Carrying the Child of the Man Who Killed Me

It was only after seeing Jihyuk’s face that Yeocheong realized just how foolish his expectations had been. No matter how kind someone seemed, there was no way Jihyuk could feel happy about suddenly being married to someone he barely knew, let alone an omega like Yeocheong.

‘How naive of me. Of course, he wouldn’t be happy to marry someone like me. I should’ve known better…’

His hands trembled slightly as he lifted the ceremonial hap-hwan-ju to his lips. At that moment, Yeocheong finally grasped the reality of his situation and buried his fragile hopes. While coming to Yeonguk had been the best choice for his own future, it was clear that Jihyuk likely saw the marriage as an imposition. How could Yeocheong have been so blind to that?

‘What should I do now?’

After the long and exhausting wedding ceremony ended, Yeocheong was taken to the bridal chamber to wait for Jihyuk. When Jihyuk finally entered, Yeocheong mustered the courage to steal a quick glance at him before lowering his head again, his fingers nervously picking at the hem of his robe.

Jihyuk’s expression was as cold as it had been during the ceremony. Despite being in the same room for what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke a word.

Yeocheong hadn’t expected to be treated as a true partner in this politically driven marriage, but he also hadn’t anticipated such stifling silence. The oppressive quiet pressed down on him, making the air feel heavier with each passing moment.

At the very least, Yeocheong had thought they could exchange a few words about their current situation. Staring intently at his trembling hands, he finally broke the heavy silence with a hesitant voice.

“…I-I’m sorry.”

He was still dressed in full ceremonial attire, his hair adorned with elaborate ornaments that hadn’t yet been removed. At the sound of Yeocheong’s soft apology, Jihyuk turned his gaze toward him.

“What are you apologizing for?”

His tone was polite, as always. To an outsider, it might have sounded kind, but there was an undeniable distance in his words—too detached for someone addressing their new spouse.

“F-for not conducting myself properly… leading to those rumors… and forcing you into a marriage you didn’t want….”

As Yeocheong spoke, his hands trembled even more, and tears welled up in his eyes. His emotions, raw and tightly wound, threatened to spill over, but he fought to keep them contained. Struggling to hold back the tears, he continued in a shaky voice.

“I felt… I should at least apologize….”

“You don’t need to think that way. This marriage was inevitable regardless.”

Jihyuk’s calm reply was like a blade slicing through Yeocheong’s fragile courage. Though the words were not cruel, they were devoid of comfort, leaving Yeocheong feeling even smaller in his presence.

As Jihyuk spoke, he began to carefully remove the ornaments from Yeocheong’s hair. Though Jihyuk had said there was no need to apologize, Yeocheong couldn’t believe that he truly meant it. His head remained bowed, trembling slightly.

One by one, the heavy ornaments weighing down his hair were removed, but the guilt pressing on Yeocheong’s shoulders felt even heavier.

He couldn’t bring himself to look up. Even as the last ornament was taken off and his neatly styled hair came undone, cascading over his shoulders, Yeocheong stayed motionless, eyes fixed on the ground.

“Ah…”

It wasn’t until Jihyuk’s hand moved toward his chest that Yeocheong realized the reality of the situation—they were expected to consummate their marriage tonight.

As someone married into royalty, spending the night together and eventually bearing his husband’s child was considered Yeocheong’s duty. Yet the fear that gripped him, compounded by his guilt for inconveniencing Jihyuk, made the entire situation feel terrifying.

The trembling in his hands spread throughout his entire body. He felt pathetic, knowing Jihyuk could not possibly fail to notice how much he was shaking.

Jihyuk, watching Yeocheong quiver with his head still bowed, let out a small sigh. Startled by the sound, Yeocheong jerked his head up, his face pale and eyes wide with fear.

“You must still be weary from your long journey. I don’t think it’s wise to push yourself tonight.”

“Ah…”

Yeocheong murmured, unsure of how to respond.

“If we were to consummate the marriage in your current state, I’d feel like a brute forcing myself on you.”

Jihyuk added with a wry tone.

“N-no, that’s not— I’m fine—”

“I’m not fine.”

Jihyuk cut him off, firm but not unkind.

“I won’t do anything tonight. Just get some rest.”

He extinguished the light in the bridal chamber and gently guided Yeocheong to lie down on the bed. For a moment, Jihyuk lingered in the room, but when he seemed to think Yeocheong had fallen asleep, he quietly left the chamber.

Even though his body had been trembling uncontrollably, Yeocheong couldn’t fully feel relief. He understood all too well how humiliating it was to fail to consummate the marriage on the wedding night.

‘He might have meant it as kindness… but could it really be called kindness? No, if I had done better, none of this would’ve happened in the first place. I shouldn’t dwell on this. I need to focus on what to do from now on…’

Yeocheong clenched his trembling hands, trying to suppress the swirl of emotions inside him, his thoughts racing even in the quiet of the empty chamber.

Yeocheong lay still, eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Yet, despite his efforts, sleep eluded him entirely, and he spent the entire night wide awake. By morning, he had officially become the Crown Princess of Yeonguk.

***

Life in Yeonguk was peaceful, but Yeocheong’s heart was far from at ease. The fact that he and Jihyuk had not consummated their marriage became an open secret within the palace.

