I Stole The Duke - Chapter 49

“Urk! Ugh!”

Eliana clutched her mouth as another wave of dry heaving overtook her. The egg sandwich she had been holding slipped from her hand and rolled to the ground.

“My lady! Are you all right?”

“……”

Freya and Joel’s eyes widened in unison.

“I-I’m fine, Sir Joel. I’m sorry, Freya. Honestly, I’ve been feeling a bit nauseous since this morning…”

Eliana covered her mouth with the back of her hand and offered a sheepish smile.

“I think I’ll skip the meal… Ah, I’ll just have this apple instead.”

What the—? She’s pregnant?

Freya’s lips parted in stunned disbelief.

Your Grace… What exactly have you done?

Morning sickness usually didn’t begin until at least two months into pregnancy. And yet, the Duchess—barely two weeks into her marriage—was already showing symptoms?

What a bastard.

Freya’s opinion of the Duke of Ascher flipped entirely. Just when had he laid a hand on that fragile-looking woman? The Duke wasn’t a romantic—he was simply a beast.

Your Excellency… Couldn’t you have held back, just a little…?

Joel, pale as a ghost, found himself thinking something blasphemous toward the lord he had always admired. The Duchess’s health had always seemed too delicate for such news.

I’m sorry, Sir Joel.

Seeing the blood drain from Joel’s face, Eliana felt a pang of guilt.

I’ll explain everything on the way back—I swear I’m not pregnant.

Whatever they were imagining, it was all a huge misunderstanding.

“Congratulations, Duchess.”

Freya, brushing aside her conflicting emotions, smiled brightly.

“Congratulations, my lady! I, Joel Terius, vow to protect you both with my life!”

Snapping back to himself at Freya’s words, Joel quickly dropped to one knee and bowed respectfully.

“It’s far too soon for congratulations. It might just be a temporary condition.”

No, Sir Joel. Seriously, it’s really not what you think!

But Joel’s gallant display of knightly loyalty had a domino effect—causing the apple in Eliana’s hand to roll away.

“Congratulations! I am Cedric Brunnois of the First Order. Even in death, I shall protect you!”

“Congratulations! I am Roswell Speaker of the First Order. I would die and die again if it meant protecting you!”

“Congratulations! I am Roanes Mikkelsen of the First Order. I shall guard you until my bones return to the soil!”

“Congratulations! I am Lucas Asbeck of the First Order. Whether I have a soul or not, I will protect you no matter what!”

“Congratulations! I am Ista Petergarde of the First Order. With unwavering loyalty, I shall remain by your side!”

The real problem began when Joel’s kneeling sparked a ripple effect among the knights.

“……”

All nine knights stationed thirty meters away dropped to one knee in turn, each one delivering their pledge with ever-more dramatic flair.

Who, exactly, was supposed to endure all this embarrassment?

E-Excuse me, gentlemen in blue…?

The target of all this awkward attention—Eliana—was burning red with embarrassment.

Why are your ears that sharp, anyway?!

Things had clearly gotten out of hand.

At last… finally!

The knights waiting in formation thirty meters away were barely containing themselves. It was a celebration twenty-seven years in the making. Had a fairy descended upon the gloomy, desolate Ascher estate at last? Would they finally hear a baby’s cry in those long-silent halls?

“……”

“……”

Though their mouths remained shut under the weight of their duty, the corners of their lips twitched. The sun was warm, the breeze was sweet, and they were far too elated to contain their expressions.

We need to report this joyous news to His Grace at once.

Their tongues itched. Their hands fidgeted. This was undeniably urgent news.

Come to think of it, His Grace gave us a carrier pigeon before we left, in case of emergencies…

In unspoken synchrony, every knight recalled the birdcage secured in the luggage compartment of the carriage.

Their eyes met midair—sparking with the same idea.

I’ll do it.

One knight from the Azure Order slowly began to inch backward, slipping away without a sound.

Ah… I’m so sorry, everyone. I swear I’ll clear this up before we get back to the estate. Just hang in there.

Completely unaware of Eliana’s inner turmoil— There’s still no decisive evidence to act on.

Michalis was reviewing the investigation report on the House of Espensen. Count Espensen’s recent movements suggested not treason, but rather a father desperate to make his only daughter the next empress.

It wasn’t treason—it was naked ambition.

Branding him a traitor would be the simplest and cleanest approach…

But neither the Countess nor the three sons had left behind any signs of a conspiracy worth pursuing.

Then… do I fabricate the evidence? No. That would be too petty.

Flap.

Just as Michalis was lost in thought, a bird flew through the wide-open window.

Don’t tell me something’s happened to Eliana?

