Portrait of Queen Berta: I accidentally got pregnant with His Majesty's child

"Sire!"

In a room where we demanded early payment and were alone, Berta reinforced the tone of things all the more.

She still continues to show anger towards Harold.

At the same time, I was terribly exhausted in emotional terms.

Being able to cause problems and rub them from yourself consumes a tremendous amount of effort. In a place that would fit round if Berta kept her mouth shut, let alone make her feel emotional.

"How could you be like that on that occasion? Please explain."

But there was nothing else than to do so.

I had to show openly that what happened on that occasion was unintentional to her. It's a fundamental question of Berta's courtesy as queen.

"Berta, this is the dialogue. I wouldn't have had to say anything on that occasion."

Harold is also Harold, and he just doesn't hide his uncomfortable look when his eyes are gone all night.

But his perception is wrong. What happened on that occasion was a legitimate reminder of whether Berta would in future undermine trust from around us.

"As a response to the merchants and the surrounding nobles, I was only instructed to avoid making explicit statements"

"That's fine. So until today, you've been able to keep your surroundings safe."

"No, no, Your Majesty"

But Berta's sense around it and Harold's claim naturally eat differently. Even now, for Berta, the sanctity continued.

"If you were accompanied by Amusement Mountain as the Queen of Nothingness, as the Queen of Practical Motivation, you wouldn't have known."

In his response to the merchants and nobles, Berta dressed it overshadowed by a key superior, even though he had an attitude that assumed that the proposal had not been consolidated. Not to mention the way he could take it that Berta was also accepting.

"I was not informed of anything, I merely duly claimed the disadvantage that went around in hindsight on that occasion. It was His Majesty's own fault that made me behave like that."

"It may be true, but I was going to discuss it with you later"

"So I'm saying it was too late."

Harold's public treatment of the "queen" has always seemed to me varied. Berta may have had a problem with that, but it's not exactly something I can look at this time.

He is too unfamiliar with using "women" as pawns in politics. Berta and he seemed too far apart in age and experience to hang with it from scratch and rub the values together.

It is very unlikely that Berta will be able to repaint the values and ways of engaging with his wife, who accompanied him for more than a decade now.

With those humbling thoughts, I felt like I wanted to cry out of place if I realized my weakness like I had ever unconsciously avoided looking directly.

"If I had informed you in advance, you might have moved from Kasha's point of view"

From those few words, Berta guessed that he was a convict.

He may already have trouble dating an angry Berta and having a discussion. Harold cluttered up his hair with one hand, as he was fed up.

"... Your Majesty didn't take me lightly, you got out"

In front of Berta, I feel like this is the first time I've seen him show offense in his attitude as well.

Berta, on the other hand, kind of always felt angry in front of him. How can you only say this when you can't possibly like yourself like that? I didn't want to be such a cute woman.

"Oh and after speaking publicly in front of everyone, did you think you could shut me up? If you can deceive me later,"

"It wouldn't be something you could tell a southern woman!

With his voice up, Harold packed a few steps' walk to Berta with his big crotch.

I even regret that my shoulders trembled reflexively. But she withstood and did not move a single step on the spot.

"I'm not talking about where you came from, I'm talking about where your heart is.... how long I'm willing to keep defending my position as Kasha's woman. Do you think you can tell the Queen the story of the heart of national policy, considering only the convenience of being born?

He's him, too, and he's been poking at Berta's bitter spot.

"... nothing like you're just thinking about convenience to your home. I'm saying this because I'm working as a member of the royal family and trying to keep the queen decent."

"Looking at your attitude, it doesn't look that way."

I also remember some rebellion in the rounding up that is not even nibbling.

"At least I didn't see it this time, as a southern human being,"

Even Berta thinks. I keep thinking.

"Sometimes it doesn't fold quickly. Indeed, as queen, I became a royal person. With that in mind, I'm unlikely to be able to imitate abandoning my hometown, betraying everything I've ever done."

Even if I understand that my current attitude is not entirely correct, I don't know what to do. Nobody tells me the right answer.

"... I didn't even tell you to throw everything away"

"So with what, do you recognize me as queen? Where can I put myself?"

It was Berta's, merely true, but it was immediately attacked by regret from beside what I said. My voice, which reached my ear, was too sentimental for this occasion or for my position at all.

"No......, this wasn't like asking"

He also stopped looking at Berta when he saw Harold's face causing his gaze to come and go busily indoors, as he looked for a place to go for the emotions that stood.

