Ignatius' words were deeply reassuring, warming Shen Xinghui's heart.
He felt like the luckiest spouse alive.
Yet, guilt and unease crept in.
Ignatius wasn't just anyone—he was the kingdom's prince and its only heir.
He had responsibilities, things he was supposed to inherit, and Shen Xinghui couldn't shake the feeling that letting Ignatius give all of that up for him was wrong.
The uneasiness gnawed at him, and soon his stomach began to tighten, almost as if the child inside him could sense his turmoil.
The sensation was a soft, persistent tug just below his navel.
It felt as if the baby was trying to tell him to calm down.
"It's fine. It's okay. There's nothing to worry about," Shen Xinghui repeated to himself over and over.
He told himself that even if he wasn't accepted, the baby would be.
Regardless of his own background, their child was still Ignatius' offspring.