By the time it was two weeks, as always, he would send a doctor to her.

Of course, you can't tell if you're pregnant in only two weeks.

It was only then to find out the consequences of the affair done a month before. However, when Medea had suffered an injury from falling off the second-floor balcony, the doctor declared her not pregnant earlier than usual.

'If it was no use sleeping before that... ...we might have another relationship in two weeks.'

It would be difficult to believe that Medea wasn't impregnated after yesterday's and this morning's multiple, vigorous activities.

'But the result won't be known until about a month later... ... Anyway, wouldn't it be right for us to join once more after two weeks?'

Lyle's expression became bizarre when he realized what he was inadvertently thinking, wanting, and expecting. Suddenly an image of Medea's shy lewdness from this morning overtook his vision.

'Ahh! Your Majesty, Aah hnngh... No! Don't touch there......'

"Sire? You stopped walking. The ministers have already been waiting for five hours," said Sid, who walked along with Lyle and made a brief report.

Lyle woke up and stroked his blushing cheek...

"Oh my god! What are you thinking about? ...You wouldn't have been thinking of her Majesty the Empress, would you... ...?"

Sid's eyes grew like a lamp when unwittingly, Lyle's face continued to redden.

"Oh! Really?"

"No."

"No, your Majesty's face is red now! For the first time since I have been serving Your Majesty. You're not saying that you have a cold, the morning after— right?"

Sid hurriedly shut his mouth when Lyle's face curdled and fiercely glared at him. Sid bowed his head, pretending to sow up his mouth.

"... I'll be careful."

"Let's go."

Sid quickly followed Lyle's back as he strode forward.

And then he whispered the passing words hoping to make him feel better:

"What are you so worried about? Your Majesty is the Emperor, and her Majesty is the Empress. Is she not the one who runs with joy whenever your Majesty calls?"

Come running with joy? Medea? Lyle frowned as he recalled Medea, who climbed and jumped off the walls of the imperial palace last night to escape him.

He doesn't know if that was the case before, but now Medea can't do that.

Sid took a glance at Lyle's pondering gaze and said one more thing:

"Even if that's not the case... ... . Your Majesty can always ask the Empress to sleep with you. Both of you are young... ... . The excuse is perfect because the two of you have no children yet."

Lyle was speechless; Sid had somehow spoke to his unspoken troubling concerns.

When he turned to look at Sid, Sid quickly avoided his eyes and looked down with an anxious face.

'....But he didn't say anything wrong.'

As Sid said, he was the Emperor.

Currently, the imperial couple had no children... ... . It was also an essential duty of the Emperor and Empress, to produce heirs— Because they were royal, but... ... How are you going to meet Medea's face after everything that happened this morning...?

Lyle felt even more ashamed when he recalled embracing Medea without any self-consciousness or pride– and desiring her as much as he liked— Why was he doing something he had never done before?

Wasn't he the person that deeply frowned when Medea's voice entered his ears?

'This is nothing more than lust. You've done it before. Just ignore it, and it will disappear. There's no way I want to see Medea. Remember what she has done to you!'

Lyle shook his head, struggling to ignore the painful seizuring heartbeat that had arisen; he was never going to seek out Medea. And he was definitely not going to revisit her tonight.

The Emperor's Inconsistency

'Why is the Emperor here?'

Medea, who had entered the living room like a newborn baby deer, freaked out.

She was so worn out and tired that she was planning on eating lunch in the bedroom, but she came out to the living room when the maids stared at me with knowing gazes. She wanted to die from shame.

'I heard that you've been involved with Lyle every joining day, but what's up with these burning stares? Weren't you, the former Medea, embraced like this?'

The maids were rejoicing, 'Our beautiful Empress has finally begun to be favored by His Majesty!'

However, the present Medea had no way of knowing this. Instead, what mattered to her was her overworked, cramping waist, back, and thighs.

Her thighs couldn't seem to close, and her abdomen ached from having to deal with Lyle's ridiculously enthusiastic riding.

Medea felt better after taking the medicines delivered to her by the maids and meeting a massage therapist

Fortunately, her important place was intact without lacerations or swelling, so she could fully appreciate and experience the terrifying power of a romance novel.

'At the end of the story, it did have the atmosphere like a r-19 novel, with scene, scene, scene, scene, scene, scene, scene, scene ('scene' is slang for smut scenes).... it went on for a while.'

She had enjoyed reading it.

At the time, she had relished in the embarrassing situations unfolding as Seira and Lyle tangled together... but Seira could withstand it because she had the stamina of a knight. Her? She's going to die.

'But it felt good. Lyle was really good— Admit it!'

As she entered the living room, Lyle suddenly appeared in a chair. Medea screamed and jumped—completely unempress-like.

"What the—?"

Medea yelled at Lyle, who was stunned.

"Why is your Majesty here?!"