I Decided to Let You Go (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3
By threatening Kayena, he learned where the princess was staying. She had been exchanging letters all along with one of the kingdom’s knights, from whom news of the princess’s well-being came.
Zieghart scoured every region and village mentioned in those letters.
And at last, he found the princess.
“I have no intention of marrying you.”
Unexpectedly, what came from the woman was a refusal.
Maybe he should have just threatened her instead. Zieghart felt weary of this unnecessarily drawn-out affair. He should have simply dragged her off like baggage and seated her at the wedding.
No—what if she ran away again? For Zieghart, who needed to get away from Kail as soon as possible, having to search for her once more would be nothing but a nuisance.
“Might I ask how things stand with Her Highness?”
Kayena, who had been waiting quietly in the study, timidly posed the question. Her words dragged the forgotten topic back to the forefront of his mind.
The woman’s rejection defied every possible scenario he had considered. At worst, he’d expected some hesitation—but the princess had outright refused without even a moment’s thought.
“Maid, what does the princess like?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m asking what’s needed to persuade the princess. Tell me things she might enjoy.”
Unable to withstand his persistent questioning, the maid eventually spilled everything.
Flowers and jewels, books and dresses, desserts and chirping birds. Perfumes with sweet scents and cozy, comforting candles that helped her sleep.
He brought all those things with him the next time they met.
At first, he grew alarmed to find the house empty, fearing the girl had fled. After waiting about two days, however, the princess finally reappeared.
Startled by the man’s sudden arrival, Natasha looked around anxiously. There was no knight accompanying him, nor even a horse. Even his sword was nowhere to be seen.
Only then did she seem to relax—until she noticed the pile of gifts stacked in front of her house, at which her brow furrowed sharply.
Natasha let out a quiet sigh and spoke.
“…I have no intention of marrying Your Grace. I am grateful you didn’t kill me—please just go.”
A blunt rejection that rendered all his efforts meaningless.
“Maid, tell me something else—not material things, but something else.”
Back at the ducal manor, Zieghart urged her impatiently, his voice laced with irritation.
“Her Highness dreamed… of love. A beautiful future shared with the one she loves.”
He would need another approach to win her over.
This time, the woman proposed love.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Zieghart couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh.
Love the Princess of Charlier?
The very thought made him want to retch—but if that was truly the only way, Zieghart resolved to accept it. If marriage to her meant his freedom, then his instincts be damned.
The next day, Zieghart returned once more to her home.
Natasha’s expression suggested she had no strength left to speak. He seized her outstretched hand—the very gesture she meant as rejection—as an opportunity and pulled it toward himself.
“Your hands are so cold. And covered in cuts and calluses.”
Cradling her pale hand, Zieghart softened his voice as delicately as his touch. Then, forcing her startled, stiff fingers upward, he pressed them gently to his lips.
“As I told you before, I can protect you, Princess. I wish for you to be safe and happy within the boundaries I’ve guarded.”
“…”
“So come with me, Princess.”
The hand trapped in his grasp trembled. Her eyes, clouded with confusion as if unable to read his intent, wavered in response.
“…Why… why are you doing this?”
“Well—why do you think I am?”
“…”
“What reason could possibly drive a man to so desperately desire a marriage offering him nothing, Princess?”
He decided it was time to settle this once and for all—to leave her no room to refuse again, and to make her reconsider marrying him.
“It’s what people commonly call selfish desire.”
“…”
“A man’s longing, perhaps.”
He whispered to her the very love she had once claimed to want.
“Love, you say…?”
Her voice crumbled like a leaf trembling in the wind, fading at the end into a weary sigh.
Had he succeeded?
Zieghart subtly studied her.
Just then, their eyes met—and Natasha noticeably paled, pulling her captured hand away. Her voice and gaze sharpened beyond their usual gentleness as she continued.
“The imperial house is my enemy. If you believed I’d rejoice over love from someone once so close to my very enemies, you gravely misjudged me. I don’t believe your affection is genuine—and even if it were, I could never accept it. Not ever.”
Only then did Zieghart finally grasp the problem.
Of course—how could she possibly believe in the love of a man she knew belonged to the imperial house?
“I fully understand your feelings and your caution. I know what my affection might mean to you. But the tragedy you suffered was solely the imperial house’s doing—it has nothing to do with House Aschardt.”
“…Are you saying you had no part in that day’s tragedy?”
“Yes. I swear to you—I had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
Rather than growing angry, Zieghart gently soothed her. With tender words, he began slowly gnawing at her flesh and heart.
“…”
“I know why you reject me. But House Aschardt severed all ties with them long ago. Should the imperial house ever threaten you again, I will protect you with everything I have.”
For a moment, her crimson eyes flickered.
Seeing her shaken by his words, his fading patience steadied once more. Even her guarded expression seemed on the verge of softening. He found himself oddly curious about such an absurd scene.
“Please believe in my sincerity.”
He subtly tightened his grip on her bound hand. In response, her free hand clenched and unclenched, as though lost in confusion, grasping for something it couldn’t find.
Zieghart resolved to capture that hand as well.
