Chapter 65

At Lino’s question, Grondil’s eyes widened slightly before returning to normal. A distinct look of amusement danced in his eyes as he looked down at Lino’s stomach, now bearing the warm stone. It was a beautifully sculpted abdomen, possessing just the right amount of firm muscle that made it pleasing to both look at and touch. Lying flat on his back, his stomach dipped in slightly, making it look absolutely impossible that a whole litter of children could ever fit inside.

Grondil immediately grasped the root of Lino’s panic. Raised entirely according to human standards—from his lifestyle and knowledge to culture and etiquette—Lino clearly needed a comprehensive, ground-up education on the Beasts of Isberg.

Did the study have any useful books on the subject? Mentally preparing to thoroughly ransack the study he hadn’t visited in days, Grondil soothingly patted Lino’s chest. The frantic, terrified hammering of Lino’s heart fluttered against his palm.

“It is not ‘how many babies’, but ‘how many pups’. They will not be born massive like human infants. They will be born as tiny, young beasts.”

“…Beasts?”

The image of tiny, squirming, newborn puppies flashed through Lino’s mind. Thank God, he thought, flooded with profound relief. He had been terrified, considering there was only one possible exit route for the baby to take. He knew cesarean sections existed, but if they came out the size of puppies…

So utterly consumed by the sheer logistics of the size, Lino completely glossed over the reality that he would be giving birth to actual beasts instead of human children.

“So do not worry, and just rest.”

From the hallway, the sound of suitcases being dragged back into the rooms echoed faintly. We were finally going to Isberg, Lino thought, his expression turning gloomy.

“Are you unable to return to Isberg because of me…?”

“It is not because of you, but because of you and my cubs. There is no need to feel sorry.”

“Ah…”

You and my cubs.

Children conceived between Lino Cliff and Castillion Luz Grondil La Isberg.

Lino forgot to breathe for a moment, frantically trying to calm his violently swelling chest. Those simple words from Grondil’s lips—you and my cubs—instantly obliterated every ounce of anxiety he harbored about pregnancy, childbirth, and surviving in a foreign land he had only ever admired from afar.

“Since we’re staying a bit longer, let’s go on all those dates we were too busy for.”

“D-Dates?”

“Yes. It would be a good time to learn the Isberg language as well. You are fluent in the ancient tongue, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. Our culture is vastly different from the society you grew up in, so I will teach you everything in detail.”

Wow, really? Wow.

Unable to form coherent sentences, Lino reacted with the pure, breathless awe of an excited child. The dates were one thing, but the reality that the absolute ruler of Isberg was personally going to tutor him felt entirely surreal.

“Your Highness, thank you so much.”

“There is no need for thanks between us.”

Wow. He said ‘between us’. Between us. As Lino mumbled the words under his breath, Grondil’s shoulders shook as he fought back a laugh. Lino’s eyes were already half-closed, heavily influenced by the soothing effects of the warm stone resting on his stomach. Mumbling like a child just now had been the result of his sleep-drenched brain voicing his internal thoughts out loud.

“If anything, I am the one who should be thanking you,” Grondil murmured to himself.

“…?”

Catching the quiet remark, Lino tried to blink his drooping eyes open before letting out a small ‘Ah’ of realization. It was the reaction of someone who had suddenly remembered something crucial.

Forcing his eyes open when he was clearly on the verge of passing out caused his faint double eyelids to deepen dramatically. Thoroughly enjoying this never-before-seen expression on Lino’s face, Grondil asked, “What is it? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Um… about erasing memories.”

“?”

Grondil frowned at the completely unexpected topic. He pondered what could have possibly prompted his soft little honey-chick to bring this up now. For someone who loved sleep as much as Lino did to fight it off just to say this, it had to be incredibly important to him.

“If it’s related to Isberg… does absolutely everything… get erased?”

“…?”

“Because—”

Grondil was about to ask why he was worrying about that, but snapped his mouth shut the moment he saw the moist, wavering vulnerability in Lino’s green eyes.

“What just happened… felt really good. But, um… since you said everything related to Isberg gets erased…”

His words began to slur heavily from sheer exhaustion. Yet, refusing to surrender to the crushing wave of sleep, Lino furrowed his brow fiercely and bit his lip to force the rest of the sentence out.

“Your Highness is from Isberg too… so all my memories of just now will be erased too, right…?”

“…”

“I don’t want that…”

I want to remember. I don’t want to forget. Mumbling his sleepy confession, Lino was ultimately unable to push back his heavy eyelids and drifted off to sleep. Scowling deeply, Grondil stood frozen, staring silently down at the sleeping boy for a long time.

Slowly, he reached out and covered Lino’s mouth with his hand. From beneath his palm, Lino let out a soft, short hum of contentment. Large, round furry ears flicked rapidly atop Grondil’s head.

“Lino… Can I believe what I think you meant?”

The words, torn from a tightly constricted throat, slipped through Grondil’s fingers. Haa… A scorching breath washed over Lino’s sleeping face.

Grondil had to actively regulate his ragged breathing. If he didn’t, he would have shaken the sleeping boy awake and demanded, ‘Did you mean what I think you meant?’ Forcing his emotions back under control, he carefully stroked Lino’s forehead and hair. The sensation of his fur tangling with Lino’s fine hair was profoundly gratifying. He felt as though they had become one, even without splitting the boy’s body open and burying a piece of himself inside.

