The Fruit of Immorality - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Fruit (Part 7)

Beatrice heard the servant’s panting voice and thought, Now they’re going to tell me Charles has finally returned to the mansion.

He had gone out last night and only returned after spending the entire night away. It was a very late return. Or perhaps she should consider herself lucky that he returned in just a day.

Beatrice gave a bitter smile.

But no, she was wrong.

“The master has passed away!”

Instead of Charles, what arrived at the mansion was the tragic news of his death.

***

It was a carriage accident.

While riding in the rain, the carriage had fallen off a steep cliff and had been destroyed beyond recognition. They said Charles’s remains were not intact either. His cause of death was clear, so no autopsy was performed.

Beatrice, barely able to stand, received the news. The words that flowed into her ears sounded distant and unreal, as though she were submerged underwater.

With a slow breath, Beatrice watched in a daze as the butler and servants, under Alessandro’s instructions, prepared for the funeral. There was nothing for her to do.

At Charles’s funeral, Beatrice could barely stand with Alessandro’s support. Her legs were so weak that she staggered.

Alessandro tried several times to send her back, but Beatrice stubbornly refused to leave.

No tears fell from her dry eyes.

She could feel the mourners pointing fingers at her.

Though they recoiled under Alessandro’s fierce gaze, she could hear them whispering behind her back as they left, calling her a heartless woman, one without blood or tears.

They pitied Charles, saying he had never cast her aside, even though she couldn’t bear a child and wasn’t capable of managing the household. Everyone had something to say as they left.

Despite such humiliation, Beatrice remained in her seat for a long time.

But as soon as the ceremony ended, secondary relatives and vassals swarmed in, discussing the future of the family. At that point, she could no longer endure it.

Alessandro, who had been holding her, soothed her and sent her back to her room.

As she left, the noise of the muttering crowd clung to her.

“But how can the Duchess manage the family? As you all know, she hasn’t even fulfilled her duties as the lady of the house.”

“We don’t even know if the child she’s carrying is a boy or a girl! If we don’t secure a proper heir—”

“Even if a legitimate heir is born, do you really think the Duchess is capable of raising them properly?”

Doubts about Beatrice echoed endlessly.

Beatrice’s steps grew slower and slower as she listened. She clenched her fists and bit her lips hard.

Then,

“The heir is already in the Duchess’s womb. I will be the guardian of that child. I will oversee things until the child comes of age and is ready to lead the family, so there’s no need for concern.”

Alessandro’s firm voice rang clearly in Beatrice’s ears, even from a distance.

The people, who had risen like a swarm of bees, fell silent. Though he was still young, everyone knew Alessandro was more than qualified to lead the family.

His early graduation from the military academy and his achievements on the battlefield were just some of the reasons why he could not be disregarded.

Once again, Alessandro silenced their objections.

“Whether it’s a boy or a girl, the heir will be the Duchess’s child.”

***

Beatrice lay in bed, unable to sleep, utterly drained. Reality still hadn’t set in. It felt like a nightmare; her mind was foggy, and her body felt heavy.

Her body, which felt like lead, was filled only with fatigue. Beatrice tossed and turned in bed, barely enduring the throbbing headache that plagued her.

How much time had passed? Were the mourners all gone? What would happen to her now? What about her and her child? Would she be able to stay here? Would she be cast out? Oh, she felt so anxious. Anxious to the point of madness.

Beatrice clasped her trembling hands together. Her nails, which had been bitten down to the quick, were bloody and in terrible condition. It was a bad habit that resurfaced whenever she felt anxious.

Beatrice didn’t even feel the stinging pain in her fingers as her body continued to tremble. Dark, ominous thoughts swirled in her mind, filling her with fear.

Since being pushed out of the funeral hall by Alessandro and left alone in the bedroom, she had been in this state. She would continue to torment herself like this until someone came to see her.

Knock, knock.

The sound of a light knock was immediately followed by the door opening and someone stepping inside. Beatrice bolted upright the moment she sensed someone’s presence.

“Bea.”

“Aless!”

Beatrice called out hoarsely to Alessandro.

Alessandro carefully examined Beatrice’s disheveled appearance. Her hair was a mess, and her nightgown was wrinkled. Her eyes were hollow, and her lips were chapped here and there.

Seeing her in such a state, Alessandro furrowed his brow.

“Bea.”

Hearing the concern in his voice, Beatrice burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

“Waaah!”

