Chapter 1
My family was known for its fruitful daughters—every woman who married out gave birth to six, seven, eight kids, sometimes more.
But I was the black sheep.
After seven years of marriage toEdward Sinclair, I still hadn't gotten pregnant.
Finally, his mother couldn't take it anymore.
After putting me through endless humiliation, she had him divorced me and kicked me out.
My father was ashamed of me, saying I'd ruined our family's legendary reputation.
The day after I got sent back home, he had me shipped off in a carriage to a widower's house.
*****
When I arrived at the widower's house in that carriage, my wedding dress was soaked through with tears.
The widower was cold as ice toward me.
There was no sign of a wedding anywhere in the house.
No wedding decorations, no roses—nothing.
He came into the room in his military uniform, gave me a quick look, and handed me a ledger.
"This is my pay ledger. I'll give you my salary every month, and I want you to keep track of every expense in here," he said.
"I have a son and a daughter, both already attending school. I hope you'll treat them as your own children. Since you can't have kids yourself, just consider them your own, so you'll have someone to depend on."
With that, he hurried out the door.
My hands trembled as I clutched the ledger, tears blurring my vision all over again.
Those three words "can't have kids" had been my shadow for seven long years.
I never imagined that after finally mustering the courage to leave my old life behind, I'd still be branded with those same words.
That night, when the man finally came home, it was already past midnight.
He didn't hesitate. After a quick wash, he slipped into my bed without a word.
He was rough and unfeeling. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to endure the pain and humiliation until morning.
When I woke up the next morning, he was already gone.
I looked at the bruises all over my body and broke down crying all over again.
Just as I finished getting dressed, an old maid led two kids into the room.
Trying to win me over, she introduced them, saying, "These are your new son and daughter."
The kids were shivering with fear, desperately hiding behind her.
I glanced at them, feeling nothing.
Back when I was living at the Sinclair family, whenever guests brought their children over, my mother-in-law would call me out to the living room.
"Look at the kids. How long have you been married, and you still can't pop out a single kid?" she'd sneer, making sure everyone saw my embarrassment.
"Even a rooster's backside is more useful than yours."
Every time, her words twisted like a knife in my chest.
Especially when I had to listen to those women around me, their sneering laughter rising and falling, each one more contemptuous than the last.
It felt like I was being stripped bare and flayed alive.
What tore me up the most was, every time after the guests left, my mother-in-law would have someone drag me into her room.
She'd pin me down and force me to drink all sorts of disgusting herbal remedies.
Some were brewed from poisonous bugs and all sorts of bizarre folk remedies.
Others came from dirt "blessed" by the fertility goddess, scooped straight from her shrines.
Every time, I'd be forced to drink so much I'd gag and retch uncontrollably.
Sometimes, the servants were so rough they'd end up tearing my lips bloody.
But every time I dragged myself back to my room, weak and exhausted, Edward would give me that disgusted look.
"Did you get into it with my mother again? Can't you just go along with her for once?
"She's just trying to help you, so you can finally have a kid," he would grumble.
So, countless times, in the dead of night, I'd lie there alone, tears streaming down my face, wondering.
Why does everyone have to have kids?
For a long time, I just couldn't stand the thought of children.
Seeing how uninterested I was, the old maid said a few more things about the kids, then ushered them out of the room.
I didn't even bother to respond.
Every day, I'd just hole up in my room, either reading or doing embroidery.
As for my new husband, he just ignored me completely.
He was out the door before sunrise.
He wouldn't come home until after I'd already gone to bed.
Every night, he'd go through the motions with me—cold, rough, and emotionless—then just roll over and fall asleep.
Even after half a year of being married to him, I still didn't know his name.
The only thing that changed was, when he touched me now, the pain was gone. I just felt numb.
Sometimes, without even realizing it, my body would instinctively go along with him.
But then, six months into our marriage, my period was suddenly half a month late.
If this had happened before, I would have been over the moon.
A late period meant I was pregnant.
But now, I just acted like nothing had happened.
After all, during those seven years I was married to Edward, my period was late more than once.
Every time, I'd get my hopes up, thinking I was finally pregnant, and I'd hurry to tell him.
But every time, he'd call the doctor to check me.
The doctor would always stroke his beard thoughtfully. "My Lady, your pulse doesn't suggest pregnancy—it's cold-dampness in the body that's delayed your cycle. I'll prepare a few decoctions to expel the cold. That should set things right."
After the doctor left, Edward would give me the cold shoulder and scold me even harsher than usual.
"Don't embarrass yourself like this again," he'd say.
My mother-in-law was even crueler. The next day, when I brought her coffee, she'd throw a cup of boiling hot coffee right in my face.
"You shameless disgrace! You know you can't have kids, but you still call the doctor over? Do you even realize you've turned the Sinclair family into the biggest joke in all of Capitoa?
"Everyone's saying I spent a fortune on a grand wedding, only to bring home a barren old woman," she would sneer.
Thinking back on all that, I felt my heart clenched painfully all over again.
So this time, I didn't even bother calling the doctor.
Just like always, I had my breakfast, then sat by the window, reading or doing embroidery.
But then, around midday, the old maid who looked after the kids suddenly burst into my room.
"Ma'am, Lucas's servant just came back and said Lucas punched the son of a captain so hard he made his lip bleed," she blurted out.
I just gave her a cool, indifferent glance, barely lifting my brows.
"Go find your captain at the barracks," I replied, not bothering to show any concern.
The old woman's face went pale with anxiety.
"I can't, ma'am. The captain told me this morning he's heading out to West Hill for a week of training, and he said I should let you know not to wait up for him tonight," she blurted out.
Wait up for him? When have I ever waited for him to come home?
But I still closed my book, stood up, and followed the old maid out the door.
But as soon as I stepped into that academy, my chest tightened with old pain.
This place was set up by the former Chancellor after he retired.
I was born into the aristocracy, just like Edward.
We grew up learning side by side in these halls.
We once patched up a little bird that had fallen from a tree branch together.
Every time Smith Kemmel, the tutor, punished me by making me stand at the corner, Edward would always stand there with me.
When we were just kids, Edward swore that once I came of age, he'd marry me with a grand wedding parade.
And he kept his promise.
But after we got married, just because I couldn't have children, the man who once had eyes only for me now treated me like I was just yesterday's leftovers.
Tears threatened to spill, but the old maid behind me ushered me in, and I bit them back, forcing myself not to cry.
As I walked down the familiar corridor, not yet reaching the inner hall of the academy, I saw Edward standing tall in the pavilion.
It had been half a year since I last saw him, but he was still as tall and upright as ever.