Chapter : 1677

  The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the Siddik estate’s eastern wing, casting long, pale beams across the floor of Mina’s private quarters. To the outside world, the estate was a fortress of commerce and tradition, the beating heart of the southern trade routes. But inside these walls, in the quiet solitude of her room, Mina Siddik was harboring a secret that had the potential to shatter the fragile political landscape of the entire kingdom.

  She sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection in the polished silver mirror. Her face was pale, paler than usual, and there were faint shadows beneath her eyes that no amount of powder could truly conceal. Her hand moved instinctively, almost unconsciously, to rest against her lower abdomen. It was a gesture she had found herself repeating a hundred times a day over the last week, a silent communion with a reality she was still struggling to comprehend.

  She was pregnant.

  The realization had not come with a singular moment of shock, but rather a slow, dawning certainty that had solidified into a tidal wave of conflicting emotions. There was joy, a fierce, terrifying, and overwhelming joy that bloomed in her chest whenever she thought about the life growing inside her. It was a piece of him. A piece of Lloyd. The man whose intellect matched her own, whose quiet strength had anchored her during the darkest days of her mother’s illness, and whose forbidden touch had awakened a part of her soul she thought had died with her husband years ago.

  But riding the crest of that joy was a crushing, suffocating terror. She was not a naive girl. She was a Siddik, a woman versed in the brutal arithmetic of nobility and reputation. She knew exactly what this child represented to the world. It was not just a baby; it was a political nuclear bomb.

  Lloyd was married to her sister.

  The fact that they were estranged, that Lloyd had demanded a divorce, that he and Rosa lived in separate worlds—none of that mattered in the eyes of the law or the court of public opinion. In the rigid, unforgiving structure of their society, Mina was the sister-in-law who had usurped her sister’s place. If this secret came out, it wouldn't just be a scandal; it would be a declaration of war between House Ferrum and House Siddik. It would destroy Lloyd’s reputation, branding him an adulterer and a oath-breaker just as he was ascending to the peak of his power. It would humiliate Rosa, turning the Ice Queen into a figure of public pity and scorn.

  "I cannot let that happen," Mina whispered to the empty room, her voice trembling.

  She rose from the vanity, fighting back a sudden wave of nausea. The morning sickness had been brutal, a relentless physical reminder of her condition. She reached for the small vial of herbal tonic she had brewed herself, hiding it among her perfumes and oils. She took a quick sip, the bitter taste of ginger and peppermint settling her stomach, though it did nothing for the anxiety churning in her gut.

  She had to be careful. More careful than she had ever been in her life. She had already begun to distance herself from the social calendar, citing a lingering fatigue from the recent travels and the stress of the war. It was a plausible lie, one that bought her time. She avoided the communal meals when she could, claiming a need to focus on her archaeological translations.

  But the hardest part was keeping it from Lloyd.

  Every instinct in her body screamed to send a message to the north, to tell him that they had created a life together. She knew, with absolute certainty, that he would not reject her. Lloyd Ferrum was a man who took responsibility. He would protect her. He would protect the child. He would likely burn down the world to ensure their safety.

  And that was exactly why she couldn't tell him.

  Lloyd was already carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was fighting the Devil Race, managing the AURA empire, navigating the treacherous waters of the royal court, and dealing with the complex entanglements of Amina and Faria. If she dropped this news on him now, it would shatter his focus. It would force him into a corner where he would have to fight a war on yet another front—a domestic war against her own family.

  Chapter : 1678

  However, her efforts were in vain. One month ago, as Mina left the lab one evening, Lloyd watched her go, noting the microscopic change in her center of gravity. His [All-Seeing Eye] flickered involuntarily, piercing through her clothes and skin to trace the new, rhythmic pulse of a second heartbeat within her. He knew. He had known for three days. But seeing the desperate, protective silence in her eyes, the cold General in his head ordered him to remain silent. He would let her have her secret and carry the weight for both of them until the world finally forced his hand.

  "Not yet," she told herself, smoothing down the front of her dress, ensuring the fabric hung loose enough to conceal any slight change in her figure. "I will protect him by silence. Just for a little while longer."

  She walked to the window, looking out over the manicured gardens of the estate. The world looked different now. Every shadow seemed to hold a spy; every whisper seemed to be about her. She felt exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn't since she was a child.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Mina jumped, her hand flying away from her stomach as if she had been burned. She took a deep breath, composing her features into a mask of calm curiosity.