"I am aware that I am not the right woman for a queen."

"I wonder. If you're going to assume a queen like your mother, at least you're better suited than Marguerite."

It was the first time since the coup d 'état that the Lady's name appeared in a conversation with him.

(Yeah, but that's what His Majesty thinks)

Think about it. Neither did he, on the occasion of the meeting of when, in such a way as to deny from his head the words of Queen Wang, "Give power to the Queen".

Harold must also be worried about trying to understand what kind of queen to put Berta on.

Exploring each other and still being wrong, inconveniences like this can happen tonight.

"Still, there are plenty of people who do this role better than me. You don't have to act like tonight."

Harold, listening to Berta, looked disgusted by the rejection.

I'm sure he doesn't like the fact that Berta broke it first.

"I apologize for putting my own mess on the shelf and ruining the place"

Perhaps Harold seemed to have a bad time getting ahead of him while he was thinking about how to end the fight. He simply lacked the experience of the woman in the fight cooling down before he did.

"... bad. You try to reward me for my status as queen. [M] I didn't blame you for that."

"Your Majesty's anger is most appropriate."

Berta earlier took Harold's position in an outrageous manner, so he was more prepared to suffer his frustration later on.

"Yell, I'm sorry"

"... no"

I was tired of discussing both things that I couldn't pull off in the essential part, and I was even on my way.

Whatever it is, I want to end this story once and for all.

in a room quiet as I hit the water. Everyone seems tired already tonight.

Will the servants on both sides, who would refrain from going around the neighborhood, stroke their hearts that the contention has subsided? Or would you be rubbing your mind even more?

After an irresistible silence, Harold shook his neck to pay for the heavy air surrounding the field.

"Okay. Berta."

Let's get this story over with.

That's what he said, grabbing Berta's arm and holding it close. Berta tried to snort, too, but couldn't.

As it was, his legs turned to the bedroom as he was drawn to the strong arm of the infinity.

I remember these strong attitudes of Harold on these nights, and Berta stands like a stick and makes him walk half a step through his heavier leg.

(This guy doesn't want to listen to me anymore...)

I think so, but even Berta doesn't want to talk about it anymore.

It was each other who wanted to make it aye-free, and Harold's worst suggestion seemed to be the only name for her now as well.

In a far cry from normal motion from him, the rampantly opened bedroom door makes a noise and closes with a baton. I'm sure the servant will know the next morning to open it.

"Berta"

Berta looked up at him frightened as he was pushed into his bedroom with a sudden trick.

I felt a slight laugh in my eyes, but the face seemed angry or unnameable emotional.

"I'm just..."

Harold tried to say something, but ended up not taking the word for it. I'm not sure about Berta. A man's face, like dominated by momentary emotions, who doesn't suspect it's the right attitude to do so.

(Not bad, so)

Reach out for the nappies and do your arms on a wide back unlike yourself.

It's better to keep it flowing like this rather than overlapping words and buying unhappiness.

Beginning tomorrow, we must also behave with an unfamiliar face as king and queen. The dates of the inspections are a big deal, and even when we return from the inspections, he and Berta both have faces as public figures.

I don't know what he's going to do, but on the other hand, Berta's mood for accepting it is pretty selfish, too.

(... Now if you'll forgive me and end it)

Forgive me? What?

Is Berta the only one to blame after all? Is that how he punishes Berta?

"... I just want you"

I wonder what more a man who can get as much as he wants.

Will this be the correct answer after all? I don't even think I have a problem with this sort of thing.

What am I supposed to do?

"His Majesty's,... like Natsaru"

However, there is no particular point in Berta's reply.

He probably doesn't really know how scared it is to make him reject it now in this situation.

That night Berta shut her mouth as if it were a means of at least resistance left to her.

"Eh..."

While rubbing his forehead against his bedding and hiding his face, the ugly emotions in his chest seemed to overflow in a terrible way and he couldn't even say something.

I don't know anything about rushing. Berta must not be convinced of this kind of imitation.

Still, I figured even if I put a strain on myself, I wouldn't mind if he was convinced.

(Whatever.... if you don't give up on me)

He hated me any more and I was only afraid that he would stop looking at this one anymore.

You don't even know where your thoughts are, but I want thoughts from him. What a selfish, disgusting woman you've become.

Berta is always frightened somewhere in her mind, whether she gets bored or seems troublesome. The southern woman, the leftover self, is it to him that it will always be untrustworthy?

I wish I could have told you I was going to.

It wasn't a very happy night.