His eyes narrowed as he spotted the pigeon perched on the rail—its leg tied with a blue ribbon. It was the emergency messenger pigeon he had assigned to Eliana’s escort that morning.

Rustle.

Michalis, growing increasingly anxious, quickly rose from his seat and untied the small scroll from the carrier pigeon’s leg.

It wasn’t encrypted—just plain, neat handwriting. The urgent message leapt out at him at a glance.

“Ha!”

The contents were so shocking that his voice caught in his throat and the strength left his hands.

Thud.
The small note slipped from Michalis’s fingers and landed lightly on the floor.

Your Grace, Her Ladyship is with child.
— Roswell Speaker, First Order of Knights

The House of Ascher was a family where heirs were rare and precious. Both the former and late Duke had been only children, and even Michalis himself was born to the Duke’s third wife—when the man was already over forty.

“Ha…”

Michalis was at a loss for words. It had only been seventeen days since the wedding. News of a pregnancy this early was something he had never imagined.

“All it took was once?”

Three seconds of joy—then came a tidal wave of dread. His vision swam.

No, not yet. It’s too soon.

Yes, it was something he had always wished for. But that wish was meant to come true after at least six months to a year of careful preparation.

Her body is so delicate… and she’s already pregnant?

The royal physician had said Eliana’s irregular cycles were due to nutritional imbalance, and that conceiving an heir would likely be difficult for some time. Trusting that assessment, he had never once bothered with contraception.

Instead, he had been careful to allow ample rest, taking into account her physical condition. Even so, over the course of their seventeen-day marriage, they had only spent two nights together.

I should have been more careful. This is entirely my fault.

Michalis’s thoughts were spiraling—burrowing straight into a dark mental pit.

How am I supposed to deal with this?

He never imagined that she’d fall pregnant so suddenly, so easily. A complete and unexpected variable. The worst-case scenarios began spinning through his mind.

She could die from childbirth.

The thought alone sent a chill down his spine. Panic and terror gripped him.

The fear of losing the Duchess.

It wasn’t just baseless worry. He had personally witnessed the deaths of three duchesses—including his own mother.

“Haa… haa…”

A trauma he hadn’t even realized was still buried inside him had resurfaced.

Michalis’s face was pale as he abruptly burst out of his office. Though his vision dimmed and his breath grew short, he couldn’t afford to waste a single second.

I will never—never let anything happen to Eliana.

He had to stay sharp. Keep his eyes open. He now had a wife to protect—and a family to take responsibility for.

“Haa…”

Pausing just outside the office to catch his breath, he finally began to steady himself.

Why are there so many useless paintings in the hallway? And why place fragile porcelain decorations out here?!

With his mind now clearer, everything in the corridor suddenly became a threat. The framed paintings on the walls looked ready to fall and crush Eliana. The expensive porcelain ornaments on display looked like they could topple over at any second.

“Steward!”

There was no time to wait for someone to answer the bell cord. Michalis headed straight to the first-floor lobby and called out as he spotted the steward passing by.

“Yes, Your Grace!”

Michalis descended the stairs in hurried strides, his expression turning grim. Why were the stair steps so narrow and steep? That, too, annoyed him.

“Your Grace? Is something the matter?”

The steward looked at Michalis in confusion, startled by the urgency in his voice.

“Remove every painting from the hallways. All decorative items—move them to storage. Lay double, no—triple layers of carpet throughout the estate. The stone pavers in the garden—they’re old and uneven. Summon craftsmen and replace every single one. And the stones along the west walking path—get rid of them, all of them. Replace every sharp-edged piece of furniture with round ones. And those stair railings—why are they like that? Replace them with something sturdier and slip-proof.”

“Y-Yes, Your Grace.”

The steward, who had started off accepting the flood of instructions with dazed obedience, now looked on the verge of fainting as the list grew ever more absurdly long.

“Y-Your Grace! Could it be…? Is Her Ladyship…?”

Realizing that there had to be a reason for this sudden overhaul, the steward fought off his dizziness and looked up at Michalis.

“That’s right. The Duchess is with child.”

“C-Congratulations, Your Grace!”

The steward’s jaw dropped at Michalis’s swift confirmation. It was the first time in twenty-seven years such news had reached the house. There was no time to waste.

“I—I’ll begin clearing the hallway immediately!”

“Good. I want everything reorganized today.”

“Yes, Your Grace! I’ll see to it without fail!”

That chandelier needs to go too.

As Michalis watched the steward rush off to summon help, his thoughts spun faster and faster.

Wait… is it safe for her to even be walking around at this stage?

He couldn’t shake the growing anxiety in his chest. There was no way he could just sit around and wait.

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