Carrying the Child of the Man Who Killed Me

After the funeral and the subsequent coronation ceremony, Jihyuk’s attitude toward Yeocheong began to change gradually.

“Your Highness, if you’re feeling unwell, please let me know immediately.”

“I’m fine. I apologize for causing unnecessary concern.”

“You don’t need to apologize. How could your health ever be an unnecessary concern to me?”

At first, when Jihyuk unexpectedly sought him out and spoke warmly, Yeocheong thought it was merely pity for his ongoing poor health. Yet, Jihyuk continued to visit him often after that.

Though it wasn’t unpleasant, Yeocheong couldn’t quite get used to the sudden change. He remained cautious, responding to Jihyuk with an awkward politeness that belied his unease.

“It’s a bit disorienting. I haven’t done anything to deserve this, yet everything feels so different now. Honestly, it makes me a little uneasy.”

“Take it as a good thing, Your Highness.”

Yeon said cheerfully, brushing Yeocheong’s hair with a radiant smile.

For Yeon and Sowol, the shift was nothing but welcome news. Since rumors had spread that Yeocheong was being favored by Jihyuk, the two attendants had also seen a marked improvement in how they were treated within the palace. Their once cold and dismissive peers now greeted them with respect, making their daily lives far more bearable.

“Not long ago, they were acting like they were lords over us, but now they’re treading carefully.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it! You have no idea how humiliating it was before. I suppose His Majesty must have been too busy managing both the duties of the Crown Prince and the King until now.”

“Do you really think that’s the reason?”

“Of course! That has to be it.”

“It must be, Your Highness.”

Sowol chimed in, handing Yeocheong a cup of tea.

Yeocheong accepted it, though he wasn’t particularly in the mood for it. The royal physician, along with Yeon and Sowol, had been insistent that he drink tea regularly to keep his body warm. As a result, Yeocheong had gotten into the habit of having tea at this hour every day.

“There’s a rumour going around that a date has been set for the two of you to consummate your marriage.”

Yeon said with a mischievous smile.

“Those who used to whisper that you’d been cast aside are suddenly holding their tongues.”

“But the royal physician still advises against pushing myself too hard.”

Yeocheong replied, his voice laced with uncertainty.

“That’s why you must recover quickly, Your Highness. Didn’t the royal physician say that the sudden change in environment could be the cause? This tea set was brought here all the way from the empire, so it should feel familiar to you.”

Sowol said with a reassuring smile.

“Mm… yes.”

Yeocheong murmured, nodding as he glanced at the luxurious tea set. Though he hadn’t grown up in poverty, he wasn’t used to drinking such fine tea on a daily basis. Even now, sipping tea out of obligation rather than desire still felt a bit unnatural to him.

“The sooner you regain your health, the sooner you can handle the consummation night with ease and establish your dignity as the queen.”

Sowol added, her tone matter-of-fact.

“Exactly! We need to put those arrogant fools in their place.”

Yeon chimed in, nodding fervently in agreement with Sowol’s words.

Their excitement stemmed from the fact that, as Crown Princess, Yeocheong had only consummated his marriage once, and his subsequent decline in health had led the royal physician to recommend he avoid further exposure to the scent of pheromones and focus on recovery. Yeon looked up at Yeocheong with sparkling eyes and spoke with enthusiasm.

“That’s why you must get better quickly, Your Highness! Just yesterday, His Majesty doubled the monthly budget for Wolha Palace, specifically so you could focus on your health. And he even ordered the hide of the black bear he hunted yesterday to be made into a coat for himself, though the court servants whispered it was actually for you.”

“Really?”

Yeocheong asked, surprised, his expression softening slightly.

“His Majesty must have been too busy until now. There’s no other explanation,” Yeon said firmly. “So don’t worry and focus on what lies ahead, Your Highness.”

“Yes. With you two by my side, there’s no room for worry.”

Yeocheong replied with a faint smile, feeling a glimmer of warmth as he looked at the two attendants who seemed to care for him even more than he cared for himself.

Without their support, his life in Yeonguk would have been far more difficult, he thought. Yet, despite their tireless efforts to comfort him, Yeocheong couldn’t fully shake off his lingering unease. Peace that came suddenly, he feared, could vanish just as quickly.

