Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!

Finally, the date of their marriage was set. Before the grand event could unfold, there were matters Claude had to resolve—chief among them was solidifying the alliance between the royal family and his fabricated noble lineage: the Lamborg House.

Negotiations with Lamborg were surprisingly easy. As merchants, they held little attachment to politics beyond its profit.

So long as the arrangement was beneficial—economically and politically—they had no reason to refuse.

Evan Lamborg, the head of the house, was a man of sharp instincts and quicker decisions. An opportunist, yes, but a practical one.

"The no-tax policy for our shipping routes and exclusive rights as primary distributors of the miracle medicine... More than generous," Evan said, bowing deeply.

"Lamborg is honored. Thank you for your benevolence, Your Majesty."

Emmalise offered a graceful nod. "You need not thank me, Sir Lamborg. Louis—" she glanced at Claude, "—will soon be my husband, and your requests place no undue burden on myself or the council."

"You are too generous," Evan said again with a grin, then turned to Claude and gave his shoulder a friendly pat.

"Take care of my son. He's a bit rough around the edges after all his years of travel. But from those travels, he's grown wise."

With that, he took his leave, and the council meeting was adjourned.

The wedding was set to take place in six months, once the small part of the snow began to melt—a symbolic gesture marking the arrival of spring in Cortinvar.

In the quiet that followed, Claude and Emmalise remained seated at the long table, the last two left in the chamber.

Emmalise exhaled with relief, sinking into the backrest of her chair. "I'm glad that went smoothly."

Claude chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head. "Your council is surprisingly peaceful. They're like tame dogs compared to the wild beasts in mine."

Her eyes narrowed, unimpressed. "That's only because you infect them with your foolish ideas."

Claude raised a brow in mock offense. "I don't know what you mean."

Rolling her eyes, Emmalise picked up the next report from her stack of parchment. But as she tried to focus, she felt Claude lean in, his presence close—too close.

"You're too close," she muttered, not looking at him.

"Oh?" he said with a grin. "That's not what you said the other night, when you were practically begging me to—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," she warned, cheeks flushing.

He only leaned closer, brushing his fingers against the back of her hand. "Now that the wedding is official, why follow the rules so strictly?" he whispered.

"You're the queen. You make the rules."

"I—" She stopped herself, looking away before her voice softened. "I want our first night to be special."

She stood abruptly, her posture stiff as she gathered the documents and avoided his eyes. "So don't touch me. Not even a little."

And with that, she marched out of the office, leaving Claude chuckling behind her, amusement glittering in his eyes.

Since Claude didn't have anything urgent to tend to, he decided to return to his palace for a while. Aubree was nearing her due date, though that didn't stop her from training magic with Lilac and Dalia. Despite the physical toll of her pregnancy, her spirit remained as lively as ever.

Upon arriving and asking a maid about her whereabouts, Claude was told Aubree was in her chamber. He made his way there, expecting to see her resting, but instead found her engaged in some sort of project.

She greeted him warmly as he entered.

"Ah? Claude! I didn't think you'd visit me today," Aubree said, a bit surprised but clearly happy. She gestured for him to sit down in her private study—an office-like room she'd requested be connected to her chamber.

Aubree loved reading, and this space was her sanctuary, filled with rare books and magical scrolls she'd collected from across the continent.

However, what surprised Claude more was the man already seated at the table—Aldrich—sipping tea like he owned the place.

Claude raised a brow.

"Oh, greetings, Your Majesty," Aldrich stood the moment he noticed him, offering a polite bow. "Has your business in Cortinvar concluded?"

"Yes, it has," Claude replied coolly. "But what exactly are you doing here?"

Aubree stepped in with a soft smile. "Well, both of us enjoy ancient artifacts and magical history. We've made a habit of chatting over tea about them."

"I also bring Lady Aubree to the artifact room now and then," Aldrich added with a proud nod.

Claude blinked. "I see... A rather unusual hobby for the both of you."

His eyes drifted to the table, where a sheathed dagger sat within a glass case. Curiosity got the better of him—he opened the case and picked it up.