Beatrice cried uncontrollably. Charles’s death still didn’t feel real.

Why was she crying like this? She had hated him and had wished fervently for him to disappear. And yet, now that he was gone, all she wanted to do was cry.

Alessandro gently held the weeping Beatrice in his arms.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

It’s okay, Bea. Everything will be alright.

Thanks to his comforting words, Beatrice’s sobs gradually subsided.

With her face still buried in his chest, Beatrice whispered breathlessly, thanking him and telling him that he was all she had left.

As he held her, Alessandro smiled softly—though she couldn’t see it.

He continued to stroke her back as he whispered in a low voice, just loud enough for her to hear.

“And Bea…”

“Hmm?”

“There will never be any need for you to worry about the things you once feared. From now on, the only legitimate heir of the Clasis family will be your child.”

“……”

“If anyone tries to bring forward a so-called illegitimate child, I’ll take care of the fraud.”

Beatrice lifted her tear-streaked face, confusion and doubt clouding her expression.

“A fraud…?”

“Charles was incapable of fathering a child. If anyone claims to have conceived by him without any seed being sown, what else could it be but fraud?”

Beatrice’s eyes widened in shock. That means…

As he tenderly stroked her belly, Alessandro explained kindly, “So don’t worry, Bea. The only legitimate Clasis heir will be your child. No one can take your place.”

Alessandro placed a brief kiss on her forehead. The spot where his lips touched her skin felt warm.

Beatrice closed her eyes and placed her hand on her belly. She could feel the presence of another life growing inside her.

“So this child…”

As Beatrice hesitated, Alessandro wiped away her remaining tears and spoke firmly, “This is your child. Your child, and the Clasis heir.”

Alessandro’s words sounded like divine proclamation. Beatrice closed her eyes again. She placed her hands over her swollen belly, pressing down as if to calm her racing heart.

When she opened her eyes, Alessandro was there. Alessandro, Alessandro Clasis. He filled her vision completely.

Beatrice felt the intensity of his gaze on her. She smiled.

She was carrying the seed of the Clasis family. She would give birth to a child carrying the Clasis bloodline. She would become the mother of the Clasis heir.

No one could cast her out. She would remain the Duchess of Clasis until the day she died.

***

Epilogue

Alessandro had always been devoted to Beatrice, even before the birth, but after she gave birth, his affection grew even more intense.

On the day of the birth, as he waited outside the birthing room, listening to Beatrice’s pained cries, Alessandro looked as though he was the one dying.

Beatrice’s prolonged suffering pained him deeply, making him silently vow to himself, Never again will we have another child.

With a grim expression, he stared at the tightly closed door of the birthing room, feeling as though every second stretched into an eternity.

When Beatrice’s screams pierced the air, Alessandro wished that he could be the one in pain instead.

When will the baby finally come?

All Alessandro could think about was when her suffering would end, and he prayed that she would survive.

The door to the birthing room, which had been closed before the sun set, only opened in the early hours of dawn.

“It’s a boy!”

Barely registering the midwife’s words, Alessandro rushed into the room.

“Bea!”

Ignoring everything else, he ran straight to the bed where Beatrice lay. The bed was a mess, and Beatrice, panting heavily, looked even worse.

Alessandro’s face twisted in distress.

“…Aless?”

Her weak voice calling his name brought Alessandro to her side, where he knelt beside her.

“Bea.”

“Mm.”

“Bea.”

“Mm.”

Calling her name over and over, Alessandro reached out with trembling hands, gently holding her limp hand in his.

“Bea.”

Murmuring her name, Alessandro pressed his fingers to her wrist, desperately trying to feel her faint pulse. Thankfully, he could feel it—evidence that she was alive.

He pressed her hand to his cheek, the gesture filled with an almost painful yearning.

Beatrice watched him quietly, her gaze following his every move. Their eyes met for a moment, and Alessandro’s dark green eyes blurred with tears.

Then, drop by drop, his tears began to fall.

“……!”

Alessandro, the strong man who seemed capable of facing anything, was crying in front of her.

The sight of him shedding tears was so shocking that Beatrice momentarily forgot her own pain.

“Aless? Why are you crying?” she asked in a hoarse voice, and his tears only flowed more freely.

His face, contorted with agony, looked at her as if it were a miracle that she was still alive, that she could still move.

“This will never happen again.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll never let this happen to you again, never…”

Alessandro struggled to speak, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He bowed his head and took a moment to collect himself.