Pregnancy Is Too Muc Chapter 64

Novel: Pregnancy Is Too Muc Author: NovelBin Updated:
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He never had any intention of getting rid of the child from the beginning.

He couldn’t send the poor victimized child back to heaven’s embrace with his own hands.

The child had the right to co into the world and grow up in a proper family. Just as Reynard, the child’s other father, wanted.

[You wouldn’t arbitrarily get rid of the only heir to the Dennox Grand Duke’s family.]

Reynard’s warning that wasn’t a warning, whispered in Valentine’s ear, flashed through his mind.

[Where do you think an oga carrying my child can go?]

In fact, his words were right.

No matter how much ti he gave, Valentine would have had no choice but to choose this anyway.

His father and mother, and uncle, who ca to his room every day to embrace and worry about him.

He had grown up hearing words of love from his family every day. He had grown up among family mbers who always listened to his opinions, suffered together when he was sick, and knew how to share joy together.

How could he, who grew up in such a warm family, deprive a child of a ho with both parents. In such a harsh class-based society, not the modern society he lived in in his past life…! Moreover, it was a society overlaid with strict morals and doctrines. How could he, living in such a world, attach the label of illegitimate child from the start, with his own hands at that.

How could he attach the label of an impious child not born within the frawork of marriage from birth? The child would be condemned by all of society for life.

Thinking of this made him feel unbearable. To think that a young life that should receive all blessings upon coming into the world would not be able to receive a proper baptism from the priest, and ultimately would not be able to obtain a baptismal na to be called in love.

“That can’t happen…”

It was no longer ti to foolishly cling to his own freedom or life goals.

Because the child had been conceived due to his mistake and he had to take responsibility for it.

It wasn’t sothing to cry over with sudden emotion, or to feel wronged about. It was no different from spilling a painting that hadn’t even dried yet onto a gravel road while having fun recklessly. Now he had to set the ruined painting back on the easel. And he needed to fix the damaged parts by painting over them again. Because he was an adult, as he always said with his own mouth. Because adults had to take responsibility for their actions. So he had no right to lant over lost freedom.

‘Everything falls short…’

In the end, he had no choice but to choose marriage.

It was the best path he could choose among the various paths Reynard had suggested. Even if it wasn’t the path he wanted most.

Valentine finished his thoughts. And he decided to act before his hard-won resolve could change.

He got up with his dizzy body and went to the room that served as a small study and workspace, sitting at the desk. He opened the drawer and took out writing paper.

His hand dipping the pen nib into the inkwell was unwavering, but when faced with the paper, the pen lost words and shed black tears, leaving stains on the white background.

Looking at the few drops of ink that had fallen, Valentine rubbed his stinging nose and took out new writing paper, and this ti wrote down the letters without hesitation.

To the esteed Lord Reynard Dennox.

I will accept your marriage proposal.

From Valentine Wiche.

He had no energy to write any embellishnts.

Only dry will was holding the pen.

He folded the paper with just the bare essentials written on it into an envelope before the ink had even fully dried. He quickly lted sealing wax and sealed it completely. Then he called Dawson and ordered him to send the letter imdiately. He left with the letter, wearing a complicated expression.

Valentine was thus left alone in his room.

A stillness where not even a curtain moved was consuming everything.

In the quiet room with no one else, the young man who had just beco an adult buried his face in his arms on the desk. As if creating a grave for sothing nad freedom. He buried them deeply between darkness and the desk.

It was a one-day limited tearful allowance that soone who thought he had no right to cry had barely granted himself.

He remained face down in that position without moving. The clock hands flowed by behind Valentine like this.

Until the faithful butler Dawson, who had returned after sending the letter, sighed and could not even bring himself to knock upon hearing the sobbing sound full of wetness leaking out from the room.

For such a long ti, that place was plunged into dark grief.

Fiancé

The Viscount Wiche’s office.

The office was concise, businesslike, and neat in keeping with its purpose, but overall it was bright, perhaps because of the Wiche family’s characteristically bright and splendid interior decoration as a base.

Today’s guest, visiting this place for the first ti, fixed his eyes on the carved white ceiling and moldings. And he naturally shifted his gaze along the faint white rose pattern gently engraved on the sky blue silk wallpaper.

The person facing the Viscount with a sullen expression this ti was Shane, Reynard’s aide.

“Then we will keep this safely here and use and submit it on the wedding day.”

The atmosphere was relatively much less tense than when Reynard and Viscount Wiche had sat face to face last ti. Shane’s characteristic businesslike kindness with the nuance of ‘I am here on business’ was shining through.

“Thank you for entrusting it to us.”

Shane said, looking at the thin tal box in the Viscount’s hand. There were no words like “I’ll give this to you” or “I’ll take good care of it.” But Shane spoke smoothly as if he had heard empty praise like “You’ve worked hard.”

Once that troubleso thing was finally in his hands, everything would be resolved.

Shane’s eyes, which had almost reached the finish line, glead.

That shiny box with the crest of the noblest family in the empire gorgeously embossed! Inside it were the most important docunts such as the formal marriage proposal, the marriage certificate to be signed by the bishop, both parties’ baptismal certificates, and the Emperor’s letter of recomndation. Now if they just had the docunts, this wedding project was more than half complete. No, the two were already as good as married. Shane was getting too far ahead looking at the box.

Thinking that his main task was finally almost over, Shane grabbed his fluttering heart and snorted. And he politely extended both hands towards the Viscount. The words “Please give

that precious and valuable thing quickly!” were clearly visible on his face.

Seeing that face, the Viscount felt mischievous for no reason. He stopped his hand that was about to hand it over and opened his mouth.

“The tea has gone cold.”

He gestured to the butler standing behind him to order hot tea anew. He was deliberately adding leisure to make that anxious face even more anxious. The one he actually wanted to tornt and tease wasn’t Shane in front of him. But if the person himself wasn’t there, then at least his subordinate, this strange mischief had risen.

This ti, the words “Bla your superior” were floating on the Viscount’s face.

Hot tea that was steaming white was placed on the table again. Shane lifted the rose-patterned teacup out of courtesy and sipped the Ceylon tea.

“It seems you’re already preparing for the wedding.”

“Yes. We’ve almost completed all preparations on our side.”

“You’re quite ahead.”

To the Viscount’s words spoken with a snort, a smooth answer that seed prepared in advance flowed from the smiling face.

“Isn’t it a marriage His Majesty also earnestly desires? We are preparing as quickly and accurately as possible.”

At tis like this, the power of authority was indeed the best. Shane did not ntion the na of his superior, which seed unlikely to be effective, and instead used the excuse of the Emperor, the highest authority. It was the seasoned and heavy social life experience of soone who had rolled under a rough superior for over 10 years.

“The nuptial mass will be at the cathedral?”

“That’s right. The Archbishop has agreed to officiate.”

“You’re very well prepared indeed.”

“Of course. His Majesty the Emperor is waiting for the two families to form a good connection as soon as possible.”

The Emperor probably doesn’t know his na is being sold so cheaply like this. Well, for a marriage he wanted so much, what does it matter if his na is sold a bit… He had already put down all his pride regarding the Grand Duke’s family’s marriage. Shane was convinced that if the greedy Emperor had wanted to push his na to be used, he would have pushed it long ago. And the Viscount knew this well after the recent summons.

Knowing all this, the Viscount’s face twitched but he couldn’t raise any more objections.

Didn’t he just receive direct pressure from the Emperor last week… The Emperor sat the Viscount down and strongly insisted that their marriage must happen, as if he were the groom’s father. He had even heard the words “This is an order” that he couldn’t bring himself to tell his son. The Viscount’s body trembled with anger as he recalled this thought again.

“The petty and dirty power of authority…”

Thanks to that, a storm brewed in the tea in the cup he was holding.

“Pardon?”

When Shane, who hadn’t heard the Viscount’s muttering clearly, asked again, a curt answer ca.

“It’s nothing!”

Along with fierce anger, he pushed the box containing the docunts onto the table.

Finally, the most important thing was being handed over. Shane’s eyes sparkled as he extended both hands to receive the box.

“Thank you.”

Although he had risen from his seat and bowed to receive the docunts, even giving thanks, the box that had barely touched his hands did not co over easily.

‘What’s this…?’

The Viscount, who had been holding the other side, was gripping it tightly with his knuckles turning white and not letting go.

“Viscount? This… this please…!”

“Dirty power…!”

After the two n pulled the docunt box back and forth several tis over the table as if in a tug of war.

“Got it!”

Shane, the younger and trained soldier, beca the winner who claid the box.

“Thank you! I’ll visit again soon!”

It was natural that he ran away before it could be taken back.

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