"What's so fascinating about a dagger?" he asked as he turned it around casually in his hand.

Both Aubree and Aldrich stiffened with visible panic.

"Your Majesty! Please be careful!" Aldrich said quickly, standing up.

"That dagger is over a thousand years old!" Aubree added, her hand instinctively moving to her belly.

Claude glanced at it again, unimpressed. "Huh? This ugly thing?" he muttered before placing it back in the display.

Both of them sighed in relief as the artifact was returned safely to its place.

Aubree frowned at him. "Claude, honestly! Be more gentle with things!"

She rubbed her swollen stomach, voice softening, "How can I trust you to hold our child if you're that reckless with fragile objects?"

Claude smirked, "That's different. This is just a dagger. That's my child." He pointed at her belly.

Aubree rolled her eyes, while Aldrich let out a restrained chuckle. But suddenly, he stood up as if remembering something urgent.

"Ah! I must take my leave, Your Majesty. I completely forgot—I promised to visit my granddaughter today!"

Claude blinked. "You have a granddaughter?"

"Well, not by blood. It's Freya's daughter, Your Majesty," Aldrich clarified with a polite smile before excusing himself.

Freya's daughter—classified as a D-Class child—couldn't be considered a princess by title, but like all noble-born children, she would grow up in one of the palace's reserved estates, receiving a high-quality education and all the comforts she needed.

As Aldrich left, Claude leaned back against the chair, eyes following the old man's departure.

"I still don't get why you spend hours staring at scrolls and dusty tomes," he mused, lifting his cup to his lips. "You could spend that time watching me instead. Far more rewarding."

Aubree rolled her eyes. "What? So I can observe a man who calls ancient relics 'ugly' and shakes a thousand-year-old dagger like it's a kitchen knife?"

Claude gave her a playful smirk, "Relics, artefact are just a stupid things if it can't be used. It just a wall display."

"Let's agree to disagree," she said with annoyance, though the corners of her lips betrayed a smile.

Claude set his cup down and stood, crossing the short distance between them. His fingers gently lifted her chin.

"More importantly, I think your beautiful face is even more interesting than any relics," he whispered, his voice low and intimate.

Aubree's cheeks warmed "I can't believe you tried to flirt with me with that cheesy words."

"And you still love it." he grinned which makes Aubree laughed.

"I need to love you, you are the father of my child."

"Mm," he hummed. "And here I thought you were just using me to fund your private library."

"Maybe I am," she teased, eyes gleaming. "A rich daemon lord with a treasure trove of books? Every nerdy girl's fantasy."

Claude chuckled, tilting her face slightly. "Then let me give you something rarer than any book," he said before leaning down.

His lips brushed hers lightly. She melted into the kiss, hands resting gently against his chest as he deepened it, careful not to put pressure on her rounded belly.

His touch was delicate, reverent even, as if he was trying to memorize the taste of her in this quiet moment.

When they finally parted, her breath caught as she stared up at him, eyes slightly dazed.

"You always do that when I'm trying to stay mad at you," she mumbled, a little dazed.

"It's one of my best skills," he replied smugly, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before resting a hand against her stomach.

Their child stirred beneath his palm.

Claude smiled, a softer one this time. "Can't wait to meet you, little one. You're going to have the best mother in the world."

Aubree bit her lip, touched but embarrassed. "You say that now, but wait until the baby cries all night."

"They won't, this one is a smart one, so don't disturb your mother or the nanny that take care of you, alright?" he rubbed her belly.

She was happy with their short time. Claude rarely visit but when he did, he always make sure to make her blush and act like girl in love.

However something… shifted inside her.

A strange pressure and something wet down to her knee.

Aubree froze, eyes widening. "Claude…"

Claude looked down, noticing her stiff posture. "What's wrong?"

She looked at him with panic blooming behind her lashes. "My water just broke."

There was a brief moment of silence as her words sank in.

Claude blinked. "Now?!"

"Yes, now!" she hissed, grabbing onto his sleeve as another wave of pressure rippled through her lower abdomen. "I—It's too early! The doctor said I still had time!"