Chapter 240: Chapter-240

And so the deception began.

Within a week, carefully planted rumors began circulating through the palace: ’The Empress is with child.’

The news spread like wildfire through the capital and beyond. The empire erupted in celebration. After all, this would be the first imperial heir born in decades.

Heena played her part perfectly. She allowed herself to be seen looking slightly tired, claiming morning sickness. She accepted congratulations graciously. She discussed nursery preparations with the palace staff.

Meanwhile, Larus was moved permanently into a private chamber connected directly to Heena’s office—officially so he could be near his wife during her delicate condition, but really so Heena could monitor his actual pregnancy closely.

The room was comfortable and secure, with its own entrance that only a handful of trusted guards knew about.

As the months passed, Larus’s condition became increasingly obvious to anyone who looked closely. His belly swelled. His face grew rounder. He moved with the careful waddle of someone carrying extra weight in front.

But because everyone ’believed’ it was Heena who was pregnant, they saw what they expected to see. When they noticed Larus looking tired or uncomfortable, they assumed he was worried about his wife. When he declined certain foods or activities, they thought he was being supportive of Heena’s restrictions.

The human mind sees what it expects to see, and no one expected the Emperor Consort to be the one carrying a child.

Heena, meanwhile, wore carefully padded clothing when appearing in public, creating the illusion of a growing belly. She complained about backaches and food cravings. She reduced her public appearances, citing the need for rest.

It was an elaborate performance, and it worked perfectly.

—

’’[The Pregnancy Months]’’

As Larus’s pregnancy progressed, Heena became increasingly protective.

She insisted on the best foods, the most comfortable furniture, the gentlest exercises recommended by physicians. She read every medical text about pregnancy she could find, determined to understand what Larus was experiencing.

Larus, for his part, handled the pregnancy with remarkable grace despite the physical discomfort.

He had morning sickness for the first three months—brutal nausea that left him exhausted. Heena would hold his hair back when he was sick, bring him ginger tea, sit with him until he felt better.

In the second trimester, he felt better physically but became incredibly emotional. He cried at poetry readings. He got angry over minor inconveniences. He laughed until he couldn’t breathe at things that weren’t particularly funny.

Heena handled all of it with patience and love, never making him feel foolish for his emotional responses.

In the third trimester, Larus grew large and uncomfortable. His back ached constantly. His feet swelled. He couldn’t sleep properly because no position was comfortable. He got frustrated with his body’s limitations.

But he also felt the baby move—little flutters at first, then stronger kicks and rolls. And every time he felt movement, his face would light up with wonder.

Heena would place her hand on his belly and feel their child moving, and something in her chest would tighten with an emotion she’d never experienced before.

This was ’theirs’. A life they’d created together. A future they were building.

It was terrifying and beautiful.

—

’’[The Birth]’’

When Larus went into labor, it was exactly two weeks before his due date.

Heena was in her office reviewing documents when Larus had suddenly gripped the edge of her desk, his face going pale, and said through gritted teeth, “I think… I think it’s time.”

Heena had immediately called for the trusted physician—the same elderly doctor who’d been monitoring the pregnancy in secret.

They’d moved Larus to the private chamber, sealed all the entrances, and posted Heena’s most loyal guards outside with strict orders: ’No one enters. No matter what you hear.’

The labor was long and difficult.

Larus had never experienced pain like this before. Hours of contractions, each wave more intense than the last. He gripped Heena’s hand so hard he left bruises, but she never pulled away.

She stayed beside him the entire time, whispering encouragement, wiping sweat from his forehead, breathing with him through contractions.

After six hours, the physician had examined him and said gravely, “The baby is in distress. We need to perform a surgical delivery. Now.”

A cesarean section—cutting through the abdominal wall to remove the baby directly.

It was dangerous, but necessary.

Heena had looked at Larus, who was exhausted and in pain but still conscious, and said, “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” Larus had whispered.

“Then I’m going to step outside while they work. I’ll be right here the entire time, just on the other side of the door. The moment it’s done, I’m coming back in. I promise.”

She’d kissed his forehead.

“You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this.”

Then she’d forced herself to leave the room, to let the physicians work, because watching surgical procedures was not her strength and she would only be in the way.

She stood outside the door, her hands clenched into fists, listening.

She could hear Larus’s groans of pain, his sharp gasps, his occasional cries. She could hear the physicians giving calm instructions to each other. She could hear the clinking of medical instruments.

It was the longest hour of her life.

Every sound made her want to break down the door and go to him, but she forced herself to stay outside, to trust the physicians, to let them work.

And then—finally—she heard it.

A baby’s cry.

Thin and loud and ’alive’.

Heena’s breath caught in her throat.

And then, moments later, another cry joined the first.

’Twins.’

She hadn’t known there were twins. The physicians had only detected one heartbeat.

The door opened, and the head physician emerged, tired but smiling.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty. A boy and a girl. Both healthy. And His Highness is stable—the surgery went well.”

Heena didn’t wait for permission. She pushed past him into the room.

Larus was lying on the bed, pale and exhausted, his eyes half-closed. His abdomen was bandaged from the surgery. But he was alive, and conscious, and when he saw Heena, he smiled weakly.

“We have twins,” he whispered. “Can you believe it?”

And then Heena saw them.

Two tiny bundles, each held by a midwife, both cleaned and wrapped in soft cloth.

The boy and the girl.

Her children.

’Their’ children.

She approached slowly, almost reverently, and looked down at them.

The boy had inherited Larus’s wheat-golden hair—but with streaks of Heena’s darker color running through it like natural highlights. It created a beautiful two-toned effect that was striking but not unnatural-looking. His skin was tanned like Larus’s, warm and golden.

The girl had pale skin like Heena’s original Celeste body, delicate and fair. Her hair was darker, closer to Heena’s color but with hints of Larus’s gold catching the light.

Both had their eyes closed, tiny faces peaceful in sleep.

Heena reached out with trembling hands and gently touched the boy’s soft cheek, then the girl’s.

They were so small. So fragile. So perfect.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

She looked at Larus, who was watching her with exhausted but happy eyes.

“You did this,” she said. “You brought them into the world. You’re incredible.”

“We did this,” Larus corrected softly. “Together.”

Heena carefully took the girl from the midwife, holding her daughter for the first time.

The baby made a small sound, her tiny hand curling reflexively.

And something in Heena’s chest broke open—something she’d kept locked away for so long.

Love.

Pure, overwhelming, unconditional love.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep