Rejected by my husband, but loved by my fiancé

The sound of a healthy baby’s cries echoed throughout the room. All the effort she’d put in, groaning in pain for nearly half a day, had been worth it. The baby she received from the elderly midwife had a bright red face. “He doesn’t look like either of us.” “That’s not true. Soon enough, your parents and your husband will be arguing over who the baby takes after around the eyes and mouth.” The old woman laughed, saying, “That’s just how babies are,” and wiped the soiled infant with practiced hands. Once she had wiped away the blood and amniotic fluid, the baby’s pale skin turned bright red as it cried. Even though its face looked like some kind of animal, it was utterly adorable. “Thank you for coming into this world.” “Thank you for making me a mother. I’m grateful you chose me.” A smile came naturally to my lips, and I kissed the infant, who blinked its amber eyes. I kissed its soft forehead and, as the old woman instructed, offered it my breast. Though it had just been born and couldn’t even clench its fingers properly, it sucked noisily, making little “chuu-chuu” sounds. “It’s instinct. Babies always love their mothers, you know.” The elderly woman, who had witnessed the births of many noble sons and daughters, smiled gently. He was so light it worried me, but according to the midwife, he was actually on the larger side. I was reassured when she told me that even if he’d been born smaller, he’d still grow up strong. As the heir to this house, I must raise him to be a fine young man. 　My life is perfect. A kind husband, in-laws who cherish me, marrying into a marquis’s family and giving birth to the long-awaited heir… everything was radiant. This very moment brought a sense of satisfaction as if I had reached the pinnacle of the world. The exhaustion and excruciating pain of childbirth vanished as I smiled at the precious cry of my child. “He’s here!” My husband burst in, rushing over and slipping past the elderly woman who was tidying up. I sat down on the chair beside the bed and peered down at my child, who looked content as he nursed. His sparse, fragile hair was golden, just like my husband Bernardo’s. The eyes of the drowsy infant were amber. The same color as mine. 　As I tried to pick up our son, who had been born with the same eye color as both of us, the old woman cautioned me. She corrected the way I was holding the infant, and I took him in my arms tentatively. “Since he is a precious young master, hold him like this.” Bernardo’s expression stiffened at the old woman’s words as she instructed me on how to hold the baby. “Young master… is he a boy?” “Yes. He is the heir.” In an aristocratic family, a son is the first priority. Since he is to be the heir, the eldest son is the most important. Next comes the second son, in case something happens, followed by daughters for political marriages. Since I had given birth to a healthy boy on my first try, I thought he would surely praise me. But to my surprise, he uttered these unexpected words. “What on earth is this? Unless it’s a girl, we cannot maintain our ties with the royal family.” “Huh?” For a moment, I couldn’t comprehend what he had said. As if shoving the baby onto my frozen body, he handed me my son and hurriedly left the room. Something about a contingency plan… or needing an adopted daughter… His words reached me as sound, but they made no sense to me. 　“It has to be a girl?” Does that mean the heir I gave birth to doesn’t matter at all? The shock was too much, and I lost my composure. To ensure the safety of the child I held, I screamed even as the midwife took him from me… until my throat was hoarse and I was coughing. I don’t even remember what I was screaming about; I simply lost consciousness.