Chapter 5

In that instant, I saw his fist clenched so tightly that the veins bulged against his skin.

The door clicked shut, sealing me back into the silence.

I slid down the wall, weak and defeated.

Then, a sharp, tearing agony ripped through my stomach.

I looked down to see bright, thick blood streaming down my thighs.

The child was coming.

*****

I was in the throes of a difficult labor. The birthing chamber reeked of blood and sweat.

Midwives and maids hurried in and out, their faces white with panic.

"Your Highness, you have to push."

"Push harder. We can see the baby's head!"

My mind flickered between consciousness and blackness.

The pain ripped through me, my life fading with every breath.

Through the fog, I saw Edward, who stood outside the chamber, still as stone.

I heard his voice, firm and unshakable, to the physician. "Save the mother."

A sharp, confused pain pierced my chest.

He cared more for the child, the tool for his crown, did he not? But why did he choose to save me?

Before I could think any further, another wave of agony crashed over me.

Moments later, a loud, piercing cry shattered the silence in the delivery room.

"He's here! He's here! It's a little boy!" the midwife shouted, her voice bursting with excitement.

I used the last bit of strength I had to turn my head and gaze at the tiny baby bundled up in swaddling cloth.

His eyes were shut tight, his little face all wrinkled up like a miniature old man.

But to me, he was the cutest thing in the world.

This was my child. My son, born of my blood and pain.

I lifted a hand to touch him, but my arm fell limp.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

*****

I woke three days later to Rose's red, swollen eyes.

"Your Highness! You've awoken! We feared we'd lost you!" Rose sobbed, her voice trembling with relief.

My lips were cracked and dry. I whispered hoarsely, "W-Where is my son?"

Rose replied, pride bright on her face, "He is fine. The Crown Prince has tended him personally.

"His Highness named him Andrew—meaning 'peaceful one'. He wishes the boy a life of safety and joy."

As soon as I heard that, tears filled my eyes.

Edward, after all, had given him a name of love.

Just then, the door opened.

Edward entered, carrying the swaddled baby.

He had lost weight, dark circles heavy beneath his eyes, worn and exhausted.

Yet he held the child with gentle, practiced care.

He approached the bed and laid Andrew beside me. "He takes after you."

Those were the first words he'd spoken to me since I gave birth.

I looked down at my sleeping son.

His eyes held my shape.

But that straight nose and those thin lips? They were unmistakably Edward's.

"Your Highness..." My voice was still weak. "Thank you."

Thank him for saving me. Thank him for giving our son a name filled with kindness.

Edward avoided my gaze, his hand hovering as his fingers grazed the baby's cheek.

A tremor ran through him, faint and fleeting.

"Charlotte." His voice was rough, low with gravity. "I will handle your grandparents. I swear, no one will ever harm you or Andrew again."

His words seeped into the frozen recesses of my heart, cracking the ice.

I studied the sharp, handsome lines of his profile, my chest tightening with a storm of conflicting emotions.

Maybe he wasn't completely heartless after all.

Perhaps his heart was simply burdened by too many heavy things, leaving him unable to understand how to love.

Maybe all his tenderness had been mine in my previous life, but in this one, I was nothing more than a stranger he was forced to use.

*****

On the day of Andrew's first month, Alexander issued a decree: the entire realm was to celebrate.

Gifts flooded the Crown Prince's Palace, piling up in towering mounds.

Edward stood before the court, holding Andrew, wearing a perfect, warm smile.

At that moment, he was the very image of a doting husband and father.

But I knew it was nothing more than a charade.

When the banquet was over, he carried Aiden back to my chambers.

Once he handed the baby to me, the smile on his face disappeared without a trace.

He announced, his voice dropping to a cold edge, "Henry has made his move.

"He has petitioned father, citing famine and chaos in the lands of his exile. He demands a return to court."

A chill ran down my spine.

Famine and chaos were merely a pretext.

His true goal was to bring Victoria and Vicaryn back and stake his claim on the throne.

"And the King's decision?" I asked, my voice low.

"He agreed." A dangerous glint flashed in Edward's eyes. "He has restored Henry's title as Prince and granted him a manor within the capital."

My spirits plummeted.

The decree spoke volumes: Alexander had still not chosen an heir.

He intended to let his two sons tear each other apart in the open.

A new wave of dog-eat-dog brutality was on the horizon.

"When do they arrive?" I asked.

Edward looked at me, his gaze a storm of emotions. "Half a month from now. Charlotte, this place won't be peaceful in the days ahead. Are you... afraid?"

I clutched my sleeping son closer and shook my head. "No."

For my child, there was no fear.

Edward seemed taken aback by my resolve.

He hesitated, then spoke in a softer tone, "I will double the guard around you both."

With that, he turned and walked away.

As I watched his solitary retreat, the urge to call him back seized me suddenly.

I wanted to demand when this endless suffering would finally cease.

I wanted to know where Andrew and I fit into the grand design of his plans and what would await us in the end.

But the words died in my throat.

I knew silence was the only answer I would get.

All that was left was to move forward, one step at a time.

*****

A fortnight later, Henry and Victoria returned to the capital, their son Vicaryn in tow.

Alexander hosted a grand welcoming party for them.

Naturally, Edward and I were in attendance.

It was the first time I had laid eyes on Henry since my second chance in life.

He was leaner than I remembered, his features etched with a subtle weariness, as if the harsh realities of his exile had worn him down.

Yet, his eyes remained unchanged: warm, gentle, and bright.

Standing beside him, Victoria made a striking picture. They were, undeniably, a handsome couple.