Hari curled up under the blanket. No one had imprisoned her, but she had imprisoned herself in the room. She didn’t want to think about anything or do anything.

For days, no one spoke to Hari, who lay powerlessly. Hari muttered to herself while staring at the wall. The maid who quietly brought food and left glanced fearfully at Hari, who mumbled like someone who had lost her mind.

However, Hari wasn’t as insane as she appeared. She was simply thinking. What would Achilleon say about her and the child, what punishment would he impose, and what should she do then?

She waited nervously for Achilleon to visit, but he hadn’t come to see her once since returning to the palace. Though he seemed to receive occasional reports about her.

Hari lay face down on the bed, watching the blazing fireplace.

‘Oh wait, they said I shouldn’t lie like this…’

She turned back to a proper position on the bed that was warm to the point of being hot. Though her confinement was no different from before, every moment wasn’t filled with constant tension like when she was with Antor. Or perhaps she had given up?

“How about proceeding with the trial schedule after the succession ceremony, Your Majesty? A judgment made as king would have greater influence, so that would be better.”

“High Priest Egoto has been sentenced to exile, so I’ll prepare a ship bound for Mento Island.”

“The Second Prince confined in the Tower of Purification bit a guard’s ear. This isn’t the first time. He’s been threatening the guards with all sorts of curses and insults since being imprisoned. What should we do?”

“Knock him unconscious.”

Achilleon’s bedroom had an attached reception room, and she could occasionally hear conversations from there. In the silence, the murmuring voices reached her ears more clearly. 

The content was roughly about punishing those involved in this rebellion. The high priest would be exiled, Antor confined. Hari crawled toward the door.

‘What will happen to me?’

Just then, she heard Achilleon’s secretary whispering secretly.

“Regarding the late king’s poisoning incident. Isthmia has sent an informant, but the testimony that ‘they saw the Second Prince put poison in the king’s wine cup’ won’t be decisive enough evidence to be effective in court. To prove that the Second Prince was the poisoner…”

Hari flinched while pressing her ear to the door. Silence fell, seemingly everyone’s invisible gaze turning toward the door where Hari was.

“We need to prove that the Second Prince used sacred power.”

That meant they would have to punish his accomplice Margharita as well. Achilleon and his secretaries seemed to roughly know the inside story of the poisoning incident. Her breath caught involuntarily. Hari curled up tightly and pressed down on her pounding heart.

“Then Miss Hari would…”

“That incident will be buried.”

“Then you mean you won’t reveal the truth about the late king’s death?”

“We can’t announce it clearly. Just fabricate enough to plant conviction in people’s minds that Antor was the culprit and wrap up the case appropriately.”

“Yes, understood. Then what will you do about Miss Hari’s punishment?”

“…I’ll postpone it.”

“There might be talk among the nobles. Moreover, the young lady isn’t alone, is she? Even that child…”

“Enough. Whether the child is truly Antor’s bloodline will need to be examined after birth. For now it’s unnecessary talk, so make sure to keep the nobles’ mouths shut appropriately.”

Only after the secretaries withdrew did the tension leave her body. Her limbs, damp with cold sweat, went limp. She had nearly died without even attempting to escape.

But why was Achilleon trying to cover up her crime?

Relief was brief before doubt arose, but soon a more intense hunger covered the doubt. She realized that due to excessive tension, she hadn’t eaten anything from morning until now, late afternoon.

Hari, who had been sitting slumped by the door, glanced at the large food cover on the table. The untouched meal had been replaced twice, and warm steam was still rising from the potage.

‘A succession ceremony.’

So Achilleon would become king after all. Actually, in the prophetic dream, the owner of the throne was only shown in silhouette.

Though the two brothers had similar builds and couldn’t be distinguished by silhouette alone, Hari had unconsciously believed it was Achilleon. Or perhaps she had wanted to believe it.

“Then this child will be the king’s child.”

‘I really need to escape.’

She knew better than anyone the miserable life spent in the palace while being criticized for her origins. At first she had hated this baby to death, but she didn’t want it to grow up receiving the same treatment she had.

