My Ex-Boyfriend Gave Birth to My Child? What Does That Mean? - Chapter 56
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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 was born through me? Episode 56
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Julian pleaded with me through tears for quite some time before finally extracting a promise that I would investigate Simon Mercier, then withdrew with unexpected docility.
After seeing Julian out of the reception room, Cyril—who had been standing quietly like a shadow in the darkness—laid out his assessment matter-of-factly.
“It appears almost certain that Simon Mercier is connected to the Ocker Family.”
“Isn’t it?”
I nodded, stretching my limbs—which had begun to go numb from the prolonged crying and talk of romance—as I worked the stiffness out of them.
“We’ll need to verify whether Julian saw things correctly, but in the first place, it’s impossible for a dressmaking business to be thriving in the Otreha Territory, where luxury goods don’t sell. The likelihood that someone made bulk purchases to create the appearance of brisk trade is quite high.”
No matter how excellent the informants from the duchy might be, anyone posing as a merchant is bound to face various constraints in their movements.
When it came to Simon Mercier’s case, there was no way to match someone with an abundance of time who had been stalking their target all along.
I collected my thoughts briefly and continued.
“If Pascal Ocker’s hand reached this far… it would be safer to assume that Mother and Schule have learned that the Argent Merchant Guild truly belongs to me.”
“Are you suggesting they used the Countess’s romantic entanglements to transmit information?”
“That couldn’t be their only objective, though.”
I rose from the sofa.
As I walked slowly toward the door, information lined up methodically on the shelves of my mind. And among those densely packed pieces of knowledge, a book with a crimson spine emerged with startling clarity—the sharpest blade that Schule and Mother could wield against me.
‘……No matter how much I argue, the fact that I never gave birth remains unchanged. This is a weakness that Pascal Ocker, and both Mother and Schule, know all too well.’
For one thing, Pascal Ocker could not denounce me alone.
To accuse me of never having given birth, he—a commoner merchant—would have had to reveal that he had been watching a noblewoman before the betrothal was even arranged.
Schule Otreha, my precious brother, wants to blackmail me with this matter. But according to Noah’s testimony, Mother retained enough sound judgment to fear Leon Voltaine.
Schule had never known how to scheme in his life. He delegated most thinking to Mother or his wife and simply wanted to feel like he was investing in something.
From Pascal Ocker’s perspective, Mother’s very existence was an obstacle.
Using a man was a clever tactic.
It was a universal truth, regardless of gender, that one could be swayed by intimate whispers from someone who shared one’s bed.
‘A new lover with a sharp mind for business’ whispering in Schule’s ear would have a high chance of winning over even Mother, who had until now held back his recklessness.
“……He probably wouldn’t dare try to extort money from Leon, but I imagine he’d think he could swallow the Argent Merchant Guild.”
“How could they possibly dare.”
“They’re people who don’t think about consequences. The moment they learned the Argent Merchant Guild was mine, they’d want to seize the money quickly rather than wait for my divorce.”
If my previous life had been like rowing a small boat across a boundless sea, this life, granted to me a second time, was like setting sail on a proper vessel with billowed sails.
If I knew the direction of the wind, I could sail wherever I wished.
“Amusing, really. The people who pushed so hard to marry me off are now all hoping for my annulment instead.”
Of course, knowing all this, I couldn’t simply let them have their way.
I resolved to reinforce my defenses all the more.
* * *
Before lunch, I asked Rita, who was humming cheerfully as she arranged my hair, “I’ve looked all morning and can’t find that boy Peron anywhere. Do you happen to know where he is?”
Rita answered in her bright voice.
“Oh! You mean that boy who plays so wonderfully with the children—the one you brought on as a stable hand? Between you and me, what a bargain you made! It’s so rare to find a child who works so well and is so diligent these days.”
“A stable hand?”
“Hasn’t he been cleaning out the horse manure in the stable every dawn?”
Rita tilted her head in confusion.
I tilted mine just as much, asking, “I never assigned him to stable work, though?”
“Really? But except when he’s playing with the children, he’s almost always in the stable… oh, mistress! Wait just a moment! Your hair isn’t done yet!”
Rita grabbed me just as I was about to dash off, going about her business regardless of my impatient foot-tapping, before finally nodding once she was satisfied with my appearance.
“You can go now! Peron is probably in either the stable or the attic.”
“The attic? Why?”
“There’s so much dust up there, he said? He worried it might not be good for health if it’s left alone. Quite serious about it, actually!”
It truly wasn’t something to laugh off.
I ran toward the stable, imagining Vivian’s phantom punching me.
As I headed to the stable, I encountered several servants along the way and learned a few additional facts from our conversations.
Namely, that Peron was extraordinarily diligent.
The cleaning staff praised how meticulously he mopped floors, and the kitchen maids lauded his dishwashing skills. It was nothing but praise—that he was thorough, meticulous, and surprisingly skillful for his age.
So when I finally spotted him, wearing worn work clothes and gathering hay for the horses with a rake, my feelings were as follows:
“You! I never even gave you a proper wage!”
Peron stood quietly, rake in hand, his expression one of bewilderment.
“You’re providing me with sponsorship.”
“That’s pocket money!”
I took the rake from his hands. The stable master, who had been watching our exchange, approached with a confused expression.
“Mistress, what wrong has Peron done? Surely there’s been some misunderstanding! This child is truly diligent. A perfect apprentice stable hand, really.”
“That’s not it—! Goodness, this one is no stable hand!”
“I beg your pardon?”
His expression mirrored my own bewilderment.
“But I’ve been doing stable work all this time, sir?”
I felt a despair so keen I could have wept.
It was all my fault!
“This one is my apprentice!”
“Your what?”
The employees, who had been pretending not to listen to our exchange, erupted in astonished voices from all quarters.
“Pardon?”
“What did you say?”
“That can’t be right!”
From the garden, the estate windows, and inexplicably from atop the small stable roof—voices rang out, each one unmistakably covetous of this diligent young worker.
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Let me offer a word in my own defense.
I had not tasked Peron with household duties.
I simply wanted him to rest and gradually acclimate to the estate. Surely you understand—how one settles into a room of one’s own for the first time, reflecting on one’s past life.
I thought he needed time for introspection, having lived his entire existence as a priest in training before being forcibly cast out of the Temple.
Then why had I assigned him to look after Lucian, Emil, Noah, and Evening? As if caring for children were a trifle?
‘Well, of course I wanted him to bond with them!’
It absolutely, positively did not mean “Work hard labor while the children sleep!”
To my hasty explanation, Peron replied with composure.
“I did not find the work arduous at all, sir.”
“That’s not the issue!”
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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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