Whose Child Belongs to the Emperor - Chapter 8 - Part 8

Chapter 8 – Part 8

“Are you coming with us?”

“…”

It was an odd question, as if suggesting a stroll. Tenere slowly shook her head.

“I have to go back soon. My son is waiting.”

“Right. I heard you had a child. Through rumors.”

The calm voice seemed to confirm the speculations made so far.

Her mother knew about her, and yet she never came to visit.

It was a bit disheartening and also regretful. Tasha spoke.

“Is your health okay?”

It was a rather affectionate question. Perhaps she wanted to hear such words at least once. Tenere lifted the corners of her mouth slightly.

“I’ve never been so sick in my life, Mother.”

Whether she wanted to show some childishness after meeting her mother or not, an unexpected sobbing sound came out.

Tasha slowly reached out and gently stroked her daughter’s head.

“Yeah, you’ve been through a lot.”

“I’m on my way back home; would you like to come with me, Mother?”

Tenere tightly grasped the hand that had been stroking her head.

It wasn’t her intention to say such words. However, it was something she wanted to say at least once.

“He’s dead. You can stay at the manor or come to the palace. If you want, I can find a separate house for you.”

It was an invitation, even though she knew she might be rejected. While saying it, Tenere anticipated what kind of response Tasha would give.

Tasha smiled slyly.

“My home is the world, and the sky is my roof. I don’t want to stay in a small room anymore.”

It was the expected answer, so it wasn’t particularly disappointing. Tenere silently nodded her head.

Tasha looked at her daughter.

“Do you hate me?”

“I did.”

Tenere spoke honestly.

It was impossible not to feel resentment.

After Tasha left, Tenere had to inherit everything she had been through.

There was no way not to feel resentful towards her mother, who abandoned her here.

However, now that she had met her mother, the resentment and grudges she had accumulated seemed to melt away like snow in the sun.

Maybe she had anticipated this and didn’t want to come because she didn’t want to be in this situation. She didn’t want her loneliness, longing, and resentment to vanish into nothingness the moment she saw her mother’s face.

“I felt like I would wither and die if I stayed there any longer.”

Tasha opened her mouth softly.

“I thought you’d be okay since you were born and raised there.”

Whether there was a sense of guilt or remorse in that voice, Tenere smiled slightly as she looked into her mother’s downcast eyes.

“I know, Mother.”

“…”

“I didn’t come here to say such things.”

Then what had she come to talk about?

Tenere looked at her mother in hunting attire. Her short, dark hair fluttered over the white scarf.

From the old bow, calloused fingertips, and wrinkles to a healthy complexion, Tasha seemed very happy. She was much happier than when she was at the mansion.

“I just wanted to say that I have a child and that I’m doing well.”

Tasha looked at Tenere without saying anything. Then she took off the scarf she was wearing. The warmth touched her cool neck.

“Be happy, Tenere.”

“…”

“Even though I left you and went away, I’m happy. You should live much better than I did.”

It was a composed voice. Tenere nodded her head slowly.

“Goodbye, Mother. Stay healthy.”

“Yes.”

The farewell was as short and plain as the meeting. Tasha turned away without any lingering feelings.

Tenere played with the scarf around her neck.

“There was never a time when I didn’t love you.”

At that remark, Tenere stiffened. But Tasha didn’t wait for her daughter’s response and rushed towards the ship. 

Watching her mother board the ship, Tenere turned her body.

After a long journey, her back ached as if her spine was going to break.

“Sorry, James. It was tough, right? Let’s rest for a bit and then go.”

Tenere got off the horse quickly. James rubbed his nose against her back. Tenere, while hugging the horse’s neck, slowly stroked her mane.

The moment she moved her foot while holding the reins tightly, a loud sound roared.

Boo-boo.

The ship’s horn sounded, indicating that the ship was about to depart. Tenere stared at the scene for a long time.

From behind, the sound of hoofbeats reached her ears. Could it be the knights? Tenere slowly turned her head.

And she saw the person who had come to find her.

“…Your Majesty.”

