Chapter 13
Alesia had once been pregnant, but she never gave birth.
She lost the child.
The baby had been her sole ray of hope, her precious gift, the only reason she’d endured living in the palace.
The child had likely been conceived the night Franz visited her chamber heavily intoxicated. That night, he’d come to her room drunk, treating her coldly and roughly, as he had during their wedding night.
For Alesia, intimacy was always painful. When Franz left in the morning, she quietly shed tears. Crying silently was the only luxury allowed her.
Yet, soon after, hope quietly knocked on her door.
First, her normally regular monthly cycle abruptly ceased. At first, she blamed it on stress, but weeks passed without its return. Then suddenly, food odors made her feel terribly sick.
Instinctively, Alesia recognized these symptoms. She tried calling for the imperial doctor, but no one came. No palace physician would visit an abandoned princess in a forgotten annex. So, with Sara’s help, she discreetly summoned a civilian doctor.
“Congratulations, Your Highness. You’re about five weeks along.”
How shocked and joyful she’d been at those words. Alesia wept with happiness the entire day.
A child conceived by Franz—his legitimate heir, carrying their shared blood.
My angel, you’ve come to me.
A gift from heaven, sent out of pity for my suffering.
She tenderly caressed her still-flat belly repeatedly, whispering softly. She felt even the bleak annex brighten with this newfound hope.
But that happiness hinged upon the child being safely delivered.
“You must be extremely cautious. Early pregnancy is delicate; even minor shocks can cause miscarriage. You’re especially fragile, Your Highness.”
Alesia ensured the news remained strictly secret. She forbade not only the doctor but also the annex staff—Sara and Izolde, the only ones who remained—from revealing her pregnancy.
Once the child was stable, she’d inform Franz. Maybe he’d finally leave Nyris and return to her side when he heard of it.
Hope blossomed quietly within her. She gently stroked her invisible child again and again.
“My baby, my jewel, my little angel.”
Not even able to choose a name yet, she poured out all the sweetest words she could find. She was blissfully happy. She felt strong enough to withstand Patricia’s nagging letters or gossip about Franz’s rendezvous with Nyris.
Because she had the baby.
Because Franz would surely return for their child’s sake.
At least, until she lost the child.
Alesia’s radiant hope turned abruptly into devastating despair on a day like any other. The only unusual event was Nyris’s visit.
Nyris had occasionally come to the annex, often insulting Alesia. It wasn’t particularly strange. The problem arose because Alesia’s morning sickness was unusually severe that day.
When Alesia gagged during tea, Nyris took deep offense, thinking Alesia openly showed disgust toward her.
“Miss Nyris, please, it’s a misunderstanding—I swear it isn’t that!”
“What else could it be? Do you find me disgusting because I’m with Franz? Who do you think you are, living in this shabby annex?”
“Miss Nyris!”
“You don’t even deserve this annex. I’ll make you regret this insult.”
Nyris stormed out. Terrified that Nyris’s anger might reach Franz, Alesia desperately pursued her.
She followed Nyris to the steepest staircase in the annex.
“Lady Roshanak, I’m truly sorry. It wasn’t intentional—”
“Let go of me!”
Nyris violently shook Alesia’s hand away, causing her to lose her balance and tumble down the stairs.
Even as she fell, Alesia desperately wrapped her arms around her belly. She didn’t care if she died, but her child—her child had to survive.
“Your Highness!”
“Doctor! Quickly!”
The last things she saw before losing consciousness were Nyris’s pale, frozen face and Sara’s bloodied hands.
The child, who had quietly entered her life, departed just as silently. Overwhelmed by guilt and despair, Alesia collapsed emotionally.
If only she hadn’t grabbed Nyris.
If only she hadn’t been nauseous in front of her. If only she had held it in.
Then maybe she wouldn’t have lost the child.
Consumed by guilt, Alesia withdrew completely, too ashamed to leave her bedroom.
She was a sinner.
After that day, Nyris began staying openly at the Second Prince’s palace. Apparently, she was traumatized after seeing the princess consort’s “violent tantrum.” Franz took Nyris into the palace to comfort her.
A violent tantrum.
Absurd as it sounded, that became the official story. Alesia was portrayed as a jealous woman who had harmed herself in rage.
Franz remained mercilessly indifferent.
Even hearing that she had been injured, he never visited her.
If she revealed her lost pregnancy, he’d accuse her of lying for attention.
Alesia learned to quietly surrender beneath his cold neglect.
Until Franz unexpectedly sent for her.
Receiving his letter bearing his seal, hope rekindled inside her. Perhaps if Franz wanted her again, she could bear another child. This time, she’d protect the child at all costs.
But all her hopes proved futile.
Trusting Franz once more robbed her of even that fragile chance at motherhood, ultimately leading her toward her tragic, miserable death.
“…Your Highness?”
Belisa’s gentle voice snapped Alesia back to reality. Belisa, holding a teacup, looked at her with concern, placing a handkerchief on her lap.
Alesia cleared her throat and smiled faintly, her eyes suspiciously moist.
“Lady Natalia seems very fond of you, Duchess.”
“Yes, well…”
Belisa nearly added, “Because I am her mother,” but refrained. She felt certain the tears pooling in the princess consort’s eyes would spill over at any additional mention of motherhood.
She quickly gestured to Natalia’s nursemaid.
“Nat, go to Meggie for a while. Mommy needs to talk with the princess consort.”
“Yes, Mommy!”
“Come, young lady.”
Alesia watched intensely as the little girl walked away, tiny hand grasped firmly by the nursemaid.
She had invited Belisa and her daughter merely to establish friendly relations. But seeing Natalia, she realized she’d deceived herself.
She had truly wanted to see her—a small, innocent child loved from birth, cherished as she grew.
“Lady Natalia is truly adorable.”
Only after Natalia had vanished from view could Alesia finally speak, her voice breaking despite her efforts to remain composed.
“Oh dear. Perhaps I drank my tea too quickly.”
She laughed lightly, turning her head aside, struggling to hold back her tears.
‘I can’t cry here.’
She had called Belisa here for a reason. She couldn’t risk spoiling that chance by breaking down in tears during their first meeting.
As Alesia fought to steady herself, Belisa quietly sipped her tea, tactfully giving her time to regain composure.
Clearly, the princess consort hadn’t invited them to chastise her for neglect or disrespect.
“You must be preparing for your wedding soon, Your Highness.”
Belisa gently lowered her cup, continuing softly.
“Marriage changes many things—not just for oneself, but for those around you.”
“You were fortunate to gain Lady Natalia upon your marriage. It must feel lucky, meeting such a lovely child.”
Belisa raised her eyes in surprise at the princess consort’s murmured words. Alesia’s voice was thick with unmistakable envy. The yearning gaze from earlier wasn’t an illusion.
‘Strange…Lady Ambrose hasn’t even married yet, let alone had a child. What story does she have hidden?’
Belisa cautiously ventured,
“You seem to adore children, Your Highness. Perhaps soon—”
“Such luck isn’t granted to everyone.”
Alesia regained her usual composure, elegantly interrupting Belisa.
“I doubt I’m so fortunate.”
