Chapter 2

The snow had stopped, leaving the ground covered in white.

My personal maid, Beth, hurried over.

"Ma'am, why are you out here? You'll catch a cold."

I looked at the steaming bowl of prenatal tea in her hands.

New comments floated before my eyes:

[The maid was bribed by the queen a long time ago. There's a slow-acting poison in the medicine.]

I took the bowl, my fingertips brushing against the warm ceramic, then spoke up.

"Beth—has your brother's gambling debt been paid off?"

The bowl slipped from her hands and smashed against the ground. The crash cut through the quiet of the snowy night.

Beth's face went ghost white as she dropped to her knees.

"P-Please, ma'am, have mercy! The queen forced me. She took my brother..."

I bent down and picked up the biggest piece of broken porcelain.

Its sharp edge reflected my pale face.

I set the shard gently on the stone table.

"Starting tomorrow, keep making the medicine like always. But cut the dose by thirty percent each time, and save the leftover dregs."

Beth was shaking uncontrollably as she continued pleading for forgiveness.

I turned and walked back inside, letting the cold wind rush in as I opened the door.

Darius stirred awake, still groggy.

"Celeste?"

Moonlight stretched my shadow long across the floor.

Softly, my voice blending into the night, I said, "Darius... since you chose her... don't blame me for choosing the world."

…

Palace lights illuminated the night sky.

Under the excuse that "two pregnant sisters-in-law should spend more time together," Bellareyna summoned me to the palace.

The queen's chambers were filled with the scent of warm, spelled oils. Bellareyna was lounging lazily against a cushioned couch, her pregnant belly forming a soft curve beneath an embroidered blanket.

She beckoned me closer and personally handed me a bowl of herbal broth.

"Celeste, try this. It's a restorative tonic made from rare southern roots—excellent for building your strength."

I reached out to take it.

Then her fingers suddenly let go.

The scalding soup splashed across the back of my hand, leaving an angry red burn almost instantly.

Bellareyna let out a dramatic gasp, though a glint of satisfaction flashed in her eyes.

"Oh no! Celeste, are you okay? I'm so clumsy…"

The pain seared straight to the bone. But I just pulled my hand back and calmly wiped it with a handkerchief.

Just then, the doors swung open and Darius strode in.

He saw the red swelling on my hand.

He saw the spilled soup all over the floor.

And then he walked toward Bellareyna.

"Did you get burned?"

His voice was low, his eyes fixed on the faint redness on Bellareyna's fingertips.

Bellareyna's eyes immediately welled up with tears.

"Darius, I didn't mean to…"

Only then did Darius look at me. His expression was calm—so calm it sent a chill through me.

"The queen is pregnant. Her emotions are unstable. Be more understanding."

Be more understanding.

Three light, careless words.

I stared at him and suddenly remembered our first year of marriage.

Back then, I accidentally knocked over a bowl of hot soup and burned my hand. Darius rode thirty miles through the night to find the best burn cream money could buy.

By the time he got back, dawn was breaking. He knelt by the bed and applied it himself, his hands shaking worse than mine.

Back then, he said, "Celeste, I'd rather be the one who gets hurt."

"I understand," I said softly, lowering my eyes.

Darius looked like he wanted to say something, but Bellareyna gave a small cough.

Right away, he turned back to help her get comfortable.

The floating comments scrolled by again:

[The second lead really cares about the heroine. I'm obsessed.]

[But honestly, I think he does love the supporting female lead too.]

I gently touched my finger to the blister on the back of my hand.

So this was what they called love?

After we got back to the estate, Darius treated me even more gently.

He cooked nourishing soups for me himself, cooling each spoonful before feeding it to me.

My morning sickness got bad, so he stayed up with me every night. The slightest move from me woke him right up.

And every day, he personally brought me the "prenatal tonic" the queen had sent, watching until I drank every last drop.

Each time I swallowed the final mouthful, he'd quietly let out a breath of relief, as if he'd just finished some crucial task.

What he didn't know…