Phoebe’s POV
I’d been feeling off these past few days. Morning dizziness, nausea that ca in waves—but what really gave it away was my missing period. Late. Very late.
After Perry left without a backward glance, too afraid he’d turn around and rush back to , Justin poked his head through the bedroom door.
"Ready, my queen?" His voice carried urgency, but I was scribbling sothing in my notebook.
I need to see Marcela first.
"The order says you leave imdiately."
I don’t feel well. I need Marcela to check .
Worry creased his features. "The king doesn’t know about this?" Concern sharpened his voice—if Perry knew, he would’ve summoned Marcela himself.
I shook my head quickly. Don’t tell him. Today’s crucial for him. I won’t burden his mind—it’ll destroy his focus when he needs it most for battle.
Justin read my note, conflicted. "Stay here. I’ll bring Marcela to you."
Better than dragging to the infirmary and delaying everything further. He mindlinked a warrior, and soon Marcela arrived.
Once Justin left us alone—after informing the others my departure would be delayed for a while—the room fell silent except for my racing heartbeat.
"How is it?" The words felt tight in my throat, anxiety crushing my chest. Every possibility flickered through my mind, but deep down, I already knew.
I could feel it.
"You’re pregnant, Phoebe." Marcela’s breathless confirmation hung in the air.
Her expression was complicated—she used my na when we were alone, the only real female friend I had here. The only one I’d learned to trust again after everything I’d endured.
Are you certain? Really?
I knew it. I could feel it.
My hand found my still-flat belly, warmth flooding my heart. Another tiny life growing inside . A life Perry and I created together. Mine. A child I’d love completely, who would love back. I’d dread of this mont for so long.
This baby was mine.
Even learning about it just now, happiness swelled inside until I thought I might burst.
But Marcela didn’t share my joy. She understood the stakes.
She’d told pregnancy was still possible despite the difficulties, but the real danger lay in childbirth. In her dical opinion, my body couldn’t survive it. If sothing happened to ...
Marcela wouldn’t even let herself imagine Perry’s reaction. He didn’t just love —he carried crushing guilt over what happened to and our first baby.
I saw a flicker of profound fear in her eyes, as if she were imagining the worst possible outco for herself.
The public favored Perry now because he showed compassion—only with , but still. Samuel and Justin were living proof of how he doted on , agreeing not to punish them because I begged him not to.
The old Perry would’ve killed them both.
"My queen... please reconsider..." Marcela’s careful words broke my heart. She saw my happiness, knew I deserved this more than anyone after everything I’d suffered.
But she also knew the truth.
"Phoebe... this is dangerous."
My smile faded as I read her expression. I knew what worried her.
I’ve been taking your tonics religiously, right? It’ll be fine, won’t it?
Marcela couldn’t answer with certainty. I had been drinking every bitter concoction she made, even the awful one that temporarily restored my taste buds—so bitter I could actually taste it despite my condition.
"Yes, you have, but..." She wanted to make a reasonable request but ca up empty.
Her mind went blank.
I grabbed her hand tightly, pleading with my eyes, begging her to help .
"Phoebe... this is too risky. Why not wait another year?"
I released her hand to write furiously. You’ll say the sa thing next year, and the year after, and the year after that.
Marcela pressed her lips together—I was right. She’d never agree to this. Neither would Perry. If he could, he’d eliminate the baby himself.
"Phoebe, please. Think about this again."
I shook my head. I wouldn’t consider it. The thought of losing another baby was unbearable.
I want this, Marcela. Please help .
Call selfish, but I truly wanted this child. I’d endure any suffering for my baby.
Marcela couldn’t give the answer I desperately needed to hear. "Think about the king. What happens to him if you’re gone?"
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