HST 58

Chapter 58

In the end, it happened.
“Even a political marriage still goes through all the motions, huh.”

Belial felt a complicated mix of emotions after spending the first night with Eric. She turned her head to stare at the disheveled blanket—the spot where Eric had been lying just moments ago.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he dressed and left the room without a second thought. Being left alone felt strangely lonely, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t feel anything for Eric.

Belial stared at the ceiling with a dull gaze.
“Something…”

It had all passed so quickly, hadn’t it? By the time Belial had mentally prepared herself, everything was over. There had been no romance, no excitement—nothing. He had fulfilled his desire like a machine and then fallen asleep.

Pulling the luxurious blanket up to her neck, Belial burrowed into the bed.
“Haa…”

A low sigh echoed in the room. With her eyes closed, she looked more relaxed than ever.
“So soft…”

She wriggled and turned onto her side. Finally, she felt a bit of relief. The Marquis de Dicar’s mansion was certainly better than her life as a slave, but it was still like hell. Dealing with the real Belial every day, who would constantly berate her, was no easy task.

Moreover, she had been forced to use her younger sibling as bait for threats. While her body was more comfortable than in her days as a slave, the mental strain left her already gaunt figure looking even paler in just three days.

Belial thought of her younger sibling—a face so much like her own, with red hair and delicate features. Even through hardships, the sibling never lost their smile. Even when parting, they had smiled at her amidst her tears, showing a maturity beyond their years.

“Ria…”

She whispered her sibling’s name, longing to see them immediately. She rubbed her reddened eyes with the back of her hand.
“…I’m glad you’re alive.”

The real Belial had promised that if she acted perfectly, she would get to see her sibling again.
“…I can live with my sibling again.”

The hope of being reunited with her sibling became the driving force that kept her going as the fake Belial.

As she buried herself in the soft blankets, thinking of her sibling, someone entered her room—the nanny of the Marquis de Dicar.

Her hair neatly tied up and her dress pristine, the woman had a rather harsh appearance. Seeing Belial lying in bed, the nanny frowned.
“Still in bed, huh? Such laziness.”

Her attitude toward the lady she served was anything but respectful. She knew Belial was an impostor.
“Get up.”

The nanny approached and roughly pulled the blanket away. In an instant, Belial’s curled-up body was exposed.
“What are you doing? I told you to get up.”

Intimidated, Belial sluggishly got out of bed.
“From the very first day, you’ve made a ridiculous sight of yourself,” the nanny scolded.

“If you were the real young lady of the Marquis, you wouldn’t have just stayed silent like this.”

She seemed to be referring to Belial ignoring Doana’s provocations. Belial carefully sat up.
“I… didn’t want to cause a fuss on the first day…”

Muttering this, the nanny’s expression worsened.
“Calling it a fuss to educate a poor concubine, huh. You have no idea how ridiculous you must have looked being dragged around. That concubine must have thought little of you. Don’t forget: ignoring you is an insult to the entire Marquis de Dicar household.”

Belial hesitantly answered,
“Y-yes…”

Being careful with every word and action was exhausting. For someone who had lived as a slave her whole life, becoming a perfect Belial in just three days was nearly impossible. Though she had claimed she could, her personality was very different from the real Belial’s. At least, she had become fairly noble in a short time.

The nanny clicked her tongue.
“Tch, what kind of fool are you? Do you really think you can replace the young lady of the Marquis de Dicar like this?”

She adjusted her glasses and spoke in a low voice:
“Remember this—if this goes wrong, not only you and your sibling, but all of us could die.”

Belial nodded weakly. The nanny sighed and added,
“That concubine is carrying the count’s child, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“She seems to be quite favored, so be careful not to provoke the count, lest you fall further behind.”

Belial nodded again.
“Our lady would never show such an expression.”

At the nanny’s words, Belial immediately changed her expression to one of pride and authority.
“Yes. You must never take off that mask.”

The nanny finally smiled in satisfaction.
“From today on, never be outdone by that concubine.”

The dining table was quiet. Only the clinking of utensils broke the silence. Doana frowned as she alternated her gaze between Eric and Belial.
“…Annoying.”

In the end, the two had spent the night together. While Doana had dozed off, they had consummated their union. She worried anxiously, wondering if anything had changed between them.

Eric noticed Doana barely touching her food.
“Not hungry?”