He loved driving Lino to the edge, making him cry, utterly ruining him until he passed out from pleasure—but watching those creased brows smooth out into peaceful serenity under his touch filled him with a deep, unparalleled satiety.

“I’m going to erase your memories?” The mere thought of Lino forgetting everything they had shared made the blood in Grondil’s veins run violently cold. If he erased the portion of Lino’s timeline connected to Isberg, it was glaringly obvious where the cut would start.

The day we first met in the drawing room. Everything would be wiped clean, starting from the day he had barely given Lino a passing glance. The memory of Grondil claiming his virginity, the memory of passing out from the knotting, the memories of bathing, eating, and falling asleep together—all of it, gone.

He’s going to carry my child and forget who I am? The hand stroking Lino’s hair stopped dead. What about the child in his belly? If he forgets me, who will he think the father is? Grondil shook his head. Lino wouldn’t even know he was pregnant. He would forget he was a Letia altogether.

A Beast’s gestation period was roughly four months—an incredibly short timeframe compared to a human. His physical changes would manifest rapidly. He would inevitably visit a hospital, and if other humans discovered a male was pregnant…

“Unacceptable. That can absolutely never happen.”

Just imagining it was sickening. Even if it was for a medical examination, Grondil absolutely refused to tolerate other hands touching Lino.

It was the same earlier. In terms of efficiency, it would have made perfect sense to order Erin—who had gone to the Imperial border to hand Yuneria over to the Emperor—to return directly to Isberg and fetch the chefs and supplies Lino needed.

But he had purposefully dispatched Enoch instead because Erin was a healer. Belatedly, Grondil realized the true subconscious motive behind his earlier orders.

Rising carefully from the bed, Grondil pulled the blanket snugly up to Lino’s chin, stretching his long, thick arms to loosen his muscles.

Foreigners visiting Isberg were required to have their memories erased upon departure. It was the law, and there were no exceptions, not even for distinguished guests of Grondil, the absolute ruler of Isberg.

That was why he had mentioned the memory wipe to Lino in the first place. Now, he deeply regretted it. Had he known he would cherish Lino this fiercely, he would have kept his mouth shut.

Haa. 

Letting out a short sigh, Grondil’s body began to shift. The vibrant, dark ash-gray fur covering his body faded away, and his massive frame shrank. Instantly reverting from a Beast to a human, he grabbed a dark robe draped over a nearby chair and pulled it on.

This is so inconvenient. 

In Isberg, there was no reason to shift into a human, so there was never any need to walk around naked.

Still, once he returned to Isberg with Lino, he expected to spend quite a lot of time in his human form. To properly savor Lino’s smooth, soft skin, skin-on-skin contact was infinitely superior to being covered in fur. The same went for biting and sucking.

“Good lord, everything feels so inconvenient now.”

It’s just a… No, he wasn’t ‘just a’ anything. Pressing his long fingers firmly against his lips, Grondil exited the bedroom. From now on, the word ‘just’ was strictly banned when it came to his soft little honey-chick.

“Have you finished?”

Enoch was waiting for him in the drawing room.

“Where is Erin?”

“She is on her way back after handing Sir Disson over to the Emperor.”

“Does she know the situation here?”

“Yes. I have briefed her fully. We will depart for Isberg as soon as Erin returns.”

“There is one more thing you need to handle before then.”

“Do you require something else?”

“I need to create a new noble title for Lino.”

“You want to… create a title? Not bestow an existing one?” Enoch’s eyes widened as if he had just heard a ghost story. It was an action so entirely uncharacteristic of his Lord.

“He is going to bear my children. I cannot simply grant him entry as a run-of-the-mill distinguished guest.”

“You are absolutely correct. But as for a new title… do you have something specific in mind?”

“There’s no need to overthink it. I will simply declare him my Letia.”

Hearing Grondil’s explanation, Enoch let out a soft exclamation of awe. His eyes gleaming, he pulled out his phone. Remembering to fetch chefs and maternity clothes was easy enough, but officially declaring the Grand King’s Letia required meticulous groundwork.

“If you suddenly declare Sir Disson is the Letia, perhaps only one in a hundred people will believe it.”

“Hmm, is it really that unbelievable?”

“And that one person would likely be someone as insane as Erin.”

“Fair enough. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if it wasn’t Lino.”

I really am incredibly lucky, Grondil thought, his lips curving into a soft, genuine smile as he pictured Lino sleeping peacefully in the other room.

“But the absolute proof that Lino is the Letia will be Lino himself, won’t it?”

“Ah…!”

I was too short-sighted. Enoch stroked his chin and nodded eagerly. Male pregnancy—the ultimate symbol of a Letia. In just a month, Lino’s stomach would undeniably begin to swell. There would be other verifications, of course, but Enoch was suddenly very confident that the validation process would be flawlessly smooth.

“We will reside here until he reaches the stable period, then return to Isberg.”

“I will ensure every preparation is complete before Your Highness’s return.”

“I am counting on you.”

And just like that, while he was sound asleep, Lino’s citizenship was effortlessly transferred from the Hestin Kingdom to the Grand Principality of Isberg.

***