“You must produce an heir within one year.”

At the Empress’s condition, Damian’s grip on Seraphina tightened. He drew his chin in, teeth clenched, before speaking.

“That is an unreasonable condition.”

“What exactly is unreasonable about it? We are bringing a woman with many shortcomings into the imperial family. At the very least, a condition like this is necessary.”

She then turned her gaze toward the Margrave, who wore a troubled expression.

“To begin with, the only reason the Crown Prince insists on this marriage is because that girl is said to be pregnant. So this is only fitting.”

“Even so, one year is far too short, is it not?” the Margrave protested.

“Then let us make it two. If an heir is not born within two years of the marriage, the Crown Princess will be exiled.”

At his mother’s arbitrariness, Damian let out a hollow laugh.

“Are you serious?”

“You would not understand a mother’s heart. After going to such lengths to find you a suitable match, my son insists on tying himself to someone completely unsuitable. You have no idea how upsetting that is.”

“…‘That thing.’ ‘That wench.’ ‘Something inappropriate.’”

Damian fixed the Empress with a chilling stare, quietly repeating her words one by one. Then he cut in sharply,

“You will not speak to Seraphina like that again. Treat my partner — your future crown princess — with the respect she deserves.”

The Empress widened her eyes, taken aback by her son’s outburst. She raised her eyebrows, then curved her lips into a gentle smile.

“Very well. If you accept the condition.”

“If that is the only way you will grant permission for the marriage—then yes. I accept.”

Damian spoke coldly and turned to the Margrave. After offering him his thanks respectfully, he tightened his grip on Seraphina’s hand.

“Remember this: From this moment on, Seraphina Lindenrosen belongs to me.”

Seraphina lowered her gaze to the Crown Prince’s hand, which was clasping hers.

The veins on the back of his hand stood out, appearing almost twice the size of hers.

It was as though he would never let her go.

***

The Crown Prince’s wedding was magnificent beyond measure.

It was hard to believe that such a grand event had been planned and organized in such a short timeframe — just a month after the decision to marry was made.

Seraphina was caught up in the preparations, feeling as though she had been swept into a tidal wave. Everything progressed at a dizzying pace, and limited time was used as an excuse for everything.

Unfamiliar with imperial etiquette, she left everything in Damian’s capable hands. He oversaw everything, from her gown and jewelry selection to the guest list and even the smallest details. She simply followed his lead. Even if she had been given responsibility, she would not have known where to begin.

Imperial weddings involved matters that were both crucial and endlessly complicated. For example, there was the question of which margraves and marquesses should be seated closest to the imperial family, and where the young ladies should sit. Not to mention countless other considerations!

Unlike Seraphina, Damian had answers to everything. He demonstrated great thoughtfulness by promoting Rosalynde to head maid and assigning her to serve Seraphina personally.

Rosalynde congratulated Seraphina warmly, admitting that she was envious of her for having gained the perfect husband in the Crown Prince.

However, even as she accepted her friend’s heartfelt congratulations, Seraphina couldn’t shake off a quiet unease.

Was this marriage truly the right choice?

She had never properly responded to Damian’s proposal. Before she could, the Margrave, the Empress and Damian himself had decided everything. Even the two-year time limit that made the marriage feel like a fixed-term sentence had been agreed without her input.

Damian mentioned the Empress’s condition as though it were nothing more than a passing remark. Since it was bound to happen anyway, he said, there was no need for her to feel burdened by it.

But was that really true?

No matter how hard she tried, Seraphina could not shake off the unease tightening around her heart.

Her mother had suffered multiple miscarriages before finally giving birth, a process which proved fatal.

However, there was no guarantee that mother and daughter would share the same fate. Nevertheless, from a young age, Seraphina had carried a vague yet persistent fear of childbirth. The idea that bearing a child could cost a woman her life had been etched deeply into her mind.

Yet the Empress treated her as though she were a toy.

Produce a child.

Present a healthy heir.

From before the wedding and even after she became Crown Princess, the relentless pressure from the Empress never abated.

“Ignore it.”

Damian brushed off the concern Seraphina had voiced so cautiously. Tugging at his cravat, he spoke indifferently.

“You don’t need to pay attention to everything the Empress says. Just let it go in one ear and out the other.”

“It’s not that easy.”

Seraphina watched Damian in silence as the attendants helped him change.

It was only now, late into the night, that she truly saw his face for the first time that day, after he had spent hours in meetings. Perhaps it was because preparations for the Founding Festival were in full swing, but the refined lines of his handsome features were slightly roughened by fatigue.

“What matters is that you’re my wife. That’s all you need to think about.”

Now dressed in his loungewear, Damian dismissed the attendants and gestured for her to come closer as he settled onto the sofa.

When she approached, he pulled her onto his lap. The firmness of his thigh — solid as stone — was uncomfortable, but Seraphina endured it in silence. After all, it was Damian’s favorite position.

“When we spent a cycle together last time… I didn’t end up getting pregnant.”

As Seraphina spoke softly, Damian ran his fingers gently through her hair. Brushing her brown locks forward, he lowered his nose to her pale nape and inhaled deeply, as though savoring her pheromones.

“Hm… yes, that’s right…”

“So… when the next cycle comes, what if we try a little harder?”

“……”

“Damian?”

Seraphina turned her head as she spoke seriously. Damian, who had been breathing in her scent with his eyes closed, slowly opened them.

“Hm? Sorry—what did you say?”

“The next cycle… no, never mind.”

In the end, Seraphina swallowed her words and turned away once more.

How much courage had it taken to even bring the subject up?

She quietly clenched her hands in her lap. Suggesting intimacy — asking him to tie her up — felt impossible. Rosalynde had said he was her husband, so what was the problem? But it was never that simple.

Damian did not love her the way Rosalynde seemed to think he did.

He had married her purely out of a sense of responsibility.

He had emphasized this countless times while securing the Empress’s approval for the marriage. Damian was a man governed by an unyielding sense of duty. Although he hadn’t particularly wanted Seraphina, he proposed simply because he had impregnated her.

After the wedding, Damian never touched her. He claimed that, if there was any chance she might be pregnant, intimacy would not be good for the child.

However, contrary to expectations, Seraphina was not pregnant.

When this became known, Damian remained calm. He simply said, “Is that so?” with an indifferent expression.

He still did not hold her.

Time passed relentlessly, yet he remained untroubled.

“Have you forgotten the terms of your marriage, Crown Princess?”

The Empress smiled as she spoke, her words tightening around Seraphina’s throat as though she were gripping it. Seraphina had spoken about it so openly at high-society gatherings that everyone knew her position as Crown Princess was time-limited.

Then there was Lady Mireille’s sharp, cold, unrelenting gaze. She often looked at Seraphina as though she wished she would simply vanish. As if Seraphina were a despicable woman who had stolen someone’s fiancé.

It was no wonder Seraphina felt as though she were being burned alive from the inside.

Childbirth terrified her.

But she hated this suffocating uncertainty even more.

If it was something she would have to face eventually, she wanted it over with as soon as possible.

Yet Damian did not understand what was weighing so heavily on her heart.

He wrapped a large hand around her waist and rested his chin against her shoulder. Then, slowly, he began to speak.