Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 198
“…By then, I’ll just be watching, holding the baby.”
“That does make sense.”
Izar imagined Freesia cradling a baby in the palace during the festival.
Izar unconsciously clasped Freesia’s hands as he imagined her looking down at a fair baby with a radiant smile.
The image he conjured was so beautiful and filled with happiness that it nearly overwhelmed him.
He fervently wished Freesia could envision such a future as well. No, he didn’t even dare hope for that much—he simply wanted her not to find the idea of a future with the three of them together so detestable.
“Which would you prefer, a boy or a girl?”
“…A boy, of course. You need a successor, don’t you?”
“I don’t care.”
Izar shook his head lightly.
“As long as the child takes after you.”
“……”
“They’d be all the more lovable that way.”
He prayed desperately that their child wouldn’t resemble him in the slightest. He wanted the baby to be Freesia’s likeness from head to toe.
Because even now, he could feel the subtle disdain Freesia harbored toward him.
‘If the child ends up looking like me, she’ll surely hate them too.’
That was Izar’s greatest fear, one he couldn’t voice to anyone.
Freesia gazed silently at his conflicted golden eyes before changing the subject.
“Before the weather turns colder, I’d like to host a tea party. The greenhouse garden would be perfect for it.”
“In your condition?”
“My status has changed, and I need to establish my dignity properly. The first tea party was lacking.”
As she watched him prepare to argue, Freesia forced herself to smile sweetly.
“I won’t overdo it. For the sake of you, me, and our child’s future.”
She deliberately chose words he would like to hear, carefully crafting the image of a devoted wife intent on living happily by his side for years to come.
“You’ll grant my request, won’t you, Izar?”
* * *
The duchess, miraculously revealed to be an imperial descendant, was hosting a tea party.
While she had hosted a tea party before, those who attended previously had done so reluctantly, out of obligation as retainers.
This time, however, things were different.
Never had a thin invitation card sparked such fierce behind-the-scenes competition.
“Who will the Duchess choose to invite?”
“Surely I won’t be left out, will I?”
To miss this tea party would be a permanent stain on any family’s reputation. The greenhouse garden, now gleaming more brilliantly than the imperial palace itself, had been transformed into a venue reminiscent of early spring.
The preparation, involving the efforts of both the duchy and imperial staff, had set expectations sky-high, and they weren’t wrong.
Freesia, dressed in an elegant periwinkle gown that complemented the theme of early spring, received endless compliments on her beauty, though she dismissed them with polite indifference.
Even she, however, tilted her head curiously when Izar approached and presented her with a slender box.
“What is this?”
“You said you wanted to assert your dignity.”
Izar’s gaze lingered on her ears. She no longer wore earrings.
He didn’t elaborate further, instead pulling out a necklace and fastening it around her slender neck.
“If you’re going to do this in your condition, you might as well do it properly.”
“……”
Freesia stared at the pendant in the mirror—a dazzling white gem shaped like a flower resting against her neck.
Even she, indifferent to the lavish jewelry the emperor constantly sent, could tell this was an exquisitely crafted and valuable piece.
But its worth wasn’t the issue. The pendant itself was.
“Did you commission this to match my name?”
The man in the mirror didn’t answer her question. Instead, a faint sense of pride appeared on his lips, pleased that she had noticed.
“Do you like it?”
“…Yes.”
Freesia awkwardly touched the pendant.
A white flower that bloomed in early spring—the very flower her mother had told her inspired her name, blooming when Freesia was born.
A flower she might not see next year…
The weight of her dwindling lifespan struck her anew. She had just 105 days left, according to today’s count.
But Freesia smiled gently, like a loving wife, and rose onto her tiptoes.
For the first time in a long while, since they had last been intimate, Freesia initiated a kiss.
By the time the attendants tactfully withdrew without a sound, their lips parted.
Freesia looked at the frozen Izar and whispered softly,
“…Thank you.”
“……”
“I’ll treasure it.”
Before she could step back, however, Izar, who had been frozen in place, abruptly pulled her into his arms.
He claimed her lips again, this time with desperate hunger, as though he couldn’t bear to leave a single drop untouched.
The raw, heated intensity of his actions made Freesia’s back arch reflexively.
“Mmph… ah…!”
She realized belatedly how accustomed she had once been to such overwhelming sensations, sensations she had long since left behind. Grasping his shoulders, she tried to stop him.
“Izar…! People are waiting outside—”
“They can wait.”
Izar’s voice was rough with excitement as he interrupted her.
Even if the imperial descendant hosted her tea party on an icy lake, it would still be hailed as the event of the year. Who would dare complain about a ‘slight’ delay?
Since learning of her pregnancy, Izar had barely touched Freesia, knowing she would likely hate it.
But for her to reach out to him first like this…
Ignoring her breathless protests, he laid her down on the long velvet sofa. As his shadow loomed over her, Freesia wriggled in alarm.
“No, it’s too soon… I’m not in the stable period yet, Izar, we can’t…!”
“Worry not, Your Highness.”
Izar chuckled, suppressing his restrained laughter.
Though the kiss alone had him burning with need, he wouldn’t do anything to endanger her or the child.
“I’ll leave nothing but a trace.”
