Chapter 3
The opportunity came quickly.
It happened during Edward's birthday party.
Sinclair Manor was adorned with festive decorations and overflowing with guests. Even the Queen Mother sent gifts from the palace, bestowing great honor upon Edward in front of all.
At the party, glasses clinked and laughter echoed, while music and dance filled the hall with joy.
Edward sat at the head of the table, a rare smile flickering on his face, but the shadow hanging over his brow never truly lifted.
I knew he was still weighed down by the problem of not having an heir.
As his official Duchess, I sat beside him.
Vivian, meanwhile, used "not feeling well" as an excuse to sit at a place of honor a bit farther away, where everyone seemed to fawn over her like she was the star of the show.
I quietly sipped my tea, watching the sham grandeur unfold before me, my heart cold and detached.
After a few rounds of drinks, the music and dancing were in full swing.
Suddenly, Vivian, sitting at her table, furrowed her brows, covered her mouth with a handkerchief, and let out a faint retching noise.
Her movement was subtle, but in a room where everyone was focused on the head table, it was impossible not to notice her.
In an instant, the room fell silent.
Everyone glanced her way, some openly, others just sneaking a look.
Her personal maid exclaimed, her voice so loud it echoed through the entire party hall.
The maid said, "Congratulations, Your Royal Highness. Congratulations! Ms. Reed is expecting."
It was like a bomb had just gone off in the hall.
The whole place went dead silent.
All at once, every gaze shifted from Vivian straight to Edward at the head of the table.
I saw Edward's expression flicker through shock, suspicion, and disbelief, before finally twisting into a nearly crazed, ecstatic joy.
He shot to his feet so abruptly that he knocked over his wine cup.
He locked his eyes on Vivian, lips trembling, unable to utter a single word for a long moment.
Vivian rose to her feet at last, her cheeks tinged with bashful blush, and nodded softly at him.
Vivian's voice was so soft and sweet, it sounded like she could wring water from it. "Your Royal Highness..."
That single word was so tender, it was almost liquid, gentle enough to make anyone's heart flutter.
Edward said, "I have an heir."
Edward finally snapped out of his shock. He threw his head back and roared at the ceiling, his voice trembling with a rush of regained hope and wild, ecstatic joy.
He announced, "I have an heir. I have an heir!"
He dashed down from the head table like a madman, scooped Vivian up bridal-style, and twirled her around several times right there in front of everyone.
Vivian giggled in embarrassment, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.
Honestly, that scene was hard to watch.
The guests came back to their senses and started rising to congratulate him.
"Congratulations, Your Royal Highness!" Everyone was falling over themselves to congratulate him.
Edward carried Vivian past me.
He paused for a moment.
He looked down at me, his eyes brimming with smug pride and blatant challenge.
It was like he was saying, "Charlotte, did you see that? You useless thing who can't give me a child. You'll never compare to my Vivian."
I lowered my head, wearing just the right mix of heartbreak and a smile that didn't reach my eyes.
But as soon as I looked down, I couldn't stop the grin that curled up uncontrollably at the corners of my mouth.
Honestly, I couldn't help but find it hilarious.
They were the childless prince and his suddenly pregnant mistress.
This whole show was even more entertaining than I'd imagined.
Monica Sinclair, Edward's mother, was so overjoyed she could barely contain herself.
She hurried over to Vivian, grabbed her hand, and looked her over like she was a priceless treasure.
"Wonderful! Finally, the Sinclair family has an heir," she said.
She immediately had someone fetch the pair of exquisite bracelets she wore and slipped them onto Vivian's wrists herself.
"Sweet child, you're the pride of Sinclair Manor. If anyone dares to wrong you, I'll be the first to step in." As she said this, she gave me a meaningful glance.
That look was a not-so-subtle warning for me, the "useless duchess," to stay in my lane and behave.
Of course, I knew how to act.
I stood up, walked over to Vivian, and gave her a formal bow.
I said, "Congratulations to you, Vivian, and to you, Your Royal Highness."
My voice was steady and betrayed no emotion.
I even offered, "Vivian, now that you're expecting, the tonics in my quarters are of no use to me. Why not have them sent to your rooms to help with your pregnancy?"
My consideration brought a look of satisfaction to Monica's face.
Edward gave me an approving look, and even his tone softened.
"At least you're finally behaving like a proper Duchess," Edward said, his voice cold.
I scoffed inwardly.
The real show was just getting started.
My children became nothing but basin after basin of blood.
I couldn't wait to see what kind of "child" Vivian ended up bringing into this world.
In the days that followed, Vivian's Rainview Pavilion became the heart of Sinclair Manor. Everyone's eyes were on her.
Edward was practically glued to her side, guarding her like she was some priceless artifact.
Top-tier tonics and supplements were sent in nonstop, flowing like water.
He even brought in three of the palace's most experienced imperial physicians, taking turns to keep a close watch on Vivian and make sure nothing went wrong with her pregnancy.
He was determined to leave nothing to chance.
While the imperial physicians were checking on Vivian, he still clung to a sliver of hope.
He even hoped they'd take a look at him, too, just in case.
He just couldn't accept that he might really be barren.
He was convinced the previous royal physicians were all quacks.
He was sure the imperial physicians from the palace would prove that ridiculous diagnosis wrong.
How could he, Prince Edward, possibly be without an heir?
I watched it all unfold with a cold, detached gaze.
I watched as he pinned all his hopes on Vivian and those imperial physicians.
The higher he climbed, the harder he'd fall.
And when he finally hit rock bottom, I would be right there to shove him even harder.