Reaching out, he took her other hand and pulled it into his own. One by one, he folded her fingers inward, trapping her like prey—then interlaced their hands firmly, as if determined never to let her go.
“It would grieve me deeply if my sincerity were condemned because of misunderstanding.”
From that day on, Zieghart visited her house as regularly as he did his own estate. If Natasha refused to open the door, he stood outside until she granted him a chance.
“…I’ve clearly said I don’t want this.”
Her resolve remained firm. Each time, she rejected his advances without mercy.
She even threatened to move away entirely if he kept coming—but knowing full well Zieghart would find her no matter where she went on the continent, she never actually acted on the threat.
Forced into spending half a year with him, she gradually came to regard his daily visits as the start of her day. Slowly, traces of him appeared throughout the village and inside her home.
The more effort Zieghart invested in their relationship—and the more time passed—the more Natasha seemed to open her heart.
“It’s quite cold today…”
Indeed, the woman who once seemed incapable of basic consideration now worried for him.
She quickly ushered Zieghart inside after he’d braved the snowstorm.
Though her words feigned calm, her body moved swiftly—boiling the kettle, fetching a dry towel, and bringing a thin blanket, all out of quiet concern.
As Zieghart gazed at the teacup set before him, he suddenly asked,
“Won’t you ask me today?”
“Ask what?”
“What I’ve brought for you. Lately, you’ve been the one to ask first.”
Instead of answering, Natasha glanced around. Zieghart always arrived carrying something substantial—even if not as large as his own frame, there was always some visible token of tribute.
But today, he truly seemed to have come empty-handed.
“It looks like you came alone this time.”
“How could I come to you without bringing you something?”
“Well…”
“I came through this snowstorm just to see you.”
His deliberate phrasing left her with mixed feelings. Hearing it that way made it sound as though he truly had braved the storm just for her.
“That’s… not entirely wrong.”
To ease her hesitation, Zieghart answered for her. His dry affirmation was followed by his usual gentle tone.
“Today, too, I missed you, Princess—just as deeply as ever.”
Rising from his seat, he knelt before her on one knee.
“That’s why I rushed through this snowstorm.”
His large hand settled over hers. She looked down, sensing something foreign resting atop her little finger.
Beneath her white glove, something protruded slightly.
“Come with me, Princess.”
He removed her glove and slipped the ring from her little finger. It cut through the air between them, finally settling onto her ring finger.
“…Your Grace?”
“Now you really must marry me.”
A ruby, identical to the eyes of both Natasha and Zieghart, glimmered brightly.
‘Really?’
His first proposal had been utterly absurd.
The second hadn’t been much different. His sudden confession of love had seemed entirely untrustworthy.
And then came six months of silence—only for his proposal to resurface just as she’d begun to forget.
‘Now… does Your Grace truly…?’
Natasha reflected on the past.
Their very first meeting—he’d made an outrageous proposal she never dreamed of accepting. She’d believed that after a day, a week, or a month, even that arrogant man would abandon his plan and leave her alone.
But contrary to her expectations, Zieghart came to see her every day. He never repeated his rejected proposal. Instead, he simply lingered by her side, as if merely being near her was enough.
That man who celebrated her happiness as his own. That man who helped her overcome her long sorrow. That man who appeared at just the right moments to save her like a hero whenever she needed help.
Unlike before, his feelings now seemed genuine—because everything he’d shown her over time was impossible to feign without true sincerity.
“Do you truly love me?”
Natasha found herself asking before she could stop herself—fully aware that once she heard his answer, there’d be no turning back, yet her instincts silenced her reason.
“Of course.”
“…”
“Enough to offer the imperial house itself as prey for your sake—passionately, utterly.”
In the end, she surrendered.
Just as Zieghart had intended.
Male lead says he’s pregnant — and it’s female lead’s child
Something seems a bit off about this world.
Wang Zhao thought as she watched a pregnant man walking towards her…
Intro
Female lead finds herself in a world where the men who possess the ability to bear children.
As she navigates this unfamiliar reality, she is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, who reveals that he is pregnant.
Is this truly her boyfriend?
Why can’t she recall any details about their time together?
She begins to doubt whether the child her boyfriend is carrying is even hers.
Is there a hidden reason behind her amnesia, or could it be a side effect of her sudden arrival in this strange new world?
Just when it seems the protagonist’s life couldn’t become any more entangled, her ex-boyfriend makes an unexpected appearance, raising questions about the protagonist’s past.
__________
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Chapter Comments (6)
Inline Comments (96)
"Yes, good morning. By the way, you don’t have to call me ‘princess’ anymore…”
I’m bad with angst but still really like revenge stuff what chapter is her current regression in?
“But still…”
This smells fishy 🤔🤔🤔 kayena is onto something 🤔
“How about we start living together once you’ve grown more accustomed to the man
I can smell the heartache from a mile. As of now he is a AH
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I don’t really care if she gets the kingdom back but does she at least get a safe town or something?
This man shouldn’t be an actor he can’t really hide his dislike for fl
Limited return by death? I guess nice story mechanism