Chapter 1

It was the third time my baby ended up as a basin of bloody water.

Prince Edward held my hand and said, "For the sake of the woman I love, endure this a little longer."

I smiled and agreed. Then I ground up herbs that would leave a man sterile, and slipped them into his food.

He praised me for finally learning my place.

Later, the court physicians stood before him, heads bowed, and told him he would never father another child. He tore the palace apart in his rage. And I just stood there, watching him break.

*****

A crash echoed through the hall.

It was his favorite vase, the one with that gorgeous sky-blue glaze, shattered to bits by his own hands.

"Useless. All of you are useless," Edward Sinclair bellowed, his voice nearly shaking the roof of the main hall.

His eyes were wild and red, like a beast cornered in a cage. The noble prince was gone, replaced by pure rage.

The royal physicians crowded the floor, standing on the icy golden tiles, trembling as autumn leaves in a storm.

The air was heavy with the scent of expensive ambergris and the thick, metallic tang of blood, leaking from his smashed, bleeding hands.

I stood quietly in the shadows of the corridor, silently watching it all unfold.

I should have stepped forward.

As his wife, I was supposed to rush over, put on my gentle, fragile demeanor, try to soothe him, beg for mercy for those pitiful physicians, and then, when he shoved me away, I should put on a show of grace and hurt feelings.

I'd been putting on this act for three years, over and over again.

But at that moment, I was done pretending.

Honestly, to me, watching this unfold was a treat.

I liked to see the way he lost it and the way his handsome face twisted in despair. Honestly, it was better than any drama I'd ever watched.

"Your Royal Highness..." Rose, my personal maid, whispered, her voice trembling as she tugged at my sleeve. Her eyes were filled with terror.

I snapped back to myself. Yeah, it was time for me to play my part.

I took a deep breath, choking back the laughter that threatened to burst out, and put on just the right expression of panic and sorrow.

With a graceful stumble, I rushed into the hall.

"Prince Edward," I cried out.

I didn't rush to comfort him. Instead, I let my legs buckle just three steps away and dropped to the floor.

A single tear slid down my cheek, perfectly timed, silent, but it said more than a thousand words ever could.

This broken, pitiful look was exactly what he used to despise.

At that moment, his eyes, red with fury, finally turned to me.

Through all his rage, I could see the irritation and blame flicker in his eyes.

"Why are you crying? I'm not dead yet," Edward snapped at me, his voice dripping with impatience. He didn't even try to hide how annoyed he was.

Wasn't that just great?

Even lashing out at me came so naturally to him.

I swallowed the dark satisfaction rising inside me, my voice trembling as it might shatter at any moment.

"Prince Edward... It's my fault. I wasn't good enough... I couldn't give you what you wanted..." I stammered, my words trailing off.

Before I could finish, I bowed my head, shoulders shaking with "grief," perfectly embodying the devastated, guilt-ridden wife.

He waved his hand impatiently, as if I were just an annoying fly buzzing around him.

But he didn't lose his temper with me again.

My "grief" and my act of sharing his pain gave him a twisted sense of comfort in his madness, and for a moment, he stopped suspecting me.

I'd pulled it off. Instead of a possible suspect, I was just the poor, helpless victim.

The butler of Sinclair Manor led a squad of guards, leaving no stone unturned as they searched every inch of the estate.

"Prince Edward, we've searched the entire manor, top to bottom. We didn't find anything suspicious, and all the food and utensils came up clean," the butler stammered, his voice shaking.

Edward's face went stormy again.

He kicked over the chair beside him and roared, "Impossible. I've always been in perfect health. How could this happen to me, just like that?"

Even the word "infertile" was like a knife. He couldn't even bring himself to say it.

It was my chance.

Leaning on Rose's arm, I struggled to my feet, my voice weak and casual, almost as if I barely meant to say anything.

"Prince Edward, could it be someone out there jealous of you? Maybe they did something to you behind your back?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

My words struck Edward like a bolt of lightning, slicing straight through the confusion in his mind.

