My Ex-Boyfriend Gave Birth to My Child? What Does That Mean? - Chapter 19

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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My ex-boyfriend’s child? That’s what she gave birth to? Episode 19
‘That expression. I’ve seen it somewhere before, haven’t I?’
My chest tickled strangely, so I deliberately turned my gaze away. I heard him laugh softly, a small sound near my ear.
“…What brings you here today?”
“The much-talked-about young lady of Otreh. I hear you’ve recently taken up textile dealing?”
“I wouldn’t call it dealing. I’ve simply set up a small workshop with a few hired artisans.”
I had sought out the craftsmen who had once worked for the Ocker Company in my previous life and made employment contracts with them. I’d offered them better terms than they’d had back then, so I’d managed to preserve a sense of loyalty to them.
“Everyone wants to wear something softer against their skin when it comes to intimate clothing, don’t they? Right now I’m focused on that line and supplying… What’s with that look in your eyes?!”
“I was just wondering if you’re wearing that sort of thing yourself right now.”
“Of course I am…”
“May I touch it?”
“Here? Absolutely not!”
“If not here, then where?”
“Ugh.”
I didn’t need to look in a mirror to know my face was completely scarlet.
Rion seemed intent on deliberately seducing me. The man smiled wickedly, resting his head on my shoulder and whispering into my ear.
The sensation of his breath against my ear, the cool, clean scent emanating from his coat—it left my mind muddled and blank.
“Are all the fabrics you sell in your shop soft? I’d like to verify it for myself.”
“I’ll, I’ll send you some bolts next time! Personally, I’d recommend having shirts made from it.”
Rion shook his head with a bored expression, a slight laugh escaping.
“You said you’d take responsibility for me.”
“You can’t say things like that here!”
“Then, as compensation, you’ll have to escort me to the Royal Ball this time.”
As he finished speaking, Rion produced an ornate Invitation Letter. I hastily checked the seal—a sun, a dragon, and a lion. The date was a month away, when winter would be in full bloom.
“Why do you have a Royal Ball invitation?”
“She asked me to deliver it to you.”
“Who?”
“Isabella.”
I took a moment to deeply consider what I might have done to deserve this.
Lucian placed a sweet cookie in my mouth as I rested my forehead in my hand.
“She says to bring the child as well.”
All the blood drained from my body. Taking a child who knew nothing of malice into the heart of the brutal world of High Society, to the Royal Ball—it was as good as placing him in the path of every arrow in the world.
But…
‘That’s right. Hiding won’t solve anything.’
It was a life I was living a second time, after all.
This time, I would do things my way, stepping back out into the world.
“…If I can’t avoid it, I should do it properly.”
A few days later, I sent a letter and a gift to Princess Isabella.
* * *
If the impression of a ball is determined by the host’s taste, then Princess Isabella’s taste could certainly be called exceptional.
The Garden was dazzlingly magnificent. All the trees and flowers that became unsightly in winter had been neatly cleared away, and between the sparsely arranged evergreens in fresh colors, massive ice sculptures—each standing twice the height of a grown man—harmonized to create a fantastical landscape.
Lucian had been tense when we stepped down from the carriage, but he was quickly captivated by the Garden. I let him explore to his heart’s content, reasoning that being distracted was far better than being overly anxious.
Our visit was formally announced only after Lucian’s excitement had somewhat subsided.
The small child wandered the Garden for quite a while, seemingly oblivious to the cold, and only complained of the heat when we entered the Ballroom, which was warm to the point of being stifling. Rion lifted the child who had been holding onto my skirt, settling him in the crook of one arm.
“Will you be alright?”
He answered my question with perfect composure.
“What does it matter. He’s mine.”
Speaking softly, the two of us stepped into the Ballroom, where bright light fell without restraint.
“The Duke of Voltaine, His Excellency Rion, and the young lady of Otreh, Miss Irina.”
When the doorkeeper announced the names, every eye in the Ballroom turned toward the entrance.
The whispers that had filled the hall flickered like candle flames in wind.
A hush filled with shock descended over the Ballroom.
“Holding an Illegitimate Child…”
“What an unprecedented thing…!”
Naturally, attention fell upon me as well, for I was receiving his escort.
Today, I was fully prepared.
Rita had emerged almost like a warrior of valor, pulling out every jewelry box in the house, holding each piece to my ears and neck, exclaiming “That’s not it!” more times than I could count. I stood there meekly, wanting to cry out my apologies, accepting her passion with my entire being.
While not perfect, I could confidently say we had achieved the best possible result within our means.
But my true ace in the hole was hidden beneath the thick White Fur Coat.
An attendant approached and bowed before me—the kind of attendant found at any ball of this caliber, dedicated to managing the guests’ coats. I accepted his service while striving to maintain an elegant posture.
Beneath the White Fur Coat, the Green Dress was revealed.
At first glance, it would have seemed like an ordinary, unremarkable dress.
But when the ballroom’s light moved with the wearer, the fabric’s weave transformed. Between the layered pleats, a faint blue shimmer flickered, and with each shift in angle, hints of gold peered through for the briefest moment.
Anyone who watched long enough without looking away would understand.
Fabric that reflected countless colors in rhythm with the wearer’s movements, making them look like a single, living jewel.
This much was not excessive.
But it was unforgettable.
I endured the stares and straightened my posture.
Right now, I was nothing less than a model for this fabric—I had to appear supremely graceful and beautiful.
Please, let my nervousness stay hidden.
I placed my hand on Rion’s arm, feigning composure. I felt his arm muscles stiffen beneath my touch. When I lifted my gaze to meet his, his eyes were a deeper blue than usual, darker and more concentrated.
“Putting on an act, are we?”
Rion chuckled softly as he watched me play at elegance.
When Lucian whispered something in his ear, the man nodded in agreement. Like a child who had gained his father’s approval, Lucian’s cheeks flushed pink and he laughed—a warmth and tenderness rarely seen in a high-ranking noble that drew a soft gasp from those watching.
* * *
“Duke Voltaine.”
The first to approach our group were several gentlemen. Most of them made a desperate show of not noticing Lucian. Well, anything they said would be awkward anyway.
“Father, there’s so much here that’s beautiful!”
The ballroom’s music, the whispered voices, the bright lights—his eyes sparkled as he looked around, fascinated by it all. Lucian, eager to share something interesting with me, wriggled halfway out of Rion’s embrace and reached his hand toward me.
Rion quickly excused himself from the gentlemen and came to me. Once he set Lucian down nearby, the boy scurried over and clutched my dress hem. Surrounded by the shimmering fabric, he looked as beautiful as a jewel scattered across silk.
Contrary to the warm scene before us, the atmosphere around us plummeted with frightening speed. Some let their laughter fade. Others set down their glasses.
“As expected…….”
“Such vulgarity…….”
“……To carry him so openly like that.”
Someone deliberately fanned themselves wide.
As if to block the sight of the child and me.
I smiled toward those who whispered about me, praying that Lucian wouldn’t understand the remarks drifting through the crowd.
And then, from among the masses, someone took a step toward me.
“Lady Chastain.”
I offered a modest curtsy to the red-haired woman whose face I recognized.
“Lady Otreh.”
The gazes fixed on us burned. I didn’t need to ask what they hoped to see—that this arbiter of High Society would punish me, a woman who had dared to lose her chastity and bear an Illegitimate Child before even marriage.
“A most striking dress.”
Words spoken before all those watching—whether they were praise or censure, I could not tell.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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