Winter Bud - Chapter 56

The dinner table was lavish. Instead of the long dining table, Nanna sat at a round one and looked at the meal prepared by the palace chef. The spread was so grand that calling it a feast wouldn’t be an exaggeration, and it was much more extravagant than usual, almost showy.

At the center of the table was a whole young pig in the Oric style, along with various poultry dishes seasoned with a mix of spices. A fish dish that looked like northern court-style skewered eel, and a pheasant dish prepared with truffles from the fertile southern region, were also laid out. Confirming the Emperor had taken his seat at the head, Nanna sat beside him and stared at the pot-au-feu. Her mild morning sickness made her feel slightly queasy.

The Emperor, having finished state affairs, willingly accepted the dinner invitation. Nanna, who’d secretly hoped he’d decline using dinner with the Empress as an excuse, was left feeling awkward. But when servants sent by the Emperor filled the Western Palace in the afternoon, she resigned herself to the situation.

Nanna looked at her son, who was sneaking glances at his father, then turned her gaze. As she picked up her knife to carefully slice the young pig, the Emperor took the knife from her hand and placed a piece of tender meat steamed with salted roe onto her plate.

Then he served good portions onto Slan and Stella’s plates in turn.

“Eat.”

The Emperor spoke to the hesitant Crown Prince and Princess. His tone was noticeably softer than before. As a young monarch with a military background, he had always spoken to his young daughter and son in a very strict manner. He’d shown no leniency even to his sensitive daughter, which seemed to surprise Stella a bit. Still, she quickly pretended not to react and picked up her utensils.

Nanna thought of Alexis. Alexis, still young and needing his mother’s care, hadn’t been shown to her at all. Ever since she brought it up, it felt like the Emperor was keeping him even further away. No matter how much she asked, she heard nothing about how the child was doing.

“Is your stomach upset?” the Emperor asked, seeing Nanna only picking at her food.

Nanna shook her head. It wasn’t bad. Her morning sickness wasn’t too severe yet. Nanna took a bite of the tender meat with salted roe and soft sauce.

“If it doesn’t suit your taste, you don’t have to eat.”

The Emperor studied Nanna carefully. She shook her head. It was an unfamiliar kindness. An unwanted one, too. It was just that this situation felt uncomfortable and unfamiliar. She was afraid she’d be scolded again. She tried to eat as gracefully and elegantly as possible, making sure she didn’t look greedy.

“Eat a little more.”

When she set down her knife on the plate, the Emperor served her more food and urged her. Nanna glanced darkly at him before lowering her gaze. Just then, Slan, who had been watching his father’s expression, opened his mouth.

“Mom. You should eat a little more.”

His young voice was tense. Nanna glanced at her son, then looked at the Emperor. He didn’t meet her eyes. Slan, looking anxious, handed Nanna a piece of bread. It was soft bread with cinnamon and honey. With a stiff face, Nanna took the bread her son offered.

She couldn’t tell how the dinner ended. After sending Slan and Stella off in the carriage, she turned to the Emperor. He was looking down at Nanna leisurely, as if he had no intention of leaving this time either.

“Let’s go in now.”

“Aren’t you going back, Your Majesty?”

“I’m going to stay with you.”

“…Is it because I’m pregnant?” Nanna asked.

Orestes, who was about to turn around, looked back. Perhaps because she was pregnant, her face looked even paler than usual. He quietly stared at the small woman. Her lips moved slightly, as if she had something to say, a sight not unlike the sullen Stella who’d lower her gaze in silence. He quietly waited for her.

“Do you have something to say?” he asked in a low voice.

The woman opened her mouth with, ‘Slan…’ but trailed off. Orestes read the dark shadow on her face. He thought of his young son. Was he seven now? The tutor who taught the boy said he was very bright and diligent. Compared to his sister, who was a year younger, he was gentle and calm.

Even as a baby, not yet even flushed with color, the child had been quiet. Even when he cried, it sounded more like a kitten’s whimper. Nanna often wandered around holding the newborn. She would frequently stand before him with teary eyes, as if begging for a sliver of attention.

But he had no particular affection for his son. Not because the child was born of Nanna, but simply because he had no interest in such a young being. A newborn was just a lump of flesh, and even a slightly older child was bothersome. It was natural to make mistakes, and since they were clumsy in expression, one always had to treat them with patience. To him, children were rather difficult beings.

Thea also didn’t like children very much, so Orestes had been quietly satisfied that they didn’t have one between them. If Thea had given birth, the child would surely have grown up lacking affection. According to the nanny who was quite seasoned in caring for infants, no matter how hard the nanny or tutor tried, a child needed the warm care and affection of their parents. But Orestes, by his own admission, had almost no paternal love.

Even when his own father was alive, he never received proper affection. So the idea of loving a child was extremely difficult. A child was someone you had to face with patience and generosity, consistently. Moreover, how about Thea?

Before she fell into her deep sleep, Thea had wanted to conceive as a wife and as an Empress, but she wasn’t particularly fond of children either. The result would’ve been obvious. Orestes found it quite satisfactory that a woman like Nanna, who loved children, gave birth to his.

Of course, she sometimes fussed over the children excessively and whined, but when he saw Nanna holding the children who looked just like him, he felt a strange thrill.

“…Why are you doing that to Slan?”

“What?”

“You’re pressuring him.”

“I never did that.”

Orestes furrowed his brow slightly. Nanna’s face twisted faintly. He suppressed the anger rising in him and thought of his eldest son. Was it because he lacked paternal love? When Slan was born, he felt only a bit of relief.

The Empress Dowager had insisted the child was healthy and lovely and urged him to form a bond, but even without his affection, the child still received plenty of care simply for being his son. So couldn’t the boy serve him now? He was seven, old enough to understand words.

“Your Majesty.”

Nanna called him in a desperate voice. The clinging voice was quite pleasant to hear, but the woman who only brought up the son’s story in this moment, when only the two remained, wasn’t very pleasing.

Of course, Nanna had to be desperate. She always had to long for him, always had to look at him with yearning eyes. That was a given. Nanna liked him. Loving him was her duty. Besides, Nanna was a woman in a precarious position. Politically and socially, her footing was weak.

Even if the eldest son was the Crown Prince, he wasn’t particularly favored, and the only princess was extremely sensitive and difficult, often incurring his displeasure. Moreover, both children were currently registered under the Empress.

So Nanna had to be even more desperate for him. If she wanted something, she had to fight fiercely for it, and she had to act like a temptress who left him dazed. Only then would he waver.

He wanted Nanna to blush again when she saw him, just like before. To smile bashfully, then flush. To wander around tearfully seeking his attention, trying to return to the palace.

But….

“I don’t think Alexis is Your Majesty’s son.”

That baby who hadn’t even been weaned. The child she claimed was his, yet then said wasn’t. What was she trying to say? What did she want, bringing up such a pointless claim and scratching him all over?

He had intended to overlook the incident with the Duke. It only happened once, and Nanna herself tried to gloss over it as a mistake.