I Had the Enemy's Baby (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 8
“I wouldn’t possibly give something like that as a gift.”
A swift denial immediately slipped out.
At that moment, his eyes met Clodel’s.
Her expression, usually as still and doll-like as if carved from porcelain, now bore a faint, hopeful plea—begging him silently to do something, to help her. But that look now dimmed with disappointment.
Seeing that, he felt a pang of regret—but his word was law within this castle.
If Kai An declared something right, it was right; if he declared it wrong, it was wrong.
If he called blue red, the courtiers would nod and say, “Ah, red indeed!” If he called white black, the servants within the castle would agree, “Ah, black it is!”
The lord’s authority was absolute, so with so many watching, he could not possibly take back what he’d just said—
especially not over something as trivial as whether or not he’d given her a mere button ornament!
“Just as I thought. Typical behavior from the Vermondes.”
“So much for the rumors that House Vermonde had gold leaf lining the halls of Valmont Castle.”
“Hah! Fancy liking such a worthless thing. Must’ve never laid eyes on real jewels in her whole life.”
Mocking laughter poured down upon Clodel and her maid.
Kai An barked an order.
“Enough. Stop making a racket and all of you, leave.”
Even as the corridor emptied, the jeers from the two women from Valmont Castle didn’t cease. When someone downstairs suddenly shouted, “Thief!” a burst of raucous laughter echoed from afar.
Afterward, Kai An felt awkward.
Clodel had tightly shut her mouth and lowered her head, while the maid—bruised and battered by many hands—had collapsed onto the floor.
He had never once done anything for someone else or reached out a hand to help.
That wasn’t what was expected of a clan head.
Kai An only needed to be as solid as a shield and as strong and sharp as a sword.
Could anyone even imagine a shield or a sword ever offering a comforting hand?
Since his words were always right, he’d never once uttered an apology.
Yet now, for the first time in his life, a strange sensation spread through his chest—
a faint, unfamiliar twinge of guilt.
But Kai An didn’t truly recognize or understand it.
That was simply how he’d been raised.
Instead, he blamed Clodel for this uncomfortable, awkward feeling—blamed her for asking for something so trivial and then boasting about it.
“Don’t cause a scene.”
At Kai An’s words, Clodel flinched and hunched her shoulders.
“It means you should live as quietly as a dead mouse. There’s no one in Rowen Castle who’ll take your side.”
After spitting out these harsh words, he turned away, relieved that the matter was now suitably settled.
‘Why ask for such a worthless thing in the first place?’
Kai An strode off with long, decisive steps.
[This is the timeline separator]“What? How can someone like that even exist?”
As Hanna applied ointment to the bruises and dried blood, she couldn’t suppress her anger.
“Wow. Absolute scum. Worst person I’ve seen since coming to this castle!”
“Enough, Hanna.”
“Enough? How can you say that? We haven’t even started yet!”
Hanna snapped back when Clodel quietly tried to calm her.
“He torments people with deliberate intelligence. I fell for it once—but never again! I swear, I won’t let him get away with this.”
“He’s not that kind of person. It’s just a misunderstanding…”
“Madam, how can you defend him after being treated like this?”
Clodel fell silent, watching as Hanna let out an exasperated shout.
Noticing Clodel’s gaze falling on the ambiguous object—whether to call it a ring or a button ornament—on her finger, Hanna’s eyes widened furiously.
“Give it here! I’ll take it to the kitchen and use it as kindling!”
“Don’t.”
Hanna tried to snatch it away from Clodel, who lately had grown thin and weak, but quickly eased her grip—fearing she might accidentally twist her young mistress’s finger.
“I can’t even stand to look at it. Seriously.”
“I’m sorry, Hanna.”
“Not you, Madam—*that thing*.”
Clodel hesitated, then covered her left hand with her right, hiding it from view.
“For a moment just now, I almost hated you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Ugh! Just take that thing off and throw it out the window. Didn’t you see what that duke just did? And you still keep it?”
Clodel covered her mouth with her hand and coughed softly.
“Cough… cough, cough.”
Though Clodel felt sorry for Hanna, she knew she couldn’t make her understand everything she was feeling.
She’d learned she had Herzol about two months ago.
Valmont Castle lay far north even within the northern reaches of the Oberon Kingdom—a frozen wasteland where half the year was spent under ice.
In that cold land, there existed a coughing sickness called Herzol—a disease that killed its victims after a hundred days of relentless coughing until they spat blood.
What made it even more terrifying was its high contagion; if one person caught it, eight out of ten villagers would die.
But someone had discovered a way to survive it.
They found that if a person contracted a mild case of Herzol and recovered, they became immune.
Because infants almost always died if infected—ten out of ten—centuries ago, a Duke Vermonde had established a small village specifically to control the disease.
Before a child in the villages near Valmont Castle reached their first birthday, they would be taken there to receive the “Baptism of Ice.”
By rubbing a towel previously used by a mildly afflicted patient near the child’s nose, the child would contract a light case of Herzol and recover.
