My Ex-Boyfriend Gave Birth to My Child? What Does That Mean? - Chapter 8

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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 Just Had My Child — But What Does That Even Mean? Chapter 8
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The sun hadn’t fully set, yet every candle in the Duke’s Residence’s small dining room was already lit.
An old tapestry hung on the wall, its threads embroidered with the Kingdom’s traditional decorative patterns — a scene from the ancient legend of a dragon contracted with the royal house, bestowing magic upon this land.
The ceiling was low, and the fireplace crackled with logs, radiating a gentle warmth.
Unlike the reception hall, it was humble rather than ostentatiously grand, giving the impression of a private space.
The boy paid no mind to his place setting next to Lieon Voltein and quickly settled into the seat beside me at the far end of the long table.
Lieon pointed out the boy’s behavior in a voice that betrayed almost no emotion.
“Lusian, that’s not your seat.”
“I want to sit here!”
“Lusian Voltein.”
The moment his father called him by his full name, the boy’s face crumpled. I hastily wedged myself between the two of them as tension crackled across the dinner table.
“Well, what does it matter? We can just move the place setting. It’s fine if he sits next to me.”
“Mom!”
“Well, not mom, but — not mom, technically.”
“But you are though…….”
Across the long table, Lieon Voltein stared at me as I flustered and at Lusian as he began to tear up, then spoke flatly.
“Then so will I.”
“Pardon?”
In an instant, a place setting appeared on each side of me.
Sandwiched between a dazzlingly precious boy and a dazzlingly beautiful man, I felt myself shrinking smaller by the second. With both of them staring directly at me, I genuinely wanted to find a mouse hole and bury my head in it.
But then.
What if the food arrived?
“……It’s so good……!”
I focused on eating despite the piercing gazes fixed upon me.
I needed a full stomach before any fighting started.
Someone here certainly wasn’t pleased that I’d been out since morning for several days in a row.
* * *
I knew Pascal Ocker would come for me.
There was something he needed from me.
No matter how wealthy Pascal was — ranking among the top five richest merchants in the Kingdom — his common birth made marriage to a noblewoman far from simple.
In aristocratic circles, a Class-Disparate Marriage was fundamentally a humiliation. Perhaps for a widow like my mother, remarrying once or twice was acceptable, but few parents would willingly marry off their daughter to a commoner. And if that man came with an illegitimate child attached? Even less likely.
In other words, Pascal too found himself in urgent circumstances.
So how could he not be frustrated, burning with impatience, when I — the one who was supposed to come crawling to him the very next day, beg forgiveness, and cry “Please, marry me!” — had sent no word at all?
Yet it seemed Pascal was more desperate than I’d anticipated.
Without waiting for a servant to open the door, Pascal Ocker burst into the reception room himself, and he did not come alone.
Behind him came a man in neat attire, followed by an elderly priest in ceremonial robes.
Having invaded the House Otreha’s reception room without leave, Pascal slammed a document onto the table with a sharp bang. Even upside down, I could tell it was a Marriage Certificate.
My name was written on the first line of the certificate.
Today’s date was precisely filled in, and even some of the witness lines were already signed — it was a real Marriage Certificate.
“If we proceed now, this marriage can still be finalized. Irina, sign.”
Schule, the master of House Otreha, was completely overwhelmed by the force of it.
“Ah, where do I sign?”
As Schule fumbled to find a quill, the neatly dressed man stopped him.
“Irina Otreha must sign personally.”
“Who — who are you?”
“Pardon the intrusion. I am the lawyer for House Ocker. On this occasion, Pascal Ocker kindly requested me to serve as a witness to the betrothal, and I am honored to be present.”
Sensing the other man’s intellectual advantage, Schule deflated at once.
I opened my mouth on his behalf.
“And the gentleman standing behind — you’re the priest who will conduct the marriage vows?”
“Every marriage requires the blessing of the divine.”
“Is this even a proper betrothal?”
“Haven’t the witnesses already signed?”
There he was, spouting comfortable words in the face of what was plainly a hasty, informal ceremony. His nerve was genuinely remarkable.
Arms crossed, I fixed Pascal with a direct stare.
“You’re planning to just gloss over the fact that you have a child?”
“I’ll give you any newborns that come.”
“What?”