* * *

‘Do not let anything shake you.’

A warning-like voice echoed in his ears.

Leonard rode his horse without focus.

He could not think of the banquet Viscount Hale had so ambitiously prepared, nor of the rest of the inspection; only one person occupied his mind.

Her long, wheat-colored hair, her eyes half-closed against sleep, her fingers drumming on the bed, her voice locked and slow, her embarrassed laugh.

He remembered the last time he saw her, and then he remembered the way she smiled, not knowing what to do.

When she fully trusted in his love, what expression did she make? During the times when she trusted him completely and carried her child without any worries.

The way her cheeks would flush as she ran to him, hugged him, and kissed him.

“I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

She must have said that, right? Apologizing for leaving abruptly, he promised not to leave his side anymore.

As he rode, Leonard thought about the past.

The image of her approaching with hesitant steps during the party held to welcome the new empress.

She, who was caught off guard and unable to speak a word, was restrained by the ladies around her.

He’ll never forget the way her eyes narrowed when he impulsively spoke to her.

The tension in her smiling face and the way she calmly placed her hand on his shoulder as she stepped.

As he watched her with an appraising gaze, he was a little relieved to see that there were no major flaws in her as an empress.

Tenere.

Tenere Evan.

He vividly remembered her small burst of laughter.

She knew how to make that expression, and she knew how to smile.

He repeated her name over and over again, even when considering any gift that wouldn’t matter who the recipient was or when he wrote her name on the marriage contract without any care.

He remembered her voice, her warmth, and the awkward way she’d handed him her handkerchief.

This revelation was a sudden realization. Why had he repeated her name so many times?

Was it some kind of anxiety that had told her not to hope for love?

Was it more important to calm his own anxiety than to see her nervousness?

Did he want to make excuses to his father, who was still hovering around him after his death?

‘I wanted someone without greed.’

‘Don’t ask me to love you.

He shouldn’t have said those things to her when she had no one to trust but herself, when she was anxious and afraid of the unfamiliar palace.

He shouldn’t have left her alone in her room the next day after the first night.

He could have held her hand and comforted her.

He could have reassured her that he knew that she was surprised by the proposal and thanked her for accepting it.

He could have told her that now that she was by his side, they would have a good life together.

He could show her around the vast palace and tell her that this is their home now.

“You said you wouldn’t treat me harshly and that you’d help me if I needed it? ”

Did he want to wash away any guilt he might have felt with his words of goodwill?

Did he want to scare her with his words, telling her not to be greedy and not to hope for love? But he didn’t want to seem like the bad guy in the end.

It was cowardice and deceit.

He didn’t even bother to look into his own heart because he couldn’t bring himself to disagree with his dead father.

He knew the thirst that came dozens of times a day; he knew where his gaze was going, but he closed his eyes and covered his ears like a child who knows he can’t find it if he covers his eyes.

He told himself over and over again that this wasn’t love, that it was just friendship, that he was indebted to the person who bore his child, and that he was sorry that he couldn’t reciprocate her feelings for him.

He wonders why he listened to his father all this time.

The voice that told her not to be controlled was the one that controlled him.

It was the voice that made him tell a bride on her first night not to hope for love and then hurt her again by denying his feelings, saying it was a false love.

‘If that’s not a ghost to be shaken off, I don’t know what is.’

He just wanted to release the love he had been holding tightly in his chest.

He denied it for fear of his father, who would order him to push her away the moment he realized what he was thinking. They all said it was for the sake of taking the Imperial Son, for the sake of the imperial succession, over and over again.

He repeated over and over again that this love was only a lie, but was it really a lie?

He wanted to tell her he loved her, to see her cheeks flush with joy at his love, and to keep confirming that she still loved him.

He deceived himself and her because he didn’t have the courage to admit the truth.

If he originally only wanted a child, he could have had someone else as his empress.

Considering the possibility of not finding her and his child, he should have focused on creating a new heir.

Even though he knew it deep down, why did he keep searching for her?

‘…never.’

This time, he will never let it slip away. He won’t repeat the same foolish mistake as before.