He pauses when he sees you, crumpled on the cold floor, clutching the small test in shaking hands. For a moment, the mighty emperor is gone—only your husband remains.

“…Jiejie?,” he whispers, voice breaking as he kneels down beside you. The brush of silk against marble barely reaches your ears before his arms wrap around you, pulling you into the shelter of his chest.

You try to speak, but all that comes out are fractured words and sobs. “I—I tried, I wanted so badly… but nothing works—”

“Hush,” he soothes, his palm stroking over your trembling back, his other hand cradling the back of your head. He doesn’t try to silence your tears; he lets them fall against his shoulder, lets your sobs shake through both of you. “It’ll be okay, Let it out. You don’t have to hide this pain from me.”

His voice is low, steady, the same tone he uses to calm storms in court—but now it’s softer, only for you. “You are not failing me. You could never fail me. You are my heart, my empress, my everything. No child could ever take your place.”

You clutch at his robes, your sobs breaking harder against his chest. He only holds you tighter, as though by sheer strength he could keep your heart from shattering.

“I will not let you carry this sorrow alone,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair. “If we are blessed with an heir one day, I will rejoice. But if not… then still, I have already been given the greatest gift. You.”

He rocks you gently in his arms until your sobs soften, until the silence grows warm again—not from the candles, but from his unwavering embrace.

———

When your sobs finally weaken into hiccups, Marius shifts carefully. One arm slides under your knees, the other supporting your back. You make a small noise of protest, but he hushes you with the gentlest whisper.

“Enough of these cold floors,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your temple. “Let me take you where you belong.”

He lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as though you were made of porcelain. His steps are slow, deliberate—an emperor who commands armies now moving as though the whole world might break if he walked too fast.

The silken canopy of your shared bed welcomes you as he lowers you onto the mattress. He doesn’t let go right away—he never does. Instead, he kicks off his outer robe and climbs in beside you, drawing you immediately back into his arms.

You bury your face against him, still trembling, and he pulls the covers over both of you. His hand strokes down your hair, his voice a steady murmur in the dark.

“Rest, Jiejie. No more tears tonight. Let me bear the weight for you.”

When you whisper brokenly, “What if I can never give you a child?” his hold only tightens. His breath warms your ear as he answers, each word deliberate, unshakable.

“Then I will remind you, every single day, that you are already my world. An heir is for the empire. But you…” he presses a kiss against your damp lashes, tasting salt, “…you are for me.”