I Never Wanted His Child - Chapter 136
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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Lady Luther closed her fan and looked at Adrian with gleaming eyes.
“Now that both of us hold each other’s weaknesses, we are even.”
“Bring the Duke in before the council convenes.”
The palace attendant nodded at her words. Adrian quietly observed his mother’s excited demeanor.
“What about the situation with the Kingdom of Eponsen?”
“I have plans for that.”
Chuckling, Lady Luther left the Aither Hall to prepare for the Duke’s arrival.
“Cannes, follow her.”
It seemed likely she would stir up trouble again.
Adrian felt uneasy about his mother’s smile. She must have come up with some scheme once more.
* * *
Emilia gasped as pain washed over her.
“Haah.”
Glancing to the side, she saw a basin filled with water and a towel.
Getting up from her position, she spotted Mikhail, arms crossed, fast asleep in a chair.
‘…Did he actually take care of me?’
She blinked in disbelief.
Seeing his rolled-up sleeves, it seemed he really had cared for her.
Emilia couldn’t take her eyes away from him.
‘So… why?’
She had intended to seduce him, but things weren’t changing that quickly.
Emilia felt a sense of unease at Mikhail’s oddly different demeanor since the wedding.
He had left her, then returned, and now he was tending to her injuries.
Yet here he was, caring for her now.
‘…Is he crazy?’
Her body ached as if it had been beaten, but her mind was clear.
Wondering if it was all a dream, she cautiously pinched her cheek.
“That hurts.”
Confirming the reality of her situation through the sharp pain, Emilia slowly got up. As she looked down at the basin, she almost gasped.
‘What on earth happened…. to my face?’
Her eyes were puffy, and her hair was a mess.
How much had she cried to end up looking like this? It seemed excessive to claim she had merely cried out of pain.
Turning her head, she glanced back at the still-sleeping Mikhail.
His golden hair was disheveled. Following the curve of his closed eyes downward, she noticed his tightly shut lips.
‘…Bayern.’
‘Could he really be a Bayern?’
Emilia felt a wave of fear wash over her. She had endured a long nightmare the previous night.
She couldn’t recall every detail, but the screams echoing in her ears and the smell of blood lingering at her nose were unforgettable.
What stood out vividly was the anguished cries of those with the most radiant golden hair.
‘I need to confirm with my father.’
But hadn’t she already asked? Her father would never reveal the truth to her, no matter what.
Emilia sat perched on the edge of the bed, gazing at the sleeping Mikhail.
Knock, knock.
With the sound of a knock, his eyes slowly opened.
“Ah!”
Startled, she stood up but stumbled.
“You’re quite the handful.”
“…I know, so let me go.”
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly.
He strode toward the door, ready to open it.
“Wait, I’ll stand up and you can open the door!”
“You can’t even stand properly.”
“I can stand!”
She shouted desperately, and Mikhail clicked his tongue, turning back to the bed.
He set her down and flung the door open.
“What is it?”
“You told me not to wake you, but this is urgent.”
Kartho handed a letter through the doorway. Mikhail checked the royal seal on the document and furrowed his brow.
‘They’re going to hold me accountable for the chaos that day.’
Emilia listened intently to their conversation.
“Lady Luther wanted to discuss something with you before the council meeting.”
“What if I refuse to go?”
“She said she has something to say regarding Lady Dahlia.”
“She must think she has leverage over me. I’ll be out soon, so wait.”
“And the request you made has just arrived.”
Kartho handed him an envelope, which he opened immediately.
Emilia’s eyes widened as she saw the portraits in his hands.
One depicted a woman with brown hair, and the other showed a woman with reddish hair; both were the same person.
“Is this… a portrait of Princess Eponsen?”
At her question, Kartho kept his mouth shut, while Mikhail smiled knowingly.
“…It’s not red hair.”
“Reddish hair is certainly alluring. It’s worth coveting.”
He ran his fingers through her hair as he spoke.
“It’s still just a counterfeit imitation.”
“That’s what caused the rumors to spread. Even I get chills just looking at it.”
“The real thing can’t be matched. It’s obvious.”
* * *
Emilia barely held back a wave of nausea as she recalled the article about herself published in the gossip columns.
“You seem to be feeling a bit better, but you should rest more. And it’s best to avoid running into Dahlia.”
“I will.”
Emilia nodded, feeling a strange mix of emotions at his still oddly tender demeanor.
As the door closed, she sat on the bed with a blank expression.
“What is going on…?”
It was as if she had just woken from a deep slumber. Then she remembered facing Kartho with her disheveled appearance.
“Oh, my goodness!”
She clutched her throbbing head and called for Dell.
“Gasp!”
Seeing Emilia’s face, Dell gasped and quickly prepared an ice pack.
“Goodness, how much pain must you be in…?”
“…”
Emilia could only manage an awkward smile. She couldn’t admit that her appearance was the result of a nightmare that might have been all too real.
