What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 131
“Do you have a problem with me entering your room?”
“…You know that’s not what I mean.”
Ysaris glanced at Kazhan with a slightly baffled expression.
Admittedly, there was nothing unusual about a husband entering his wife’s chambers. But their situation was different; they had maintained separate rooms and rarely invaded each other’s personal spaces. The only one she had invited today was Mikael. Naturally, she was startled when Kazhan entered her room, carrying their child in his arms.
“Did something happen?”
Worried, Ysaris scanned him carefully. Only days ago, he had been attacked in the changing room under bizarre circumstances. As she weighed the potential fallout from that incident, his unexpected answer took her off guard.
“The weather’s nice.”
“…What?”
“The clear, bright sky reminded me of your eyes. So, I came to see you. Imagining you wasn’t enough—I wanted to see you in person.”
Ysaris froze. His unguarded confession left her speechless, unable to respond in time.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t exactly a confession… but something about it flustered her enough to avoid meeting his gaze. Mikael’s sudden whining offered a timely distraction.
“Me too, me too!”
“Did you miss Mommy too, Mikael?”
“Mm-hmm!”
“Mommy missed her little boy as well.”
Ysaris smiled tenderly and nuzzled her cheek against Mikael’s, feeling a surge of warmth and joy. The child couldn’t fully comprehend Kazhan’s earlier words, yet instinctively reciprocated with affection. It was both endearing and heartwarming.
Kazhan observed the mother and son quietly, his gaze softening despite himself. He had originally hoped for private time with Ysaris, but judging from her priorities, it seemed wiser to include Mikael.
To emphasize his role as a father, he had deliberately entered carrying their child. Ysaris’s attachment to Mikael often overshadowed everything else, so Kazhan deemed the effort worthwhile.
Of course, developing a bond with Mikael was an entirely separate matter. Their recent journey together had eased some of the distance between them, but Mikael still rarely approached him on his own.
Ysaris was no different. She merely reacted to him rather than actively seeking to build their relationship.
And so, he found excuses to come to her instead.
“As I mentioned, the weather is too good to waste. How about a light stroll together?”
“…In my current state?”
Ysaris shot him an incredulous glance. After an exhausting night followed by an equally relentless afternoon with him, her body had been sore and weakened, leaving her bedridden for days.
She had only managed to see Mikael after two days of recovery. Resentment lingered in her expression, though it lacked the edge of genuine anger.
To Kazhan, her mild protest felt more like playful defiance. Instead of backing off, he sat down beside her and replied nonchalantly.
“Then I’ll carry you.”
“I think you have a strange idea of what a stroll is, dear.”
“Does it matter how we walk? For me, the important thing is that we’re together.”
The words might have sounded romantic—if not for the brazenly casual tone in which he delivered them.
Ysaris hesitated, intending to refuse, but before she could speak, she felt a small tug at her sleeve. Looking down, she saw Mikael grasping her clothes, his wide eyes brimming with anticipation.
“Outsie.”
“You want to go for a walk, darling?”
“Mm-hmm!”
As always, Mikael’s spirited answer made her smile with resignation. She could resist her husband, but not her son.
* * *
“…Did we really have to do it this way?”
Cradled in Kazhan’s arms, Ysaris tried to avoid eye contact, her discomfort evident as she shifted slightly.
Supported securely by his strong arms at her back and legs, and with a soft blanket draped over her for warmth, she couldn’t complain about the arrangement’s practicality. And by now, even the staff had learned to avert their gazes tactfully.
Perhaps repeated exposure had dulled her embarrassment to some extent. Kazhan’s public displays of affection were something she had reluctantly grown accustomed to over time.
Still, being carried around like a princess for all to see was something she’d never get used to—blanket and all.
‘If he knew I wasn’t feeling well, why drag me out like this?’
“Do you dislike it?”
“Well, it’s… a bit awkward. Aren’t I heavy?”
“Not at all. I thought you’d gained some weight from the meals I’ve had sent, but apparently, I was wrong. Why don’t you ever put on weight?”
“I think I’m just… normal,” she replied, unsure whether to laugh or roll her eyes.
