What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 125
“Ugh… Ugh.”
Ysaris groaned softly, opening her eyes as her entire body felt like it was being pulled taut. Her tears had dried on her face, making it difficult to open her eyes properly. The frustration made her want to blame someone—anyone.
“Cain…”
‘How many times did I beg him to stop? How many times did I say I couldn’t take it anymore?’
The memories of the relentless pleasure came flooding back, and Ysaris raised her hands to cover her face. She remembered lying prone, completely at his mercy, her pillow soaked with saliva as her body trembled uncontrollably. Embarrassment surged through her, hitting her all over again.
“Because of the… alcohol…”
Her voice, hoarse and cracked, was barely audible as she murmured.
Yes, this was all because of the alcohol. She thought she wasn’t that drunk, but in truth, she had been completely intoxicated… which had led to this.
‘Maybe it was because Kazhan looked so worn out. Or because he looked pitiful, begging me with tears in his eyes. Or maybe it was because we’re already married, and he’s the father of my child. I’d dismissed it all too lightly, blaming it on the alcohol.*
The problem wasn’t that they’d shared a bed. It was that the night had been unbearably intense.
Still haunted by memories of her past as a chaste princess, Ysaris found it impossible to reconcile how she had clung to Kazhan last night, moaning so shamelessly that her voice had given out.
‘Because it’s mortifying.’
“Ugh…”
Despite her body nearing thirty, Ysaris’s heart and memories still clung to the early years of her twenties. She couldn’t bear to pull her hands away from her face. She wasn’t ready to confront the remnants of last night that were undoubtedly etched all over her body.
Her lower half, sticky with dried fluids, only made matters worse. Her stomach felt uncomfortably full, weighed down by Kazhan’s essence, and it left her with a vague sense of irritation.
“Am I… disgusted?”
But when she considered how Mikael had come into existence in a similar way, shouldn’t she feel a sense of anticipation instead?
She placed a hand on her belly over the blanket, absentmindedly rubbing it. Thoughts of what might happen if she were to conceive again conflicted within her—worry clashing with a sense of inevitability.
She wasn’t mentally prepared for another child yet, but the birth of imperial heirs was always a blessing. Furthermore, as the only wife the Emperor would ever have, Ysaris didn’t have to worry about a succession war.
So why did she feel so unsettled?
‘Is it because I don’t love him?’
A sigh escaped her lips as she fidgeted, rolling onto her side. Her stiff body protested, but she extended a hand in search of comfort—only to feel something unexpected.
Squish.
“…?”
The sensation was completely unlike the crisp fabric of a sheet or the soft warmth of a blanket. It was sticky and warm, distinctly reminiscent of human skin.
Specifically, a man’s chest.
“Ah!”
Startled, Ysaris slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp as she bolted upright. The pain shooting through her back instantly punished her rash movement, but the pain wasn’t her main concern.
‘Why is Cain here?’
She froze, glancing frantically at Kazhan and then around the room, only to quickly calm herself.
‘Logically, it wasn’t strange for the man she’d spent the night with to still be in bed beside her. It was only natural. So why did her heart feel like it had dropped into her stomach?’
“…I guess it’s still awkward for me.”
The vague discomfort she occasionally felt stirred again, but Ysaris ignored it, just as she always did. It was an instinctual choice.
Instead, she turned her attention to Kazhan, who lay completely still, fast asleep.
It was the first time she had seen him like this.
Even during their carriage travels, she had used Mikael as an excuse to sleep in separate rooms. Opportunities like this had never come about.
She hadn’t actively wanted to see him asleep, but as someone constantly on the move, his rare moment of rest stirred her curiosity.
His hair, tousled from their passionate night, looked more wild than messy. Thick brows framed closed eyes, and below them, his straight nose led down to perfectly shaped lips that were gently closed.
His sharp jawline only added to his cold, distant appearance. Even in his sleep, his expression remained rigid, making him seem all the more unapproachable.
“But he looks so tender when he smiles…”
Feeling a pang of regret, Ysaris reached out and lightly touched the corner of his lips. She rarely saw his crimson eyes warm with affection as a slow smile spread across his face.
Though Kazhan was already as breathtaking as a sculpture just lying there, wouldn’t it be even better to see him full of vitality? After all, he was her husband.
Absentmindedly, she traced her fingers over his lips until his eyes fluttered open without warning, startling her into snatching her hand back.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
No response came immediately. Kazhan’s half-lidded, dazed gaze lingered on her before he finally spoke, his voice low and slow, as if pulling itself from the depths of sleep.
“…Ysaa?”
“What’s wrong? Are you still in pain?”
“In pain? That’s not it. But… why are you here? Wait… did we… did we share a bed?”
