Chapter 31
(31) Overwhelming Affection (2)
Eleanor gazed steadily at Heraith, who had his head resting against a tree with his eyes closed, and asked,
“Have you lost your reproductive ability?”
“What?”
Heraith whipped his head around, startled by the unexpected question, his eyes filled with disbelief as he looked at her.
“If you had slept with your previous empresses or consorts to produce an heir, you wouldn’t be suffering like this alone,” she explained calmly.
Heraith didn’t answer immediately. His lips moved slightly, but no words came out. He stared at Eleanor for a long moment, as if he couldn’t believe she could speak so plainly without a hint of embarrassment, then suddenly burst into laughter.
“Ha ha ha!”
“Did I say something funny?”
“No, it’s just… You really are a woman I can’t define in any simple way.”
“I believe my question was valid.”
“It was. Entirely valid and logical.”
“Then… perhaps… you’re unable to be with women?”
“…Huh?”
“Do you prefer men?”
Heraith laughed again, this time even longer. After a while, he stopped and wiped his face with his hand.
“It’s been a long time since I laughed like this. Or maybe… it’s the first time?”
“Seeing Your Majesty laugh so heartily brings me joy as well.”
“You don’t look particularly joyful. More like sulky.”
“Not at all. I’m honored to play the jester for Your Majesty.”
Still smiling faintly, Heraith gazed quietly at Eleanor for a moment before replying,
“You’re usually right, but this time you’re wrong. I’ve neither lost my reproductive ability nor do I prefer men.”
“Then why…?”
“Have you never considered the possibility that I have dutifully shared a bed with my empresses?”
“If you have, but no children were born, then perhaps you are—”
“No.”
Heraith cut her off sharply, his voice tinged with irritation.
Eleanor, choosing her words more carefully now, asked,
“Then… did children perhaps die before being born?”
“That could be. Strange that you hadn’t considered that possibility.”
“Of course I have. But even with that in mind, it doesn’t explain the consorts.”
“Do I need to explain the consorts too?”
“Yes. Each consort is beautiful and has her own merits. Even if not, the fact that you brought them into the palace as consorts means you could have slept with them. At least one of them should have been able to bear and raise your child safely.”
Heraith gave a faint smile—but there was such sorrow in it that Eleanor momentarily fell silent.
“Do you really think so?”
It was only then that realization hit Eleanor like a blow to the head.
“You’re afraid that even if a child were born safely… you wouldn’t be able to protect them.”
“It’s not exactly fear…”
“You’re worried they’d live under the shadow of death, just as you have. You wouldn’t be able to be by their side at all times.”
Heraith didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes.
Eleanor could hardly begin to imagine what it must feel like to be unable to have children because of the hands that would try to harm them. She couldn’t share in his sorrow, but perhaps she could lessen his burden in some way.
Looking directly at Heraith, she said,
“If that’s all it is, then it’s good news, Your Majesty. As soon as we hold our wedding, share your bed with me. I’ll bear a child and raise them with your blessing.”
***
– ‘I came because the moon was beautiful.’
– ‘The wind is cold. Being alone makes me lonely.’
Such were the kinds of words he often heard from former empresses when they invited him to their chambers. The boldest had once asked,
– ‘Your Majesty, why don’t you join me in the bedchamber?’
He couldn’t remember if it was the second empress or the third who had said that. For a noblewoman, raised in a prestigious family with refined manners, such words must have been incredibly difficult to utter.
Heraith, who had only ever heard such euphemisms from women before, didn’t know what to make of Eleanor’s bold, unmistakable statement—spoken with the clarity and purpose of a knight heading to battle.
“I don’t intend to sleep with you.”
“Why not? It’s natural for a married couple to do so and bear children. For Your Majesty, ruler of this empire, it’s all the more important.”
“It is important, but…”
“If you’re worried about assassination attempts, you’ve seen what I’m capable of. Our child will never feel the touch of darkness, they’ll live in radiant sunshine. I’ll make sure of it.”
What kind of life was one untouched by any darkness? Heraith couldn’t say.
But Eleanor’s eyes, so resolute and radiant as she made that promise, held him captive, he couldn’t look away.
Our child.
Words he’d never dared to dream of—sweet and painful all at once.
“We’ll see.”
With a bitter smile, he replied,
“How would I know whether you’d raise our child in the sunlight or leave them to crawl in the dark, like I did?”
Disappointment flickered in Eleanor’s eyes.
“Do you suspect I might become like the Empress Dowager?”
Of course not. He should have suspected it, but the truth was, he couldn’t bring himself to.
He could clearly picture Eleanor as a mother—perhaps a little unconventional, occasionally firm, but mostly kind and steadfast. Just like now.
That was the problem.
“I don’t intend to produce an heir.”
Heraith had no desire to have a child. It wasn’t his job to continue the Delgado bloodline.
“So let’s drop this talk of sharing a bed.”
“…Is it that you’re just shy?”
“Shy…”
He couldn’t even form a proper response to that unexpected remark.
“Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’ll study diligently and guide you through it.”
“What are you even…”
He wanted to say something, anything, to correct her misunderstanding, but his mind wouldn’t cooperate. His lips moved silently until he realized:
He was different when he was with Eleanor.
He hadn’t chosen to live in darkness, life had simply pushed him there. He’d had to be perfect in every moment, firm and composed, because anything less would endanger too much.
And yet, around Eleanor, his guard slipped away.
He joked, smiled, and even got flustered—just like now.
“So don’t worry, Your Majesty.”
Eleanor said this in a soothing tone.
Heraith thought, with some relief, that no one had seen what a mess he was at the moment.
He completely forgot that his knight, Adrian Teris, was hiding nearby.
‘…What the hell is this?’
If Oscar was Heraith’s arms and legs, Adrian—knight of the Azure Sky—was his very spine. He was almost always near, protecting Heraith unless told otherwise.
Which made the current scene feel utterly surreal.
‘Is… is His Majesty being seduced like some street-corner ruffian?!’
Adrian debated whether he should keep watching or quietly retreat.
Meanwhile, Heraith finally regained control.
“Lady Snow.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“It might be best if you… stepped back a bit.”
“Oh—sorry.”
Eleanor, who had crept up without realizing, scooted back and gave a cheerful smile.
“You’re so shy, Your Majesty.”
“….”
“You’ve declared me as your empress. Wouldn’t it be nice to be a little affectionate?”
That was when Heraith finally realized why Eleanor had been so forward.
“If I grow fond of you, you’ll become my weakness. If my enemies can’t hurt me, they’ll use you instead.”
“And they’ll quickly learn that I’m not an easy hostage to take.”
“Why go this far?”
“Pardon?”
“You came to the palace for Snow. Your enemies still hold power in the North. I’d think it wiser for you to focus solely on your revenge.”
Eleanor slowly looked up at the overcast sky and said,
“Of course, I’ll have my revenge. But I won’t sacrifice my entire life to it. As Snow’s daughter, I’ll protect Snow. As an empress, I’ll take charge of the palace’s inner affairs. As your wife, I’ll fulfill my role. And as your subject, I’ll protect you.”
“Just protect Snow and manage the palace. If you carry too much, you’ll collapse.”
