Even though there was already a noticeable size difference between us, being treated like a body pillow made it all the more obvious.
Xian had me completely wrapped in his arms, pulling me close like I was some sort of treasured comfort object.
With him so much taller than me, his every breath rumbled above my head, his deep and steady exhales reverberating through my very bones.
The mismatched rhythm of our breathing tangled awkwardly, setting my nerves on edge. I couldn’t help but squirm; the way his arm wrapped securely around my waist made my whole body itch with a strange, ticklish sensation.
He’s treating me like a beloved stuffed toy…
I sighed quietly, looking up at Xian, who was now as still as a statue.
Completely oblivious, of course. Is he finally sleeping soundly even without ASMR?
Fine. I’d sleep too.
But the unfamiliar warmth pressed against me was unbearably distracting.
We’d shared a bed countless times, so it wasn’t the first time we’d touched. And yet, somehow, this felt different—Xian felt different.
What’s wrong with me?
Then again, this was the same Xian who used to keep his distance, brushing me off with irritation. Now, he was pulling me closer, clinging to me with uncharacteristic neediness.
Was it because he felt sorry for me? Did seeing me weak and vulnerable stir some kind of protective instinct in him?
I never imagined a misunderstanding like this could lead to such a drastic change.
But how on earth was I supposed to clear up this ridiculous notion of being terminally ill?
Still, I’ve endured two weeks of this confinement. That’s more than enough.
With a determined pout, I resolved to escape the clutches of Xian the Overprotective Warden tomorrow, no matter what.
Little did I know, a major bombshell was waiting to fan the flames of my rebellion.
****
“Pfft!”
“Oh my, Your Grace, are you alright?”
Flustered, I hastily took the handkerchief offered to me and wiped my mouth. Then, stammering, I asked my cousin, who bore an uncanny resemblance to me:
“W-what did you just say?”
“Oh, well…” Eloise’s cheeks turned pink as she clasped her hands together.
“For two weeks now, you haven’t left the Empress’s Palace, and His Majesty has been flooding it with all kinds of luxurious things. On top of that, the best doctors are taking care of you day and night. So, rumors have started to spread…”
Eloise’s eyes sparkled as she added with a shy smile:
“Congratulations on your pregnancy, Your Grace!”
I was so shocked I almost bit my tongue.
Pregnant?! What in the world are they talking about?!
Where did they even get such an idea?!
“They said Her Grace needs absolute rest, and I almost couldn’t get permission to enter the Empress’s Palace myself. But His Majesty made an exception for me,” Eloise explained, her face glowing with excitement.
Apparently, because we were on good terms and she was my cousin, I had made the cut.
“I’m so excited to have a niece or nephew! Is it a prince or a princess? Or is it too early to tell?”
What is this nonsense? Now I’ve got a phantom baby on top of everything else?!
Frantically waving my hands, I tried to shut down the misunderstanding.
“No, that’s not—”
“Oh my! Do you already know the gender?”
I was about to burst out and demand who had dared to sign a lease in my perfectly healthy, cake-filled stomach, but I hesitated.
Wait. My health status is supposed to be a state secret. Can I even tell her the truth?
It wasn’t like Xian, that possessive black panther, would be unaware of such rumors.
If Eloise believes this, then Celeste Duchy and Appenzeller County probably have no clue about the real situation either.
A chilling thought struck me.
Did Xian allow this ridiculous rumor to spread to keep my “terminal illness” a secret?
But seriously, is a fake pregnancy better?!
If this got plastered across the Empire’s newspapers, there would be no undoing it. I’d go down in history as the greatest liar of all time.
And yet, I couldn’t very well say, “I’m not pregnant, I’m terminally ill—or actually, I’m not, I just coughed up blood once.”
If I did, rumors of a “pregnant Empress coughing up blood” might arise, and I’d probably end up chained to my bed in the Empress’s Palace for the rest of my life.
After changing my expression about fifty times in a few seconds, I decided to forgo the truth.
“Well… it’s still a little too early to say anything for sure.”
“Oh! Of course, that makes sense! I heard you can only confirm the baby’s gender later on.”
Eloise seemed to interpret my strained smile as typical “pregnancy mood swings” and began speaking in a soft, soothing tone, probably to preserve my “necessary rest.”
“Father and Uncle were so curious, but His Majesty said they couldn’t visit.”
