Chapter 182: I Hate The Royal Ball

"It's just the most logical thing to do," Mars said softly. "We already conquered 80% of this continent.  So, right now, we are the biggest power in Terra. I think it's about time that my family rests."

Emmelyn smiled broadly, then turned her body to him and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

"What do I get the kiss for?" the man chuckled after she let go of her lips from his. He added, "I'm not complaining. I just want to know what can I do to get more kisses in the future.. hehe."

Emmelyn laughed heartily when she heard him. "No... hahaha.. You don't need to do anything. Just be yourself. I love you."

Mars pulled her into his embrace and looked at her deeply. Emmelyn could see her face reflected on those golden irises as she was smiling sheepishly.

"Thank you," Mars whispered. "I love you too."

They kissed again before they lied down in bed holding hands. He no longer felt so tired like before.

Now that Emmelyn supported his plans, he would slowly find ways to talk to his father and make him understand that it was about time for Draec to focus on developing their kingdom internally.

Secretly, he started to think that his father's vision or dream was wrong. How could there be a great war in the future? Right now, no other kingdoms could match Draec's size and power in this whole continent. 

It's unlikely for Draec to have a confrontation with another empire from across the ocean. Mars hadn't heard any news about Summeria planning to go into war in the past ten years.

In fact, from the merchants that came to Draec for business and spies that his father sent to Atlantea to observe the situation, Summeria seemed to be on the decline. 

After the king got old, they hadn't done any more conquests and there were even talks about power struggle since the only male heir to the throne was rumored to be disabled.

He had seven older sisters who all wanted the throne for their husbands or sons. The Summerian royal family would be too busy handling their internal conflict for a while.

Mars thought Summeria wouldn't be a threat until the foreseeable future. So, rather than worrying about an enemy that might never come, it would be better if he focused his attention and resources on growing his own kingdom.

Draec should flourish and be the best place for his children to grow up. He didn't want to imagine they were raised amidst war. It would be bad for their upbringing.

***

The royal ball to welcome spring finally arrived. Emmelyn's mood was really bad all day. She didn't like any of the dresses prepared by her maid.

Even though Mrs. Coultard had sent three new dresses that could hide her bulging tummy, she hated the color or the design and in the end, she could only cry in the corner and refused to wear anything.

"Your Highness, Her Highness refused to wear anything. She hates all the dresses we prepared," said an older maid with a worried expression, when Mars entered the chamber to check on Emmlyn.

"Oh.. what's wrong?" Mars glanced at the pile of clothes on the sofa and then to Emmelyn who was crying despondently on the corner of the chamber.

He realized she became very sensitive lately. Mr. Vitas had warned him that some women could have terrible mood swings during their pregnancy. Apparently, Emmelyn was part of those women.

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She complained about every little discomfort that she experienced, and she cried sometimes for no reason. Sometimes, Mars missed the old Emmelyn who was so easygoing and fun.

He wondered if the change in her attitude was solely caused by her pregnancy hormones, or if this would be permanent. If the change would be permanent, could he bear with it his whole life?

Uff... he wished he could ask Athos about his wife's condition when she was pregnant. Lily had given birth three times and today she looked as kind and fun as she was before. 

"Her Highness said she hates the colors or the design," said the old maid with a low voice. "There is nothing we could do. She refused to wear anything."

"Okay, you can go out. Let me coax Her Highness," Mars motioned the maid to leave the room. They all bowed down and took their leave.

The man closed the door behind them and walked toward Emmelyn. His face looked concerned.

"Honey... is anything the matter?" He crouched down and touched her knees. Emmelyn was sitting down on the floor dejectedly.

Looking at her pitiful condition made Mars' heart ached. He now felt guilty for even worrying if Emmelyn's change in attitude because of her pregnancy hormones would become permanent.

It must have been harder on Emmelyn for feeling bad about many little things. Which woman liked being grumpy and feeling discomfort all the time?

Entering the fourth month, Her tummy had started bulging and she often complained about cramps and losing appetite, the opposite of the first trimester where she would eat voraciously and was always hungry.

"I hate the royal ball..." Finally, she cried despondently, as her tears were streaming down hard.

"Why? Do you not want to go?" Mars asked worriedly. "We can just stay home. I will send someone to the royal palace and tell my parents that we have to take a rain check."

"NO... WE MUST GO!" Emmelyn gripped his arms hard and pursed her lips. "No excuse. We have to go."

"But, why? If you hate it so much, we should just not go. I think my mother will understand."

Emmelyn shook her head. "I hate it but I have to go."

"No, you don't have to go. I will tell my mother that you are unwell."

"I don't hate it, but...." Emmelyn cupped her face with both hands. "I can't find any dress that won't make me look like a fat cow."

"What?" Mars batted his eyes in confusion.

Fat cow?

Emmelyn was far from fat. He didn't know how she could think that way about herself.

"I'm so fat... and all the other ladies that come to the ball will look like goddesses... They will all laugh at me when they see me enter. They will think I am a fat cow." Emmelyn spoke in a stutter between her sobs. "A fat cow... who... is walking with their crown prince... sobs..."

  Finally, the prince understood what was going on.

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