“Your Highness, are you feeling a little better today?”

Jihyuk visited Wolha Palace every day, as though sensing Yeocheong’s inner turmoil. At first, Yeocheong found Jihyuk’s presence awkward and slightly uncomfortable, but as the days passed, his discomfort faded, replaced by a growing familiarity. And over time, it wasn’t just familiarity that began to grow.

“Yeocheong.”

At some point, Jihyuk stopped calling him Bi (a formal title) and began addressing him by his name. Yeocheong found himself liking it—he liked the sound of his name spoken by Jihyuk. He also liked the occasional, almost unintentional moments when Jihyuk’s formal tone softened into casual speech.

It felt… warm. Comfortable. And maybe, just maybe, something more.

It seemed Yeocheong’s lingering poor health had been partly psychological, as the bouts of fever and days spent confined to his bed became much less frequent. Though still physically frail, he was no longer debilitated to the same extent.

“Your Majesty.”

Yeocheong said softly, addressing Jihyuk with increasing ease.

He had gradually begun to adjust to life in Yeonguk. Smiling, which had been a rare occurrence in Song Empire, became more natural. Meeting people no longer filled him with anxiety.

Yeocheong didn’t fully understand love, but he found himself wondering if this was what love felt like. A once-ordinary world now seemed filled by one person, and the idea of sharing this widened, enriched world with Jihyuk made him feel truly happy.

Jihyuk, for his part, was always gentle with Yeocheong. If Yeocheong so much as got a nosebleed, Jihyuk would worry excessively, and if Yeocheong stumbled, he would immediately call for the royal physician and remain by his side until reassured there was no serious issue.

“Really, I’m fine, Your Majesty.”

Yeocheong said, trying to placate Jihyuk.

“I can’t trust your fine.”

Jihyuk replied, his brow furrowed with concern.

“You said you were fine last night as well, and then you fainted, didn’t you?”

“…! That was…”

Yeocheong trailed off, flustered, unable to find an excuse.

His face flushed as he recalled the embarrassing incident, and Jihyuk’s worried yet exasperated expression only made him feel more self-conscious.

Yeocheong adored the way Jihyuk, though typically gentle, sometimes displayed a playful side. He especially loved how Jihyuk’s demeanor would shift when no one else was around—his speech becoming casual, his laughter unrestrained. It was impossible not to fall in love with such moments.

And Yeocheong was certain Jihyuk loved him just as much, if not more.

Though Yeonguk, located in the south, generally enjoyed a mild climate, it still experienced the distinct four seasons. Yet, in Wolha Palace, it always felt like spring. Yeocheong knew the effort and expense required to maintain the palace at such a steady warmth throughout the year, and to him, it felt like an extension of Jihyuk’s love and care.

Now, the season marking Yeocheong’s arrival in Yeonguk had come full circle—winter had returned.

***

“It will soon be a year since Your Highness came to Yeonguk,” Yeon remarked cheerfully.

“Has it already been that long?” Yeocheong asked, surprised.

“You were so worried when you first arrived, but all of that turned out to be for nothing. Now, if only an heir would bless us, there would be nothing more to wish for,” Yeon said with a teasing smile.

Yeocheong’s face turned slightly red at her comment, though he managed to keep his composure. The thought of an heir wasn’t unfamiliar—he knew it was expected—but hearing it spoken aloud still made him feel shy.

“Yeon, don’t say unnecessary things.”

“S-sorry, Your Highness. I think I got too carried away.”

Yeon replied, her excitement quickly fading as she bowed her head apologetically. Sowol shot her a pointed look, making Yeon fidget nervously.

It had been more than half a year since Yeocheong began receiving Jihyuk’s affection, and they had shared the marriage bed officially four times, with countless unofficial nights together as well. Yet, there were still no signs of pregnancy.

“Once Your Highness fully recovers, you will conceive without issue.”

The royal physician had reassured him it wasn’t a matter of fertility but simply a result of his health not being completely restored. However, Yeocheong’s recovery had stalled—his condition was better than when he first fell ill but hadn’t improved significantly in months.

“It’s fine, really. There’s no need to worry.”

Yeocheong said, his voice steady as he glanced down at his still-flat stomach.

“It’s only been a year. If we keep trying, it will happen eventually.”