Well, that was a relief. The last thing I needed was to face my father, the Duke of Celeste. Who knew what kind of mysterious curse might be triggered in his presence?
Pouting, I finished the rest of my tea.
“Your Grace, as a gift for my future niece or nephew, may I sing them a lullaby?” Eloise asked, glancing fondly at my suspiciously flat stomach.
Sorry, but all that’s in there is strawberry cake from earlier.
“Why a lullaby?”
“There’s a song my mother used to sing to me when I was in her belly. She and the late Duchess of Celeste were close, and they sang it together when they were both expecting us.”
Eloise began humming softly, explaining that it would be good for the baby’s emotional development if they heard the same lullaby.
“Oh, that’s lovely. Sure, go ahead,” I said, trying not to think about the absurdity of serenading a nonexistent baby.
Eloise beamed and began to sing.
-♬♩♬♪
The lullaby was soothing and sweet, one of the most beautiful melodies I’d ever heard. Lost in the music, I couldn’t help but clap in admiration when she finished.
“What a beautiful song! It’s my first time hearing it, but it made me feel so calm.”
“Really? I must have memorized it in the womb because it felt so familiar when I first heard it.”
Eloise smiled as she pulled out a pen.
“I’ll write the sheet music for you. You can memorize it and sing it to your baby—it’ll be wonderful!”
The melody was indeed perfect for a lullaby, designed to put anyone at ease.
Too bad I can’t sing to save my life, and there’s no baby to sing to anyway.
“Would you like to practice it now?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m terrible at singing. I’ll ask Lauren to teach me later.”
“Don’t say that! I want it to be a special gift from me to the baby,” Eloise insisted, her eyes sparkling.
But I really can’t sing. Once, the karaoke manager brought over a free drink, then left without a word after hearing me sing.
“It would be so nice to sing it with His Majesty—creating memories together as a family is great for the baby!”
Eloise’s enthusiasm was unrelenting, and I was starting to feel cornered.
Why is she so insistent? Was Leah good at singing?
Curious, I dug into my memories.
…Huh? There’s no memory of singing at all.
Like the blank slate of my memories of the Duke of Celeste, this part of Leah’s life was completely empty.
Strange. I remember so much about her daily habits—why not this?
For now, I focused on escaping the situation.
“Eloise, why are you so eager to make me sing?”
“Oh… I’m sorry, Your Grace. I just wanted to help the baby.”
Her teary eyes made me sigh.
Ever the emotional one. I shrugged and called for Lauren to collect the sheet music.
“Thanks for thinking of me. I’ll practice and sing it when the baby is born.”
If I ever develop the power to turn cake into a baby, that is.
*****
Later that day, I was interrupted by another visitor.
“Your Grace, the priest for your blessing has arrived.”
Blessing?
Apparently, Xian had requested it, pulling strings to bring the date forward despite such ceremonies being granted only once a year.
I greeted a nervous-looking young boy who introduced himself as Sevitze, a priest from the central temple.
“Nice to meet you, Priest Sevitze. I’m in your care,” I said, trying to ignore the guilt of wasting his talents on my perfectly healthy self.
As the blessing began, all servants were dismissed to maintain purity, leaving only the priest and me in the room.
The process would take an hour, but I was already bored, mentally drafting plans to clear my name of the “terminal illness” misunderstanding.
Then, suddenly—
“Ugh… ngh.”
The priest, who had begun emitting a faint glow, stopped and gasped, looking shaken.
“What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”
“I-I’m sorry. When I try to infuse Her Grace’s soul with the blessing, my power gets repelled.”
“What?!”
The young priest looked panicked, apologizing profusely. But I froze as a chilling realization dawned on me.
Repelled by my soul?
Could it be… the curse from the Duke of Celeste?
That mysterious ailment no medicine could cure, the sudden and unexplained bouts of illness—it all clicked into place.
“Priest Sevitze, could it be… an issue related to alchemy or curses?” I asked, feigning worry.
His reaction was immediate—he flinched in fear.
“Y-you mustn’t say such things! Twenty-six years ago, after the alchemist’s prophecy about His Majesty, the late Emperor banned all alchemy-related practices—ah!”
Sevitze clamped his hands over his mouth, realizing he’d said too much.
But it was too late.
The prophecy about Xian destroying the Empire if he developed emotions…
Everything was starting to fall into place.
