal sound and lowered her eyes to the hand holding her br*ast. She considered the absurdity of him handling the br*ast of a woman who had chosen to live as another man’s wife.