The realization hit him all at once.

Just because nothing was found inside the manor didn't mean the threat wasn't from outside.

As the emperor's favorite brother, he wielded real power and had no shortage of enemies at court.

Those people couldn't beat him openly, so it made perfect sense for them to resort to underhanded tricks behind his back.

Given his naturally suspicious mind, and blinded by despair, my words struck right at his weakest spot.

"Investigate!" Edward snapped, his voice cutting through the hall like a whip.

The wild frenzy in his eyes faded, replaced by a chilling, scheming glint.

"Leave no stone unturned. Especially keep an eye on Prince William and Prince Henry. Don't let a single clue slip by," he commanded, his tone icy and ruthless.

With just a few words, I steered a storm that should have swept through Sinclair Manor straight into the power struggles at court.

He ordered a thorough investigation into his political enemies, and the turmoil within Sinclair Manor was temporarily stilled.

Late at night, silence filled the air.

I sat alone in my vast chamber, moonlight spilling through the lattice windows, painting me in broken patches of light and shadow.

I reached out, gently brushing my hand over my stomach, still flat as ever.

Once, this place had carried three little lives.

The first time, I was just two months pregnant. Vivian complained that the scent of flowers in my courtyard made her dizzy.

Edward ordered all my beloved magnolias, covering the whole garden, to be chopped down overnight. The shock and grief sent me into a miscarriage, blood pooling across the floor.

The second time, I was three months pregnant. Vivian said she wanted the fresh tribute oranges from the south, but there was only one batch, and it had already been delivered to my rooms.

I couldn't bear giving them up. They were precious to me. Edward came with his face cold and had his servants snatch them right out of my hands. In chaos, as I tried to hold on, I was shoved and fell to the ground.

Just a few days ago, it happened for the third time.

I was almost four months along.

The royal physician said the baby was developing well, a boy, already taking shape.

I really thought this time, I could finally protect him.

But all Vivian had to do was let out a few delicate coughs in front of Edward, then claim she'd had a nightmare, something about blood and bad omens, afraid she'd brought misfortune upon herself.

The very next day, a steaming bowl of bitter abortion brew was placed right in front of me.

It was delivered by Edward's most trusted matron.

She said, "Your Royal Highness, Prince Edward said Ms. Reed is delicate, so she can't take any fright. This child has no place in Sinclair Manor. Please bear it for the sake of the manor."

I stared at that bowl of pitch-black medicine, no tears, no protest, not a single sound.

I even found myself smiling.

I looked at the matron and said, "Alright, I understand. Could you please help me up?"

Then, in front of everyone, I drank that bowl of medicine, sip by sip, without flinching.

That taste was so bitter.

It was so bitter that it felt like it was scorching right through my insides.

As pain twisted through my belly, Edward arrived.

He took my hand, his brow furrowed, but there was no comfort in his words for me.

He said, "Charlotte, Vivian's just too timid. I know this is unfair to you. Don't worry. I'll make it up to you someday."

I looked at him, the man I'd loved for five long years.

It was from marrying him at fifteen to twenty.

My youth, my love, and my three unborn children, all lost, all destroyed by his casual, heartless words: "I know this is unfair to you."

I forced a smile and nodded, hiding every trace of pain.

"Prince Edward, you flatter me. Helping you and Ms. Reed is just what a wife should do," I replied softly.

At that moment, I caught a flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

He praised me, "Now you finally know your place."

Yeah, I finally became the "good wife" he always wanted.

I was so obedient, in fact, that I personally mixed a colorless, tasteless infertility herb into his soup every single day.

I found the recipe in a one-of-a-kind medical text I stumbled upon.

The herb worked slowly and gently, but once it took effect, not even the gods could undo it.

I wanted my revenge to be the sweetest, softest way to deliver the most lethal payback.

Under the moonlight, I gently placed my hand on my still-flat stomach and whispered, "Don't be scared, my children.

"Mom's already gotten revenge for you, at least for the first time."