"When what?" The emperor's voice was colder now, the words carrying a weight that made it clear hesitation would not be tolerated.
The butler shifted slightly, choosing his next words with precision.
"When it seems she grows weary of the attention. There are times when she retreats to the garden alone, requesting space, though the maids remain at a distance, as per your orders."
The emperor's eyes narrowed for a moment before he gave a slow, deliberate nod.
"She is adjusting, then," he said, though his tone suggested he was not entirely convinced.
"Yes, Your Majesty," the butler affirmed, bowing slightly.
"Though, as with all things, time will tell if her condition remains as... steady as it appears." With a wave of his hand, the emperor dismissed him, his thoughts already moving elsewhere as the butler quietly exited the room.
The report had been thorough, the act impressive, but the emperor knew better than to accept appearances at face value.
He could already sense cracks forming beneath the surface.
The question was not if they would break—but when.
*****
A month passed, and I found myself leaning against the headboard, surrounded by an overabundance of pillows as the doctor hovered over me, checking my pulse like I was a fragile relic in need of preservation.
His brows furrowed in unnecessary concentration, while I fought the growing urge to roll my eyes.
And then, of course, there was the emperor—standing near the bed, arms folded across his chest, watching the scene unfold with that ever-present cold expression.
I must say, in a thin white silk shirt and black pants, he definitely appears more handsome than most of the top idols I have ever had a crush on.
But I can't have a crush on this guy who can crush me at any moment, can I?
He stood firmly; it was as if he thrived on looming silently in corners, as though sitting down like a normal human being would somehow diminish his presence.
"...hmm" The doctor hummed softly, still holding my wrist in that overly serious way, and I focused on the ceiling above, trying to keep my face composed.
I had to.
Weeks of faking this pregnancy had left my nerves frayed, but I couldn't afford to let any crack in the act show.
And would this old man be able to find out if I was not pregnant?
Not a chance!
I have mastered the skill of controlling my heart rate.
How? Am I a genius?
Nope, one simply needs to have a sword hanging around their neck to achieve this feat.
Finally, the doctor released my wrist and cleared his throat.
"Yes, she is indeed pregnant," he announced, his voice tinged with the sort of finality he thought the situation demanded.
I almost let out a breath of relief, but before I could, the emperor's voice sliced through the air like a blade.
"Then why is her stomach still not fat?"
I shot him a sidelong glance, catching that cold, calculating look on his face.
He was watching me like I was some puzzle he had yet to solve, his analytical gaze never softening.
Leave it to him to zero in on the most inconvenient detail.
Without missing a beat, I raised an eyebrow and smirked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I'm a hot woman. Did you really expect me to look fat?"
"....."
"....."
The doctor blinked, his face a blank canvas of disbelief, while the emperor remained unmoved, his stare never faltering.
Tough crowd.
The doctor, still holding my wrist, gave me a look so blank that I almost burst out laughing.
The emperor's reaction mirrored his—a pair of stone-faced men staring at me as if I'd sprouted a second head.
Clearly, humor wasn't their forte.
Tough crowd.
After an awkward pause, the doctor straightened and turned toward the emperor, clearing his throat again.
"Your Majesty, in most cases, a visible tummy doesn't show until later stages. It's perfectly normal at this point."
The emperor nodded slowly, but his eyes narrowed as he glanced back at me, that familiar suspicious gaze creeping back in.
He didn't trust me—not that I could blame him.
Once the doctor had left, the emperor remained in the room, regarding me with a slight tilt of his head.
His expression was unreadable, yet I could feel his cold stare cutting through me like ice.
"Are you sure you're really pregnant?" His voice was low, calm, but the weight of his words hit me hard.
I swallowed, my mind racing.
He was onto me.
He had to be.
How long could I keep this up before everything came crashing down?
With a defeated smile, I lowered my gaze, striving to appear hurt.
I even added a slight tremble to my voice as I whispered, "Indeed, I am."
thump thump
My heart hammered in my chest, my pulse quickening under the emperor's scrutiny.
The silence in the room felt suffocating as I sat there, waiting for his next move, inwardly repeating, Fake it until you make it.
The tension was unbearable, my skin prickling under his cold stare.
But I kept my gaze down, doing my best to look as fragile as possible, which, to be honest, wasn't hard given the situation.
tap tap tap
My heartbeat thundered in my ears, nearly drowning out the sound of his footsteps as he slowly turned and walked toward the door.
I didn't dare move or breathe until the door clicked shut behind him.
The moment it did, I sprang from the bed, rushing over to the door as quietly as I could, pressing my ear against the wood to listen.
His deep voice filtered through the thick door, just barely audible.
"Give her space. Don't keep an eye on her every second. Too much stress could be harmful to the child."
I blinked in surprise, hardly believing my ears.
He was ordering the servants to give me freedom?
Was this real?
I bit my lip to stifle a squeal of joy.
Did I actually just get away with this?
Pulling back from the door, my heart still raced, but this time it was fueled by triumph.
With the emperor's order, the watchful eyes of the servants would finally ease.
I had space.
I had a chance.
He is the best!
"Should I really have a child of him—" I covered my mouth, which was going to utter nonsense given how excited my heart.