While the palace attendants always treated Yeocheong with utmost respect, and the Crown Princess’s residence was impeccably maintained, the quiet glances exchanged between the servants were beyond anyone’s control.

Jihyuk, who had taken over the kingdom’s affairs in place of the ailing king, was effectively the ruler in all but name. Using his busy schedule as an excuse, he rarely visited Yeocheong, leaving the young Crown Princess isolated. The only people Yeocheong could rely on were Yeon and Sowol, attendants who had served him since his days as a prince.

“Send this to the imperial palace.”

Yeocheong said softly, handing a letter to Yeon.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Yeon replied, taking the letter while cautiously observing Yeocheong’s expression.

“Do you have something you’d like to say?”

Yeocheong asked, noticing Yeon’s hesitance. His voice was calm, but there was a trace of weariness that even he couldn’t hide.

“A-ah, no, Your Highness.”

Yeon stammered, quickly lowering her head when her eyes met Yeocheong’s. Though she denied it, her demeanor suggested she had plenty to say.

Unlike Yeocheong, who held the title of Crown Princess, Yeon and Sowol were mere palace attendants, and as such, bore the brunt of other servants’ disdain. Yeocheong wasn’t fully aware of the details, but he had noticed their hands becoming increasingly worn and injured day by day.

“…It’s nothing, truly. Please don’t concern yourself with it, Your Highness.”

Yeon said, her voice trembling slightly.

“It’s fine—just tell me. I’d rather hear something, anything, than be left completely in the dark.”

Yeocheong urged gently, determined to no longer turn a blind eye.

At his kind words, Yeon hesitated for a moment, her lips trembling, before she suddenly burst into tears. It was clear now that something was indeed wrong.

“It’s just… the palace servants are giving us a hard time because we’re not from Yeonguk.”

Yeon admitted and cried.

“And with those strange rumors going around… they use them to mock us….”

“Rumors?”

At Yeocheong’s question, Yeon clamped a hand over her mouth, realizing she’d said too much. But spilled water could not be gathered back, and the truth was out.

After much coaxing, Yeocheong finally got her to reveal the details of the rumors.

“…They’re saying that His Highness already had someone he loved, but was forced into this marriage. Though, it might not even be true. They’re just so desperate to humiliate us.”

Hearing this, Yeocheong’s face hardened, and he bit his lip, consumed by guilt.

‘I was so thoughtless. I clung to the idea of avoiding Seonguk and ended up causing trouble for so many people… Of course, His Highness must hate me for it.’

Perhaps it was this weight of guilt, or perhaps it was the sudden change in climate, but less than a month after arriving in Yeonguk, Yeocheong began to fall ill frequently.

He developed fevers of unknown origin, experienced sudden bouts of dizziness, and had days where he was too weak to leave his bed. The once-daily tasks he could perform became insurmountable, leaving him bedridden and in pain.

The royal physician examined him multiple times, but despite his clear symptoms, no definitive cause could be identified. The physician, always at a loss, could only prescribe medicines to strengthen Yeocheong’s body, though his uncertain expression betrayed his lack of confidence in the remedies.

“The sudden change in environment may have overwhelmed your body, making it difficult to adjust. I believe your condition will gradually improve with time…” the royal physician had said.

However, Yeocheong’s health showed no signs of improvement even after another month had passed. During this time, as Yeocheong continued to battle his illness, the King of Yeonguk, who had long been unwell, passed away. Despite his frail state, Yeocheong forced himself to attend the late king’s funeral.

“Are you feeling well enough?”

Ji-hyuk asked, his tone measured.

“Yes. I regret troubling everyone over something so trivial,” Yeocheong replied, bowing his head slightly.

Though Ji-hyuk and Yeocheong saw each other regularly, their meetings were always brief. The royal physician’s advice to postpone consummating the marriage due to Yeocheong’s health meant they had yet to share a marital bed. Their interactions were limited to the occasional awkward tea gathering.

“This is far from trivial. How could your health, as the Crown Princess, be considered a minor concern?”

But that day felt a little different. Ji-hyuk seemed unusually gentle, much like when they first met. Perhaps seeing Yeocheong in such a weakened state had stirred some sympathy in him.

Yeocheong, hesitant but sensing the sincerity in Jihyuk’s words, bowed his head slightly and replied quietly.

“Thank you for your concern. I will strive to recover soon so I can fulfill my duties properly.”

“It’s only right that I attend. Yet, I feel ashamed for failing to fulfill my duties as Crown Princess thus far. I worry I may have been an unworthy daughter-in-law to the late king.”

Yeocheong said, his voice tinged with regret.

“You need not think that way. The late king may have wished for more opportunities to meet with you, but he would not have thought ill of you.”

‘But I’m just a useless daughter-in-law who took the place of someone else—someone who should have been here by your side. And yet, I can’t even live up to the role I’ve been given.’

Yeocheong thought bitterly, though he couldn’t bring himself to voice such words. Instead, he forced an awkward smile, suppressing the turmoil in his heart.

It was around this time that Ji-hyuk’s demeanor began to change. Subtle but undeniable, his attitude toward Yeocheong softened, as though he were seeing him in a new light.