“Raise them from infancy. I’ll have Lea sent to the Distant Branch, and you can tell the boy his birth mother died. That way he’ll understand your kindness and obey you all the better.”
“Lea Bestin agreed to that?”
“Lea doesn’t know yet. But she’s a Great Merchant’s daughter too—she’ll make a wise choice.”
It was the words of a man who believed every wrong in the world could be repaid with adequate compensation.
My mother, who had been standing behind us all this time, brightened visibly and stepped forward.
“That’s an excellent solution! Then she’ll forget her real mother and follow you like a true parent. The whole family can live happily together without any problems.”
Of course, I harbored no such intention whatsoever.
“I’ve said it countless times. I will not consent to this marriage.”
“So you’d rather watch House Otreha lose its title and crumble?”
Pascal smiled with a thin, bloodless expression.
“You’re only useful to House Otreha as long as it retains its title. Surely you know that.”
He spoke with the measured tone of someone revealing a tremendous secret.
“Recently, House Otreha’s bonds have been moving quite suspiciously. One might even call it a prelude to title seizure. Do you understand the situation now?”
I released an inward sigh of relief.
Indeed—having kept my eyes so carefully averted, there was no way this man could know those bonds were in my possession.
“I’ll be honest with you.”
“About what?”
“Conditions, terms—all of it. Nothing remains for me but disgust toward you. I cannot live a married life with such a man.”
The air in the drawing room became heavy in an instant. The sharp gazes of my mother and brother, the contemptuous looks from House Ocker’s side as though observing a foolish woman—each one pricked my skin. But my resolve was absolute.
Today, I would end this connection completely.
“Family matters are for family to settle. Pascal Ocker, this isn’t your concern. I will never become Irina Ocker.”
I pushed the Marriage Certificate across the table and lifted my chin.
“Goodbye.”
Before the cleric and lawyer and third parties, Pascal’s face flushed crimson with anger and disbelief, offering no room for rebuttal.
But the greater fury erupted not from him—it came from our side.
“Irina! What are you saying?”
“Irina Otreha, you ungrateful wretch!”
My mother and brother leapt like fish thrown into boiling water and seized me.
As my mother gripped one arm, Schule came rushing over and pressed a quill dipped in ink into my hand with desperate eyes, as though the Marriage Certificate were our last lifeline.
“Sign it!”
“Sign!”
Whether I resisted or not, both of them tightened their grip on my arm and tried to force my hand to sign.
This frantic, ridiculous spectacle—Pascal Ocker watched it all with arms folded, sneering.
His contemptuous smile only hardened my certainty. I could bear this mockery no longer.
“Stop.”
The trembling pen was barely inches from the Marriage Certificate when I cried out.
“Stop!”
Boom. A vibration erupted from my body, and the drawing room’s windows shook in unison, emitting a sound like the prelude to an earthquake. Startled, everyone took a step back from me.
Sometimes these people behaved as though they’d completely forgotten I was a mage.
The Magic Tower had a standing rule against using magic on people, true—but it was merely a guideline, nothing absolute.
To protect myself, I could wield magic as freely as I chose.
“Let me say this once more……”
The Marriage Certificate floating in the air began to tear slowly in half, producing a dull ripping sound.
“I’m not having this wedding.”
The document split into two pieces, then four with a shred-shred, tearing through into eight, sixteen, thirty-two—until at last it lost all recognizable form, transformed into something like paper petals.
Among the motionless figures, white paper flowers scattered beautifully, like spring cherry blossoms.
And in that instant, Pascal’s party and my own family were crushed to the ground, unable even to draw breath.
“Irina, stop……!”
Before Schule’s scream could even fully escape his mouth, I silenced him by gripping his throat with an invisible hand of pure magical force.
“Trying to force a mage to sign. Do you all believe you have multiple lives to spare?”
The moment I finished speaking, someone screamed from beyond the window.
I slowly released my magic.
“Pascal.”
“……!”
Pascal’s face had drained of all color. He gathered what little dignity remained and glared at me.
“Don’t bother pretending to humor me. In this life, don’t be greedy. Build a beautiful home with Lea instead.”
At this, Schule, collapsed on the floor, cried out in a trembling voice.
“What about the debt?”
A truly pathetic man until the very end.

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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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