She had happy childhood memories that helped her endure difficult times, but this child?

It would be scorned from the moment it was born. If acknowledged as Achilleon’s child, it would face contempt and rivalry for being the offspring of a slave-born mistress, and if acknowledged as Antor’s child, it couldn’t survive as the bloodline of a traitor.

‘D*mn Antor.’

Hari shook her head. She hated both Achilleon and Antor.

If only no one were this child’s father…

Then she felt she could love this child. With that thought, this child truly seemed like entirely her own, unrelated to Achilleon. Hari carefully caressed her belly. She felt strange. As bitterness washed over her, she regretted having hated the child so cruelly.

“I’m sorry.”

Whatever happened, this would be the child who would become her one and only family in the world. She would have family again after losing hers. It meant she wouldn’t have to live alone without anyone to lean on. Hari forced herself to stand up.

Then she crawled to the table and began eating the still-warm potage.

To protect her family, to safely escape from here together and live freely, she needed to eat and gain strength. This wasn’t the time to lie around powerlessly.

Then, mysteriously, a will she hadn’t possessed began to shine little by little. Very small affection and curiosity grew for the bean-sized living being. Would it be a girl or a boy?

She hoped it would be a girl. She had no male siblings and the only man she’d been close to was Achilleon, so if a boy were born, she felt she’d be flustered not knowing how to raise him.

‘If it’s a girl, I know well what she’d like…’

She could play the lyre for her, read books to her, make flower necklaces. Oh, if it’s a boy, would he like a toy wooden sword? She knew how to handle a sword.

Having various random thoughts while eating improved her mood. Hari rang the bell to call a maid. When she said she wanted to take a walk, the maid seemed to find the request quite unexpected and said she would ask His Majesty the Third Prince first.

But it was Achilleon who appeared shortly after.

“You want to take a walk?”

Surprised by the low voice from the doorway, she turned her head. But seeing Achilleon made her even more startled. The succession ceremony was indeed soon. The man standing awkwardly at the back of the bedroom was different from the last appearance she remembered.

He was still thin, making his sharp atmosphere prominent, but his neat hair and splendid ceremonial clothes made him unmistakably a king. A soft cream-colored silk himation embroidered with grape vine decorations.

The gold accessories wrapped around his wrists and waist were snake-shaped, symbolizing the king. There was no trace of the precarious appearance she’d seen on the battlefield. Her face reddened at the dignity that contrasted so sharply with her own pitiful crouched position on the bed.

“Yes, the physician said I should move my body within reasonable limits.”

She hurriedly got up. The gap in their social status had always been clear, but she didn’t know why she felt so embarrassed now. Feeling his gaze staring directly at her belly, she involuntarily swallowed dry saliva.

‘Does he think it’s disgusting?’

No, if Achilleon thought she was disgusting and threw her out, that would actually be joyful. But when Achilleon actually frowned, her heart sank and Hari pulled the blanket over her belly.

“Is it not allowed?”

“Taking a walk is fine, but I’ll accompany you.”

She didn’t want that… She was already uncomfortable not knowing what that man was thinking. Hari had betrayed him and was known to be carrying a traitor’s child.

She deserved to die, yet far from doing so, he consistently sent physicians and food.

While looking at her and the child with such apparent disgust.

‘What does this person want to do with me?’

Why doesn’t he say anything about the betrayal? When did she start having an affair with Antor, whether there was truly not a single point of sincerity in her actions toward Achilleon?

Why doesn’t he ask?

She was staring tensely again when Achilleon approached and gently placed his hand on her clenched fist.

“From your expression, you seem unwilling, but it can’t be helped.”

His large hand was warm, so Hari stood up awkwardly. Perhaps remembering the physician’s words to act gently?

Though his expression remained unreadable, his touch helping Hari up from the bed was very careful. He looked at Hari’s belly with what seemed like pain for a moment, then turned his gaze away.

“I’ll send a maid, so take your time changing clothes and come out.”