He wasn’t longing for a child to solidify his position as queen. Rather, he dreamed of a child who would resemble both him and Jihyuk—a little one to cherish and raise with love, just as his mother had done for him. It was a quiet hope, born not of obligation, but of genuine desire.

‘I don’t want a child who grows up not knowing a father’s love, like I did. I want them to grow up surrounded by the love of both parents.’

Yeocheong wasn’t anxious; he was certain that Jihyuk wouldn’t treat him coldly simply because they didn’t have a child yet. However, he couldn’t deny that he, too, deeply wished to bear Jihyuk’s child soon. Unlike Yeon’s bold remarks, Yeocheong couldn’t bring himself to say such thoughts aloud, but they lingered quietly in his heart.

“That’s sure to be the case.”

Sowol said reassuringly, and Yeocheong nodded as he sipped his tea. With winter setting in and a slight chill creeping into his body, Yeocheong had decided to refrain from going outdoors for the time being.

“His Majesty is here to visit.”

Unable to leave the palace himself, Yeocheong was delighted to hear that Jihyuk had come to Wolha Palace instead. His expression noticeably brightened as he began preparing to greet Jihyuk.

“I’ll prepare fresh refreshments.”

Yeon said, bustling with excitement.

“Yes, bring out what His Majesty likes.”

Yeocheong replied, a warm smile spreading across his face as he looked forward to their time together.

Sowol and Yeon cleared away the tea they had been drinking and left to prepare fresh refreshments. Shortly after, the door opened, and Jihyuk stepped inside.

“Yeocheong, how was your day?”

“Thanks to Your Majesty’s care, I spent the day peacefully.”

Yeocheong replied with a gentle smile.

“Do you not find it stifling to remain within the palace walls all the time?”

“The palace is so vast that there’s no time to feel cooped up.”

Yeocheong answered, his smile softening further. He wasn’t lying—Wolha Palace was one of the largest in Yeonguk, complete with a lake and beautifully maintained gardens. Even spending all his time within its grounds never felt suffocating.

“I hope the weather warms soon. Every time I hear you cough, I feel as though my heart might drop.”

Jihyuk said, his voice laced with genuine concern.

“In that case, I must try my best to recover quickly for the sake of Your Majesty’s heart. And if I regain my health, perhaps a little one will come to join us soon…”

In the past, such a remark would have left Yeocheong flustered and scrambling for words. Now, however, he was comfortable enough to respond with a teasing smile, his heart light as he watched Jihyuk’s face soften into a laugh.

With a slightly softened tone, Jihyuk gently pulled Yeocheong into his arms and spoke softly.

“You don’t need to try or strive for anything, my love. Just being here, as you are, is more than enough. Besides, I’d like to enjoy our time together just a little longer before anyone else joins us.”

His embrace—broad and warm, a comfort Yeocheong had come to know well—felt soothing. Yeocheong smiled faintly and leaned into Jihyuk’s arms, letting himself relax in that familiar warmth.

“Next month, I might have a bit of free time.”

Jihyuk murmured, his voice low and sweet, as though speaking directly into Yeocheong’s heart. Knowing that Yeocheong liked it when he spoke casually and tenderly, Jihyuk often used such a tone deliberately.

“I’ve heard there’s a lovely retreat about a day’s carriage ride from here. I’ll make time for a few days, so please wait a little longer if you’re feeling restless.”

With those words, Jihyuk placed a gentle kiss on Yeocheong’s forehead. Though Yeocheong had assured him he was fine, it was clear that Jihyuk was still worried about how confined Yeocheong had been all winter within Wolha Palace.

“I’d love that.”

Yeocheong replied with a soft smile, his heart warming at the thought.

“I’ll wait patiently.”

Yeocheong had no complaints about his current life, but he didn’t want to reject Jihyuk’s thoughtfulness. The idea of spending quiet, private time together was something he found himself looking forward to.

‘Yes. The royal physician said there’s no issue with me as an omega, so if I focus more on my health, our little one will come to us someday. I hope that day arrives soon.’

Yeocheong’s face lit up with a pure, unclouded smile. The moment was filled with a serene, almost overwhelming sense of peace and happiness—so much so that it felt like nothing in the world could disrupt it.