Chapter 2

The next morning, the maid who came to wake me let out a scream.

"Willette's face..." she stammered, tripping over her own feet as she rushed off to tell Priscilla.

It wasn't long before hurried footsteps echoed through the courtyard.

"You reckless brat!" Priscilla stormed in, her perfectly maintained face twisting in fury when she saw the rash covering my cheeks.

"You're supposed to go to the palace today. Are you trying to ruin Lady Belle's big day on purpose?"

I covered my face, sobbing. "Mother, you have to believe me. I swear, it must've been the fish from last night. Maybe it wasn't fresh..."

Tears streamed down my rash-covered cheeks, making the whole mess look even more horrifying.

Priscilla's fingers trembled with rage, but just then, the bead curtain rattled as my younger sister, Celia, burst in, holding up her skirt. "Mother, since Willette's face is ruined, why not let me go instead?"

Her eyes glinted, and I knew exactly what she was plotting.

Her fiancé, who broke his leg fighting over the top courtesan at the Velvet Veil, had long been the laughingstock of the whole city.

Celia had been desperate to escape the engagement, but her fiancé was Scott Nelson, the heir to the powerful Nelson family, someone we couldn't afford to cross.

Priscilla might have hated the idea of sending her own daughter to the palace, but at this point, she really had no other option.

There were only two girls in our family who were of age—me and Celia.

That night, Celia rode through the palace gates in a pale yellow sedan chair.

As for my rash, it was gone in three days.

"Since you're better now, start getting ready to marry into the Nelson family," Priscilla said, nonchalantly stirring the foam on her wine.

"Scott's been in a coma for over a month, and the Nelson family wants to hold a wedding to bring him luck."

I curtsied obediently, hiding the smile tugging at my lips.

Scott Nelson, the heir to the Nelson family, was infamous throughout the capital for always frequenting the city's pleasure districts and living a life of indulgence.

But the Nelson family was loaded, and most importantly, in my previous life, Scott died during a party three years later.

The day they sent me into the Nelson estate, I ran my fingers over the thread on my wedding dress and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

There was nothing freer in this world than being a young, wealthy widow.

There was no ceremony. They just sent me straight to his room.

Trina, Scott's mother, said to me, "Even though my son's in a coma, he's still able to father children. You should get pregnant as soon as possible."

Behind the silken canopy, Scott lay quietly, the candlelight bathing his pale face in a soft, golden glow.

I clutched the edge of my dress, my heart in turmoil. What am I supposed to do now?

In my previous life, all I had to do was throw the King a sultry look, and the maids would take care of the rest.

But now... I hesitated, then bit my lip and reached for his belt.

Either way, he won't know a thing... I reassured myself, and in just a few quick moves, I undid his robe.

I couldn't help but admit, this notorious playboy was absurdly handsome. His sculpted chest rose and fell with every breath; just looking at him made my ears burn.

As I was blushing and fumbling with my wedding dress, I suddenly locked eyes with a pair of clear, lucid eyes.

"Lady Willette?" he said, his voice calm and unmistakable.

I was so shocked, I fell right off the bed.

Wait, that was my title when I was made the King's consort in my previous life. How the hell does he know that?

Scott pushed himself up on the bed, his eyes glinting coldly. "What are you doing here?"

"T-today's our wedding day..." I stammered, fumbling to cover myself up. "You've been in a coma for over a month, and I'm here to bring you some good fortune, as tradition demands."

He threw back the covers to check the situation, his face instantly darkening. "Who allowed you here?"

As the candlelight flickered, I could clearly see a flash of murderous intent in his eyes.

He was nothing like the infamous playboy everyone gossips about.

"Get out," he snapped coldly.

'Fine, I'll leave. No big deal. He won't die for another three years anyway. Now that he's awake, I've got plenty of time to get myself pregnant,' I smirked to myself.

When I pushed open the door, my maid, Tilda, was leaning against the porch pillar, half-asleep. My sudden appearance made her jolt upright.

"Miss!" she blurted out, her eyes wide as her gaze flicked to my messy collar. "Why did you come out?"

I pulled my collar together and whispered urgently, "Go tell Lady Trina right now. Scott's awake."

Seeing Tilda still standing there, stunned, I pressed, "Don't just stand there; spread the word. I want everyone in the estate to know he's awake."

That snapped her out of it. She grabbed her skirt and dashed off like a shot.

Sure, I didn't get pregnant tonight like I hoped, but I was dead set on making sure everyone knew it was me who brought this stroke of good fortune to the Nelson family, and I wasn't about to let anyone else take the credit.

It wasn't long before Trina came rushing in with the doctor.