Before the Baptism of Ice existed, entire villages would be wiped out by Herzol before it finally ran its course.
To encourage participation, the duke offered an extraordinary incentive: any family that brought their child for the baptism would be exempt from one full year of taxes on their lands. Thus, every newborn was brought there, and gradually, deaths from the disease disappeared.
Clodel had contracted Herzol precisely because her father, Evan, was the younger brother of Duke Vermonde.
Her father had been banished by the Duke to the southernmost edge of the duchy—the farthest possible distance from Valmont Castle.
She later learned that even stepping slightly beyond Flonu Village would trigger surveillance, and her father’s every move was reported directly back to the Duke.
Though she was of Vermonde blood more than anyone, that very fact meant she never received the Baptism of Ice—
unlike even Hanna, who had been born in Flonu, a remote mountain village far from Valmont.
Herzol was a disease warm southern folk never caught.
When the cunning Duke Vermonde learned Clodel had contracted the coughing illness that only afflicted those born and raised in the frozen north, he devised a scheme.
“There is no cure for Herzol,” he said. “It never heals on its own. Since you’ll die anyway, wouldn’t it be better if your suffering helped the people of the domain?”
Convinced by his reasoning, Clodel had nodded in agreement.
The nobles and retainers who came and went from the castle kept their distance from her anyway.
The villagers, who always greeted her warmly with smiles and waves during her domain duties, felt far closer to the friendly neighbors she remembered from Flonu.
If those children were starving, and she was going to die anyway…
If enduring some humiliation for just a month or two would help…
In a life where she’d accomplished nothing of note, at least this much seemed something even she could do.
Beneath her right hand, pressed tightly over the ornament, she felt its warmth—her fingers had grown hot clutching it so hard.
It wasn’t as if Clodel didn’t know the thing was worthless when she’d asked for it.
She’d asked for it precisely *because* it was worthless.
Anything of real value assigned to her would, in little over a month, become meaningless funeral belongings to be burned after her death.
So perhaps… just maybe… a small trinket like this could accompany her even into the afterlife?
Absurd as it sounded, that was the thought that crossed her mind.
“Cough…”
Her cough only worsened the more she tried to suppress it, so Clodel gritted her teeth and held it in.
“I won’t take it from you. Just rest easy.”
Hanna finally released Clodel’s tightly clenched hands and gently massaged them.
“By the way, your cold isn’t improving at all. Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to bring a doctor here, no matter what.”
“Thank you, Hanna.”
If Hanna ever learned Clodel had Herzol, she might very well punch Duke Vermonde herself. Clodel truly believed Hanna was capable of that.
At Valmont Castle, it was well known that anyone who acted rudely toward Clodel faced Hanna’s fists as punishment.
It was fortunate, then, that no one at Rowen Castle would help Hanna find a doctor.
[This is the timeline separator]
It was the final day of the wedding celebration.
It was also the day the new lady of the manor was to present herself before the people.
But rumors had already spread throughout House Temnes and the Rowen domain that Clodel was “a wilted flower, trampled and drenched by the rain.”
On the first night of the banquet—attended by all the Temnes blood relatives—many had witnessed her staggering into the hall, disheveled and soaked by the rain, and then gossiped about it widely upon returning home.
Some had even wondered if she might look different if properly dressed up—but today, Clodel was absent from the banquet.
“What? She’s refusing to attend?”
“Yes, Your Grace. She says she’s unwell and cannot leave her room.”
Kai An’s brow furrowed.
First she caused a commotion over something trivial, now this—was she deliberately trying to disgrace him?
“Tell her she’ll never be summoned to another banquet again.”
“Your Highness… such words—”
The butler began to protest but fell silent.
“I’ll take my leave.”
This loyal butler, who had served since the time of the late duke, had grown increasingly nagging ever since King Oberon had decreed the marriage by royal command.
“No matter how forced this marriage may be, neglecting your wife will damage your reputation, Your Highness.”
The butler himself was of Temnes blood. What set him apart from other Temnes was that while most harbored greater resentment toward House Vermonde, this peculiar butler prioritized the dignity of the Temnes household head above all else.
Although Kai An had ignored the butler’s advice earlier, hadn’t he still ended up preparing a wedding-night gift, just as the butler had urged?
He knew the butler must have heard about today’s commotion in the castle, yet until now, the butler hadn’t said a word about it to him. Now, Kai An suddenly became curious about what the butler had started to say—“such words—” —but his thoughts inevitably drifted toward Clodel, so he deliberately pushed them away.
She must be disappointed in me.
But it also seemed rather foolish—had she honestly expected help from the head of the household that was her sworn enemy, after having met him face-to-face for barely two days?
Disappointment meant she’d had expectations in the first place.
And now that he’d failed her, useless self-reproach kept rising within him.
It was fine to treat House Vermonde that way.
That was how he’d always lived.
In fact, Kai An had intended to exterminate that entire household—and if his plan proceeded as intended, Clodel’s head would likely fall beneath his own sword next month.
If only the King of Oberon hadn’t forced this marriage upon them.
