Chapter 3
Charlotte froze.
"You're the last one left from the Sinclair family," Edward said, his voice cold and emotionless. "King Harold showed mercy and let you live. But remember, from this day forward, you're no longer the Sinclair family's daughter. You're my wife now.
"The only reason you're alive is to pay for your family's crimes."
Charlotte wanted to laugh, but the sound stuck in her throat. 'To pay for my family's crimes? What did my father ever do wrong? What did my family do wrong?'
"Let's proceed with the ceremony," Edward said, turning his back on her, refusing to meet her eyes.
The wedding music started up again.
But this time, it was Edward's soldiers playing. They didn't know the first thing about wedding music, so the tune was a mess, sounding more like a funeral dirge than anything joyful.
Charlotte was held down. Fresh blood still stained the ground beneath her feet.
She could still see Lucy's lifeless body.
After saying their vows, Edward stood opposite Charlotte, his expression cold and impenetrable, like a stone.
They shoved her into the bedroom, forcing her to step over the bodies scattered across the floor, into a room decorated with bright wedding symbols.
In the main hall behind her, soldiers were hauling away the corpses. Anthony, Lucy, Mary, the butler... One by one, they were dragged out and thrown onto a cart.
The wedding candles burned, their wax dripping onto the holder, looking like tears.
Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed, perfectly still.
The door opened.
Edward walked in, carrying two glasses of wine.
He walked over to Charlotte and handed her one of the glasses. "Drink it."
Charlotte looked up at him.
In the candlelight, half his face was illuminated, the other half swallowed by shadow. He still looked as handsome as ever, but to Charlotte, he felt utterly alien.
More precisely, he disgusted her.
"General Preston," Charlotte said, taking the glass and swirling the wine, watching the red liquid spin. "You slaughtered my whole family, walked right over my mother's body to marry me, and now you want me to share this wine with you?"
Edward said nothing.
Charlotte laughed. She raised the glass and drank it all in one gulp. The wine burned like fire in her throat.
She tossed the empty cup to the floor, stood up, and walked over to Edward. Rising on her tiptoes, she leaned in close and whispered in his ear.
Her voice as light as smoke, her breath brushing against his ear. "Guess whose baby I'm carrying, General."
Edward's body instantly went rigid. He lowered his gaze to Charlotte's belly.
Beneath the gold-threaded wedding gown, her stomach was barely rounded. The curve was so subtle, almost invisible unless one looked closely.
"You..." Edward was stunned.
When Charlotte saw his face shift dramatically, she flashed a sweet smile.
"Didn't you say I should live to pay for my family's crimes?" she said, stepping back and gently placing her hands over her belly, her posture graceful, like the very image of a devoted wife. "Fine. I'll live. And I'll make sure I live well.
"I'll watch you step into your demise."
Edward's eyes were glued to her belly, his face ashen.
After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "Whose is it?"
Charlotte smiled, but she didn't answer.
She turned and walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge. She lifted her hand and removed the heavy bridal crown, setting it down beside her.
"Edward," Charlotte said, looking up at him, candlelight flickering in her eyes like twin sparks. "It's our big day, after all. Tonight is worth its weight in gold. Won't you join me?"
Edward stood motionless, frozen in place.
He stared at her. She had just lost her entire family, yet she smiled so radiantly, as if tragedy meant nothing to her.
After a long pause, he turned, opened the door, and left without a single glance back.
The moment the door closed behind him, Charlotte's smile slowly disappeared.
She looked down at her belly, where a tiny life was quietly taking shape.
This was her only leverage, her one and only hope.
"Father, Mother," she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath. "Forgive me for not being a good daughter. I have to stay alive, to make things right for you, to make them pay for what they've done."
She lifted her hand and gently caressed her belly.
"And you," she whispered, "be strong for me, little one. Mommy's going to take you to do something important."
The candle flames flickered.
Outside the bedroom, muffled sobs could be heard. The last of the Sinclair family's servants were forced out of the manor.
Charlotte closed her eyes. A tear slid down her cheek, but she brushed it away almost instantly.