Doana raised the corner of her mouth in response, realizing Eric was talking to her, not Belial.
“Ah, yes. Food isn’t going down very well.”

“You still have to eat. For the child in your womb.”
“Yes, of course. To have a fine boy like the count…”

Doana emphasized “boy” and gave a teasing smile.
“Yes, be careful not to risk a miscarriage.”

Doana’s face stiffened. Even she, with her thick skin, could not laugh off such a comment. Miscarriage in early pregnancy was not always due to negligence.

In Korea, she would have snapped at such a husband. But here, she needed to maintain a good impression on Eric. She forced an awkward smile and turned her gaze, feeling a slight twinge in her lower abdomen.
“…I should be careful in early pregnancy.”

Since learning she was pregnant, she had deliberately avoided the red-haired knight, staying cautious until her pregnancy stabilized. She reasoned that Eric wasn’t particularly threatening.

“I probably shouldn’t have involved him.”

She regretted bringing him along due to a disturbing dream.
“It’s fine. What could go wrong?”

No bleeding, no real problem had occurred.

“How’s the schedule today? It’s my first time in the south, so I’m so excited.”

Doana giggled, thinking about being caught between Eric and Belial.

Belial, quietly eating, put down her fork and spoke to Doana slowly.
“It seems you are in the early stages of pregnancy. How many weeks?”
“Three weeks.”
“At three weeks, the risk of miscarriage is high. Wouldn’t it be better to rest in the mansion? What if you overexert yourself and miscarry?”

Belial spoke as the real Belial might, with a cold, lofty expression.

The nanny watched with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, you sound like you wish I’d miscarry,” Doana muttered, irritated at having to speak politely to someone so much younger. She even slipped into informal speech mid-sentence.

Belial shot her a stern glare.
“This kid has some nerve.”

She didn’t like that Belial glared at her just for dropping the polite speech. Yesterday, she had thought controlling Belial would be easy—but this woman was not as soft as she expected.

Belial turned to Eric.
“Considering she struggled riding in the carriage all day yesterday, it would be better for her to rest for the child’s sake.”

Eric swallowed and nodded.
“That seems best.”

“Count, I’m really fine.” Doana tried to argue, but Eric did not budge.
“No, it’s better for you to rest. Starting tomorrow, you will accompany me. But for today, do as I say.”

Eric stood and slowly left the dining room.

Doana glared at Belial.
“Lucky you! Now I can’t leave the mansion as I please.”

Before Belial could respond, the nanny spoke.
“A maid-born concubine can’t help herself. She’s so obviously uneducated.”

Doana scowled at the insult. She tried to retort, but Belial took action. Slowly standing, she pretended to pass by and spilled the water on the table, soaking Doana’s borrowed dress.

“What—what are you doing!?”

Belial giggled innocently. Doana immediately realized it was deliberate.

The nanny smiled, satisfied, and said,
“I’ll help you prepare for your outing, madam.”

“Alright.”

Belial dabbed her mouth with a napkin, dropped it toward Doana, and left the dining room with the nanny.

Doana trembled in anger.
“For such a trivial matter…!”

Pain shot through her lower abdomen.
“Ugh…”

The red-haired knight had apparently pushed her too hard the night before. Unlike Eric, he had boundless energy. Doana clutched her stomach and staggered, her face pale.

She grabbed a nearby maid.
“Help me to my room.”

The maid assisted her.
“Shall I call the physician?”
“No! I’m fine. No physician needed.”

Normally she would have insisted immediately, but now she felt weak.
“…A short rest should be fine.”

She feared the physician would notice her actions the night before. The maid grumbled internally but helped her to bed.

Alone, Doana lay on her bed, calming herself.
“Ugh, so annoying! If my stomach didn’t hurt, I would have chased them myself.”

Thinking of Belial and Eric enjoying themselves together made her stomach churn. She banged on the bed in frustration.

Through the thumping came a faint sound of a child crying.
“Waaah!”

Doana froze and looked around.
“What… what is that? Creepy.”

She tensed, imagining the cries from her dream. Then she heard it again—this time clearly a cat’s meow.

Relieved, she saw a white-furred kitten trembling in the corner of her room.
“Oh my, so cute. How did you get in here?”

She approached, forgetting about Eric entirely, and lifted the kitten with a bright smile.