Yet now, he felt as if he’d wronged Clodel in a way he never would have wronged anyone else—and that made facing her deeply uncomfortable.
That night, Kai An paced restlessly outside Clodel’s bedroom door.
Perhaps because of the day’s incident, or because she’d claimed to be ill, the corridor was dark, empty, and silent.
‘If she’s sick, that maid of hers is surely staying with her.’
Remembering how Hanna had glared at him as though ready to kill him, Kai An couldn’t bring himself to enter the room. Instead, he stood in the hallway, staring fixedly at Clodel’s door.
But at that very moment, Hanna—whom Kai An assumed was tending to Clodel—was glaring fiercely at another door.
It was Kai An’s own bedroom door.
“Just come out. I won’t let you off easy.”
Soon, as dawn approached, the door creaked open and someone stepped out—causing Hanna’s eyes to widen as she clenched her fists.
Male lead Asks for a Divorce Every Day
It’s not often you come across a plot like this in the female-dominant genre — make sure to check it out!
This is a novel I’m planning to reread as well.
The male lead is strong, skilled in martial arts, and not the usual fragile type you often see in matriarchal novels.
Meanwhile, the female lead is a scientist—rational and logical. Even when she falls for the male lead, she doesn’t let her emotions cloud her decisions.
If you push through the first few chapters, you’ll gradually find the story really intriguing.
It has a mix of mystery, detective elements, and romance.
The author’s writing style is like crafting a puzzle—except they deliberately leave out a few pieces, making it hard to predict what happens next, yet keeping you hooked.
In the end, everything will come together and be explained.
One-sentence summary: Wife, stop playing with beakers and look at me!
In a laboratory accident, research scientist Zhu Wansheng accidentally travels to a matriarchal world. The original owner of the body is an eighteen-year-old only daughter of a wealthy rouge merchant, already married with a handsome young man.
Zhu Wansheng grins: Nice! She always said she was heaven’s favorite granddaughter. After a life of toil in her previous life, she can enjoy blessings in this one.
However, her joy lasts no more than three seconds as bad news arrives: the original owner’s family is about to go bankrupt, and her husband wants a divorce.
Even worse, she’s stuck with a research system full of restrictions.
Zhu Wansheng: ? Is this the destiny of a research dog?
——
Faced with this mess, Zhu Wansheng pours herself a bowl of wine to drown her sorrows. In her drunken haze, her husband arrives.
His figure is imposing, holding a long sword, with a dignified air that captivates Zhu Wansheng.
Gu Yingqing, however, looks at the alcohol-reeking Zhu Wansheng with undisguised disgust and coldly asks, “Divorce or not?” The intoxicated Zhu Wansheng mumbles vaguely, “I think… it’s not… it’s not… impossible!”
——
The next day, after sobering up, Zhu Wansheng is full of energy, rolling up her sleeves ready to make a big move. As for yesterday? She has no memory of it.
Zhu Wansheng is ambitious; a research dog fears nothing!
Upgrading rouge, extracting fragrances, producing perfumes, researching lipsticks… all shall bow to the power of modern technology!
The original owner’s dying rouge shop is revitalized. Her mother is pleased and with a wave of her hand, passes on the family business to her. As she takes control and her experimental results gain popularity, it’s the pinnacle of her life…
——
But there are always those who can’t stand to see her doing well. Jealousy, scheming, assassination attempts – they want nothing less than her life.
The person who has always kept his distance from her suddenly holds her tightly in his arms, eyes full of concern.
She is unharmed, but he falls into a pool of blood…
Zhu Wansheng feels guilty, “I can grant you one wish.”
Gu Yingqing tentatively circles his arms around her, carefully resting his head in the crook of her neck, pleading softly, “I regret it. Can we not divorce?”
Zhu Wansheng: ? When did I agree to a divorce?
[Small Theater]
The newly developed rouge is beautifully packaged, and Zhu Wansheng is eager to try it.
Gu Yingqing suddenly appears: “My lady, may I apply it for you?”
Cool fingertips lightly brush her lips. His Adam’s apple bobs as he leans in for a light bite.
Zhu Wansheng: ?
Gu Yingqing: It smells so good, I wanted to taste it…
On a warm spring day, Zhu Wansheng tries a new perfume: “Spring Night.” Gu Yingqing corners her against a wall.
Warm breath lingers on her neck.
“My lady, from now on, may I test the fragrances for you?”
[Humorous female scientist vs scheming live-in son-in-law male lead]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
Chapter Comments (1)
Inline Comments (103)
…liked me?
Delusional much? >.< He is professing Typical male-lead behavior
“Then tonight—don’t sleep. Wait for me.”
Dude are you fucking serious, just because it doesn’t hurt doesn’t mean you won’t worsen it
“Hey! Don’t you dare move!”
Is she going to get the ring back for clodel. I love hanna
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Every time I see the FL, I feel like crying! Also, I laughed so hard when I learned about the emperor’s feelings for the ML; I expected their relationship to be brotherly. It’s funny how he hates him.