Chapter 14
With an amiable smile, Franz dismissed the attendant and their secret, depraved relationship began.
Her new stepson, trousers already lowered, seized her chin and forced her mouth open. Helpless, she took him between her lips and had to satisfy his desires.
“Mother’s mouth is pleasant, but it cannot match the grip of the lower hole.”
“Haah… hh…”
“Do you enjoy the meal I’ve prepared? It’s precious, so don’t spill a drop—swallow it cleanly.”
Afraid of being overheard, she choked back her disgust and swallowed his seed. Franz patted her cheek as if praising a trained animal, then sat down beside her. Pretending to pat her back, he slipped an arm around her and rubbed her n****e, whispering softly.
“Doesn’t it trouble you, Mother, to be unable to fill your hole because you’re with child?”
“Hnngh…!”
“I hope my little sibling is born soon. After all, it’s a son’s duty to fill the lewd, gaping hole of his widowed mother.”
A rough hand slipped beneath her loose skirts. Knowing resistance was useless, she lowered her dark lashes in resignation and the fingers that spread her thighs invaded her opening.
That time was tormenting, intoxicating and miserable.
She collapsed completely in the hands of the man who fathered the child in her womb.
Within that forbidden relationship, time passed without mercy.
The belly that had shown no sign of life gradually swelled, until at last the time of birth arrived.
On a night in the same season when she had first been taken by him at the Black Forest lake, Brunhilde woke up to the chill of the night air seeping in and realized the bed beneath her was soaked with fluid.
The midwife was summoned, and labor began.
As she felt the sinful seed she had carried for ten months finally leaving her body, she felt both relief and fear.
Amid the tearing pain below, she thought of release—of death.
You, the proof of my sin, that stirred within me. And yet… you are undeniably of Brandt’s blood.
How many hours passed in waves of agony, her body writhing and her voice breaking with each contraction? At some point, as her consciousness flickered, she felt something—like a faint voice echoing from deep within her womb.
Her eyes snapped open.
For a moment, she had the absurd sensation that she had met her child’s gaze from within.
Then, as if waiting for that instant, a violent surge of pain crashed over her, far worse than anything before. The agony consumed all thought.
Gathering the last of her strength, Brunhilde pushed.
Time stretched into eternity— Then, with a burst of blinding pain, the faint cry of a newborn rang out.
“It’s a boy, Madam!”
“Ha… ha…”
“He takes after you completely. Such dark hair.”
Is that color from me… or from that depraved father of his?
Even as her thoughts staggered under the weight of pain, the midwife cut the cord and placed the baby into her arms—still unwashed, still stained with blood.
Hesitant, trembling, she took the swaddled child.
The infant, his face smeared in places with blood, had hair as black as night—just as the midwife had said.
Seeing the sinful seed that had caused her such suffering now lying there, helpless and fragile, stirred complicated emotions within her.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she just crushed his breath right now?
Then, a flicker.
His clear, translucent eyelids opened as if by magic.
His round eyes, still clouded with white, held a deep violet hue—like a darkened blossom in shadow.
The same color she bore. The same her mother had borne.
Seeing that combination—black hair marking him as an outsider, violet eyes marking him as hers—brought tears welling up.
Her lips trembled as she pulled the child closer.
Though a newborn could not possibly see, she felt as if their gazes had met.
Ah… my child.
What fault could possibly be yours?
You had no choice in your womb or your seed—you were simply born into this.
She knew better than anyone that children of the great houses were born carrying sin within them.
And yet, she could not bring herself to cast away the newborn blinking those innocent violet eyes.
With trembling, tear-filled eyes, Brunhilde let out a soft sob and held him tightly against her chest.
Milk had already begun to flow, dampening her clothes, her b*****s awakened by Franz’s nightly attention. She bared her chest and brought the child to nurse.
As she did, a thought took shape.
From the moment the golden orb had fallen into the lake, her fate had already changed.
And so—
Perhaps it was possible… to save this child from the curse of his bloodline as well.
‘Yes… not every son of House Brandt has killed his father.’
There had been histories where patricide did not occur.
Even if the curse bound their hearts, it did not make resisting their desires entirely impossible.
‘And even if that’s not the case…’
A thought she would never have dared have before trailed through her mind like a shooting star. Perhaps freeing this cursed bloodline from its chains was itself part of the fate now granted to her.
She gazed quietly at the child, eyes closed as he suckled at her b****t.
Watching that peaceful, innocent face, she felt something take root deep within her—a maternal warmth she had never known she possessed.
The first gentle warmth she had felt since stepping into House Brandt.
Holding back her rising tears, Brunhilde cradled the small, fragile body with care.
Trying to shield him from the cruelty of the fate that awaited.
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