Claire’s baby was a large boy.
Wifey’s child, on the other hand, was a bit small. He was what one would call a low-birth-weight infant. Thanks to nanomachines, however, such a condition wasn't a cause for concern.
Initially, I had assumed the small size was because Wifey had undergone larval fixation, but I began to feel like there was more to it than that. I sat down and considered what Claire and I had in common.
I was half-commoner. In fact, given the circumstances of how my family home had been elevated to the nobility, it wouldn't have been wrong to say I was essentially a commoner. My biological mother, who had disappeared and left me behind, had been a commoner herself. Claire, too, was an adoptee into a noble family and likely shared that commoner blood. Her pure Japanese features suggested she was probably the child of a noble’s daughter and a commoner, which was likely why she had been abandoned in the first place.
Then there was Melissa. Her mother was from the same hometown as Rikochi. While she claimed to be a commoner, Rikochi had told me that almost everyone in her hometown was a descendant of the nobility—specifically, illegitimate children who had moved to that planet back when the birth rate was still high. In other words, there was no way they didn't carry the blood of the Imperial Family.
The realization hit me. I let out a heavy, weary sigh.
I needed to consult someone about this. It wasn't about sharing my burden; I wanted to dump this problem onto someone else entirely. Fairy-san would obviously be involved, but I needed a medical authority as well.
"Fairy-san, book a conference room," I said. "I need an important talk with you and Kevin."
"Leo-kun... your voice sounds incredibly serious," Fairy-san noted.
"Yeah. I'm Wifey's groom, so I probably won't be killed for knowing this, but honestly, this is the kind of secret that puts your life in danger. I hope I’m just overthinking it. I’d be relieved if this were just my own wild delusion."
"You're genuinely scaring me now. Fine, I'll set it up with Kevin-kun. Let me check when both your and Kevin-chan's schedules are open..."
"Sorry, but call her immediately. Reschedule everything else."
"That serious?!"
"If even I noticed it, then others must have noticed too... and I’m betting a massive number of people have been disappeared to keep it quiet."
"...Are you for real?"
"Dead serious. I can't even tell Wifey until I'm certain."
"Whoa..."
Shortly after, I summoned Kevin to the conference room.
"...Leo, your face is terrifying," Kevin said, greeting me with a look of pure distaste.
I couldn't help it; my expression had unconsciously shifted into a hard-boiled, grim mask.
"Sorry, Kevin. I need you to form an emergency team with obstetricians and genetic specialists immediately."
"What’s happened? Explain yourself."
"The cause of the Galactic Empire’s low birth rate. It might be tied to the genes of the nobility... or more specifically, the Imperial Family."
That was the crux of it. People had this image that royalty had many children, but it was really just a "strength in numbers" approach. Even Wifey’s grandfather had seemingly laid hands on anyone he could reach. They had many children in total, but the pregnancy rate per wife was abysmally low.
Even Maro, who had spread his seed primarily among his blood-related sisters, didn't actually have that many biological children considering the size of his harem. There were many imperial successors, but the count was surprisingly low given how many women he’d slept with. He was a piece of trash who did nothing but eat, sleep, and procreate, yet his productivity was pitiful.
I already had eight children myself! Between my legal wives, I had two children, and one by my consort. Because House Kamishiro was so close to being commoners, I had been able to get Wifey pregnant. By the same logic, the reason Melissa was having such a hard time conceiving despite us doing our part was...
"...This is bad," Kevin whispered.
"Exactly. It's a secret between us girls, right?"
Kevin responded by silently chopping me on the top of my head.
"Tell Veronica-chan about this properly! You're her husband!"
"I didn't want to worry her!"
"It doesn't matter! I'll tell her myself! Veronica-chan!"
And that was how I ended up being scolded by Wifey while forced to sit in seiza on the floor.
"Lord Groom! Do not keep such vital matters from me!"
"But... once you know, it’s a top-secret affair that could get people killed."
"Do not hide it! This could be a plot by Zork... no, by the Zen Divine Race! It is the same as the Esper Hunting!"
"Ah, that’s a good angle!"
"Why must you be so unnecessarily considerate?!"
Kevin was fuming alongside her. How tragic for me.
Thus, even though we were still in the midst of the massive chaos surrounding the naming of the children, another heavy task had landed on our plates. I gathered everyone in the dining hall to make the announcement.
"I’ve discovered the cause of the Galactic Empire's infertility. It is a result of the Imperial Family's own genes. We are looking for volunteers to assist with the research."
I expected an uproar, but everyone fell silent. It seemed the realization resonated deeply with far too many of them. Women who were already married and struggling with infertility swarmed to Kevin’s side, and applications for examinations came pouring in.
Wifey also allocated a massive budget from the Galactic Empire for the cause. For some reason, everyone decided to cooperate with the investigation in silence. I conducted a thorough check of the Peerage Registry to see if the guys from the Officer Academy carried imperial blood. It turned out that Isono and that bastard Amada were in the clear.
"Wifey... how are you going to explain this to the citizens?"
Wifey declared with a look of sudden enlightenment.
"Is this not what Chronos is for? I believe a headline like 'New discovery in Chronos! Unforgivable sabotage by the Zen Divine Race!' will suffice."
"I knew you'd say that."
I responded with a dirty smile of my own. Having a clear enemy really does make politics so much easier.
"Now then, shall we go see the children?"
The babies were currently being looked after by Bavaa, the Auntie Squad, and the Wet Nurse Squad we had brought along. Claire's child was also being cared for so she could rest. Wifey, who was physically more fragile, would have had a miserable time without sleep, and even Claire found it exhausting. I was helping out as well, but having a professional team made everything significantly easier.
Ren’s children had a team from the Beast Race to look after them, but it seemed better for the mother to stay close. Ren carried them around in a basket. It might have looked a bit crude, but the kittens apparently got anxious if they couldn't smell their mother.
A few days later, the naming conference finally decided on a name for Claire’s child.
The process resulted in twenty shrine personnel, twenty monks, and twenty Chronos Religion priests being sent to the hospital with injuries. It was absolute chaos, with members of the same religion getting into fistfights with each other. In the end, it had apparently devolved into a massive free-for-all involving everyone in attendance.
They were still arguing over the name for Wifey's child.
For the time being, Claire’s son—the boy likely to become the future King of Chronos—was named Ark. Apparently, it meant "Light" or "Fixed Star." This was essentially an unofficial confirmation of his future role as the King of Chronos.
I’m sorry, my son... your father is powerless to stop them. The only thing I can think to do is find an opportunity to transition the country to a democracy later on.
Meanwhile, Ren's children were the subject of a massive conference involving politicians. The "Imperial Standard Language" faction and the "Chronos Language" faction were currently engaged in a grand brawl. One idiot was even arrested for bringing an iron pipe into the meeting.
You’re supposed to be men of the cloth, not delinquents!
I had them arrested without mercy to let them reflect on their actions. Surprisingly, my refusal to show favoritism even to my own religion caused my approval rating to soar.
It seemed to be business as usual: things were more of a crisis during peacetime than they ever were during the war.