Chapter 123

When Elise opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the slanted light of sunset filtering through the window. She was lying in a plush bed, cocooned in a heavy goose-down quilt. Her vision gradually cleared.

“So I collapsed again,” she muttered to herself, her body feeling leaden. Elise glanced around the room.

Unlike the grand drawing room, this space was smaller and more intimate. The dark red velvet canopy, coupled with the lace-adorned quilt, created a sense of seclusion.

Elise was not alone. The sound of clicking heels approached, and the canopy was roughly pulled aside.

“You’re awake. I thought you’d be out until tomorrow,” Genovia said, her voice carrying a hint of impatience. She pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, her arms crossed. “The doctor has been here.”

Elise’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Did you know? Or were you completely unaware?” Genovia asked, her tone sharp.

“I didn’t know when I left…” Elise replied, her voice barely a whisper.

“Right, of course. If you’d known you were pregnant, you wouldn’t have been so reckless,” Genovia said, her expression hardening.

Genovia’s disapproving mutter felt like a confirmation. Elise wasn’t as shocked as she might have imagined. Perhaps she had sensed it before collapsing.

A wave of numbness washed over her. Her body felt heavy, like waterlogged cotton, while her mind seemed to float away.

Elise absentmindedly rubbed her belly, her thoughts a jumble. I’m pregnant, she realized. With that man’s child. Inside my body. In this shabby, frail frame…

Especially at a time when she was being pushed to the brink, as if it were some cruel twist of fate.

Elise was unable to speak. “Consider yourself lucky,” Genovia scolded. “Even doctors with some reputation don’t often have experience treating women carrying the child of a dragon. But the new specialist assigned to me is quite an exceptional physician. She has treated women like you before, so the diagnosis was quick.”

Elise’s heart pounded. She knew what the response would be. “…What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“It means there’s a risk of miscarriage,” Genovia replied.

A cold dread settled in Elise’s stomach. “There’s been some bleeding as well,” Genovia continued.

Elise’s pale complexion turned an even paler shade. She felt as though all the blood in her body was draining away. She realized her clothes, including her underwear, had been changed.

“It’s not immediately dangerous, but you need to be extremely careful,” Genovia said.

“W-what’s wrong…?” Elise asked, her voice weak.

“Do you really need to ask? Does it look like there’s a single part of your body that’s intact?” Genovia replied, her tone incredulous.

“Your body is run down, you’ve got a cold, you’re malnourished, and your energy is completely depleted. They couldn’t even find a pulse. It’s a miracle you made it here in such a pitiful state!”

Elise had known she was weak, but Genovia’s firsthand assessment was a shock. It seemed almost impossible for someone to be so utterly debilitated. The fact that she was pregnant was miraculous, and safely delivering the baby seemed nearly inconceivable.

It was well-known that carrying a dragon’s child was a harsh and brutal ordeal for the mother. From conception to childbirth, there was no respite. Many mothers faced tragic ends due to the strain.

Dr. Harrison had speculated that being a member of the Argan Imperial Family, known for producing powerful sorcerers, might mean a different fate. But it was no more than a guess.

“Exactly what did you do on the way here to end up so badly off, Your Highness?” Genovia demanded, her voice laced with anger.

Elise looked at her with a strange expression. “If the journey to this mansion hadn’t been so arduous, I wouldn’t have had any bleeding.”

“That’s—” Genovia began, her anger momentarily flaring. She bit her lip, frustrated. She couldn’t think of a suitable counterargument.

“…If I had known, I would have brought you here carefully. Why would I intentionally have you dragged roughly? If the baby had actually been lost, the responsibility would have been entirely mine!”

Genovia’s almost self-pitying defense did little to comfort Elise.

Still biting her lip, Genovia grudgingly said, “Fine, I apologize for the rough handling. …At any rate, I’ve hidden you here and arranged for treatment. The doctor left some medicine, so drink it. It’s supposed to be good for the uterus.”

Elise complied, sitting up and drinking the bitter concoction of herbs. The taste was barely noticeable, and she felt less nauseous.

The medicine took effect quickly. The chill from the cold air dissipated as her skin was warmed by a soothing heat. However, her mind remained foggy, as though wrapped in a mist.

As Elise stared vacantly into space, Genovia’s matter-of-fact explanation drifted past her ears.

“Dragons absorb the mother’s magic as they grow,” Genovia explained. “The first one or two months, when they’re nothing more than a tiny, almost invisible mass, are the most dangerous for the baby. Even as a dragon, it would be difficult for something so small to cling to the uterine wall with its own strength.”

“…I suppose so,” Elise replied, her voice barely audible. She reached out from under the quilt and touched her belly near the navel.

You are as fragile as I am.

Genovia mentioned that the baby was still so small its heartbeat and movements couldn’t be felt. It was about the size of a grain of millet. Her belly remained flat, showing no signs of swelling.

Perhaps because of this, Elise found it hard to believe that a new life was growing inside her. It all felt like a dream.

Then, Genovia’s cold voice continued. “But once ‘that thing’ inside you starts growing, things will be different.”

“…That thing?”

“The weaker the mother, the more fiercely the fetus will fight to survive,” Genovia said. “That means, if the baby senses a threat to its life, it will absorb the mother’s nutrients faster and without hesitation.”

Elise’s heart pounded. “Moreover, it might be born prematurely, before reaching the full term. It’s rare for dragon babies to wait the full ten months. That’s why many dragon offspring are born with deformities. They end up consuming the mother before their own bodies are fully formed. What’s inside you won’t be any different.”

Genovia’s voice seemed to fluctuate, growing louder and softer like a tinnitus. Elise gripped the quilt tightly, her knuckles whitening.

The persistent, jarring words became unbearable.

“Don’t… call it that,” Elise finally managed to say.

“What?” Genovia asked, her tone sharp.

“Don’t refer to it as ‘that thing.’ As if it’s just some object…”

It was a source of intense frustration that everyone who coveted the baby referred to it as ‘that thing.’ Realizing this filled her with a profound, stifling anger.

“No matter how small it is, a baby isn’t a commodity,” Elise insisted.

“Yes, yes. It’s not an object. But it’s not exactly human either, is it? Who considers dragons human?” Genovia retorted, a hint of irritation in her voice.

“Setting aside my own desires for a moment, I’d advise you to consider that it might be better if it were to disappear,” Genovia continued. “Even if not immediately, it will begin to slowly consume your life.”

Elise listened to this cold advice, her face on the verge of collapse. She bit her lip hard and turned her head away.

As she tried to quell her turbulent emotions, her frail chest heaved several times. The heat rising in her face made her open the window, and a sharp draft swept across her cheeks and neck.

She felt she could name the emotion surging in her throat. It was a sorrowful rage.

No one considered the life she carried to be human. It was viewed only as a valuable commodity or a monster deserving of scorn.

Even Andrei, who had vehemently questioned whether she was pregnant. 

The emperor of Van Yela, who would capture any pregnant woman of dragon descent. Duke Irrien. And even Genovia before her.

And, indeed, the very man who had planted the seed within her, the father of the child.

“Even the one who blatantly ignored the imperial decree completely reversed his stance as soon as he learned you had escaped,” Genovia said. “He said, ‘If we can only capture the princess, we will hand over the child she bears to Irrien…'”

Elise recalled Rezette’s words from one of their patrols along the Tene River.

“Don’t you wonder? About your… I mean, our child. What they might look like… what kind of child they might be?”

“I’m not particularly curious,” Rezette had replied. “I already know exactly what will be born.”

As Elise gazed vacantly at the snowflakes fluttering against the backdrop of the evening sunset, a spark gradually returned to her eyes.

It was as though she had been doused with cold water and had woken from a dream. Suddenly, she was fully alert.

Just as everyone in Van Yela was her enemy, she was utterly alone, burdened by the child she carried. She was the sole protector of herself and the growing life within her.

Even if the world despised the child, she would not. The pregnancy, once a mere condition of a life-saving contract, had become a cherished desire.

It wasn’t an unexpected pregnancy. Even during her escape from Rotiara, she secretly yearned for this man’s child. Her longing to bear his child and settle into his embrace persisted until the very end.

The circumstances revealed that conception occurred long before she decided to flee. The child had miraculously appeared at the moment she most intensely desired him.

It came because I wished for it… 

The thought filled her with shame for her initial shock and confusion. Elise’s ears burned. This was the baby’s first revelation, yet she had immediately reacted with denial. Instead of expressing gratitude for the child’s difficult arrival, she had merely fainted.

There is only me for you.

Genovia, noticing the change in Elise, narrowed her eyes. “Aren’t you afraid? There’s a monster growing inside you. It might consume you.”

“I told you not to speak like that,” Elise replied, taking a deep breath and straightening her back.

The child, though nameless and formless, was not a dangerous entity to be destroyed. It was a welcomed life, a precious, strong, and dazzling existence that had barely taken root in her frail body.

Elise had a responsibility to embrace the child and protect it from the cruel world. As she firmed her resolve, the clear sunset bathed her brow.

“If I were afraid of such things, I would never have started this in the first place.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow upon her, she made a promise to herself: she would find a place where they could be loved and accepted, a place where their future would be bright.