Pregnancy Is Too Much For The Villain-Chapter 170

On top of the massive black horse, towering above everything like a figure out of a dream, was his husband.

"Reynard!"

Valentin called out in a voice that was almost a cry of relief.

The white mist that erupted from his lips—was it longing or desperation?

The frosty wind that wrapped around his slender legs as he ran—was it the manifestation of his aching heart?

Even the biting cold that sliced against his cheeks felt like a welcoming sensation to the one who had been waiting so long for this moment.

As the silhouette of his beloved, outlined by the backlight of the rising sun, grew closer, his vision filled with warmth.

"Valentin!"

From the man atop the horse came the same voice, filled with emotion and joy, calling out his name.

It was as if he couldn’t hold back anymore, as if not calling out that precious name would cause his entire being to explode with emotion. That name, filled with love and longing, burst forth, raw and powerful.

As Valentin came into view, Reynard, without even properly stopping the horse, leaped down effortlessly. And despite the cold dawn, with his fingers pale from the chill, Reynard ran toward his husband, the horse galloping away behind him, abandoned to the empty road. Reynard ran as fast as he could on his own two legs, desperate to reach the one he loved, to embrace him.

And at last, the two bodies met, tightly embracing one another.

It was as if they were two halves of the same whole, as if they had been one lump of clay that had been split apart at the beginning of time. Their bodies came together so naturally, without a single gap between them, like pieces returning to their original form.

Valentin reached up with his pale hand, touching Reynard’s face, which had noticeably thinned and grown gaunt during his absence.

"You… you’re back…."

It was all he could manage to say, like a fool.

Running his hand over his husband’s sunken cheeks, his lips trembled as he tried to speak. The only words that escaped him were a simple greeting, welcoming Reynard back home. His heart, full of overwhelming emotions, threatened to spill over, and if he tried to express anything more, he feared he would burst into tears. So, between his chattering teeth, those simple words tumbled out.

Understanding Valentin’s feelings, Reynard gently reached out and wiped the tears that had been flowing ceaselessly down his cheeks. His voice, filled with regret, gratitude, and relief, answered in return.

"I’ve returned."

"Yes…."

"I’m back, Valentin."

"Hm… You… you’ve really come back."

"Don’t cry, my love."

"Hmm…"

"Thank you for waiting. Thank you for being with me again."

Through the tears that blurred his vision, Valentin shook his head slightly.

"I’m sorry. And I love you. Forgive me, Reynard. Let’s never be apart again…."

There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to start. So Valentin managed to say the most important things, the only words that truly mattered.

"That’s what I should say, Valentin. I’m sorry for loving you so much. I’m sorry for letting my greed and selfishness drive us apart. Let’s never be separated again."

There was no need for further explanations or excuses.

Valentin clung to Reynard, their arms wrapped tightly around each other as he rose onto his tiptoes. With urgency, he pulled Reynard’s head down, bringing their lips together in a kiss.

Even though it wasn’t spring, a butterfly seemed to bloom between their lips, rising and soaring into the air.

Dawn...

The first light of the bright new day was fully breaking.

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The Path Their Hands Held Together

---

The long, disordered funeral for the emperor finally came to an end after many days.

Ordinary laborers, busy with the daily struggle to make a living, and the citizens who wandered the clocktower square of Eldon began to put the major events of the past behind them, returning to their everyday lives.

The storm that had once swept through Heston gradually calmed, allowing life to return to its normal rhythm.

Although the upper echelons of society remained far from peaceful, the majority of the citizens found comfort in the return of their everyday routines. This, at least, provided some solace to the new emperor, Empress Allison Leopold.

Amid the chaos of dealing with her father’s scandalous death and the crimes of her younger brother, she struggled to adjust to her role as the newly crowned empress, reworking the administrative structure to suit her reign. In a rare moment of free time, she stole away with a few trusted aides to secretly visit the Rutheon House. It wasn’t an official visit, but simply a private meeting with old friends.

And so, Denox’s young couple, unexpectedly hosting the emperor herself, greeted her with smiles, welcoming her warmly.

The quiet sound of tea being poured filled the flower-decorated drawing room, which was one of Valentin’s favorites.

"It’s an absolute honor to have you visit us personally, especially in such busy times..."

"Enough with the formalities, Valentin. I’d prefer if you treated me like always, without all the pomp and ceremony."

Allison, clearly tired of the excessive reverence that came with her position, gave Valentin a wry smile. Valentin, seeing the familiar ease in her expression, chuckled quietly and closed his mouth. He found comfort in the fact that her straightforward nature had not changed, despite her new position.

Valentin gazed at her, his smile lingering. Allison’s appearance was simple and practical, even humbler than that of most noblewomen. She wore no extravagant jewelry or embellishments, only refined attire with ink stains lightly marking the cuff of her right sleeve—evidence of her industrious nature.

Removing her hat and handing it to her aide, she shook off the dew that had gathered in her hair from the morning mist. Though it was slightly improper, the gesture expressed her familiarity with her hosts, and neither Valentin nor Reynard minded. In fact, it made them feel even more at ease.

"If you’re this busy, you could’ve summoned us to the palace," Valentin remarked, noticing the dark circles under her eyes.

Allison laughed softly. "There’s no need to drag you to a place where neither of you had any fond memories."

It was a considerate remark, acknowledging Reynard’s wrongful imprisonment and Valentin’s suffering at the hands of the Third Prince Clifton during their youth.

Allison gently placed a slice of orange into her tea, stirring it with a silver spoon. A light, citrusy fragrance wafted up. She took a sip, then set the cup down with a quiet clink, looking intently at the couple before her.

"This victory belongs to you."

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Her gaze locked onto Valentin’s face, serious and unyielding.

"A victory won not with guns and swords, but with pens and brushes."

Her expression was firmer than Valentin had ever seen.

The empress truly believed that Valentin had played an invaluable role in what they had achieved. Her eyes shone with the same admiration as she looked at Reynard.

"And your husband, Marquis, was the ‘architect’ of this victory."

Over the course of the past year, they had walked a shared path, guided by the same ideals, hopes, and determination. However, to hear it described as a "victory" in such simple terms made Valentin feel conflicted. Could something so complex and mired in social upheaval be reduced to just a "victory"? Though he felt uncertain, Valentin did not voice his concerns. From the empress’s perspective, it was indeed a triumph.

"I don’t want you both to fade into the background as mere victims of this mess. Don’t you think the world should know the truth?" Allison proposed, her expression turning serious once more.