  "Enter," she called out.

  The door opened, and a maid stepped in, looking flustered. "Lady Mina," the girl said with a bow. "Lady Rosa has arrived. She is in the main parlor and wishes to see you immediately."

  Mina’s blood ran cold. Rosa. Here? Now?

  Her sister was supposed to be at the Ferrum or capital, or managing the northern trade routes. Rosa rarely visited the main estate unannounced, especially not since the tension with Lloyd had escalated. Rosa was a creature of schedules, of logic and predictability. An unannounced visit was an anomaly. And in Rosa’s world, anomalies were investigated.

  "Tell her I will be down in a moment," Mina said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart.

  As the maid left, Mina turned back to the mirror. She checked her face again. Was she too pale? Did her eyes betray the secret? She pinched her cheeks to bring some color into them and straightened her spine. She had to be perfect. She had to be the supportive older sister, the scholar, the widow. She could not be the lover. She could not be the mother.

  She walked out of her room, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the hallway like the ticking of a clock. She was walking into a lion’s den, and the lion was her own flesh and blood. Rosa possessed an intellect that rivaled Lloyd’s and a perception honed by years of espionage. Mina prayed to every god she knew that her sister’s gaze would be clouded by her own grief, that she would be too focused on her broken marriage to see the fracture in Mina’s own life.

  But as she descended the grand staircase, a heavy sense of dread settled over her. Secrets in the world of high nobility were like smoke; you could try to catch them, hold them in your hands, but eventually, they would slip through your fingers and fill the room. And Rosa... Rosa had spent a lifetime learning how to read the smoke.

  Rosa Siddik stood in the center of the parlor, her posture as rigid and impeccable as a statue carved from marble. She was dressed in travel leathers of deep blue and silver, the colors of her house, but the dust of the road was notably absent from her attire. Even in transit, the Ice Queen maintained an aura of pristine perfection.

  She stared at a painting on the wall—a portrait of the family from happier times—but her eyes were not seeing the brushstrokes. Her mind was a churning engine of calculation and analysis. She had told herself she was coming here to bring gifts from the East, rare silks and spices that Mina enjoyed. It was a sisterly gesture, a logical maintenance of familial bonds.

  But logic was a mask she wore less comfortably these days.

  Deep down, beneath the layers of rationalization, there was an itch in her brain. A persistent, nagging instinct that she couldn't silence. It had started with the reports of Mina’s frequent trips to the capital, specifically to the industrial district where Lloyd’s R&D manufactory was located. Ostensibly, Mina was there as a consultant on the Golem Heart project. It was a valid reason. Lloyd respected intellect, and Mina was a brilliant historian. It made sense.

  And yet.

  Chapter : 1679

  Rosa remembered the way Mina had looked at Lloyd during the ball. She remembered the silence that had stretched between them when Lloyd had asked Mina for a dance. She remembered the subtle shift in Mina’s letters, the way she spoke of the future with a strange, guarded optimism that didn't fit her usual melancholic demeanor.

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  "You are being paranoid," Rosa thought, her internal voice sharp and critical. "You are projecting your own obsession with him onto everyone else. Mina is your sister. She is loyal. She knows the boundaries."

  She heard footsteps on the stairs and turned. Mina entered the room, a smile plastered on her face. To anyone else, it would have looked like a genuine expression of welcome. But Rosa had spent five years as a spy in a hostile court. She knew the anatomy of a fake smile. She saw the tightness at the corners of the eyes, the slight tension in the jaw.

  "Rosa!" Mina exclaimed, moving forward with open arms. "What a wonderful surprise. We didn't expect you until next month."

  "Plans change," Rosa said, her voice cool and melodic. She accepted the embrace, but her body remained stiff. As she pulled back, her eyes swept over her sister with the precision of a scanner.

  She noticed the looseness of Mina’s dress. Mina usually favored tailored, structured gowns that emphasized her figure. This was a flowing tunic, elegant but concealing.

  She noticed the way Mina stood. Her weight was shifted slightly back, her hand hovering near her waist before quickly dropping to her side, a aborted protective gesture.

  And then there was the smell. Beneath the scent of lavender soap, Rosa’s enhanced senses—sharpened by her time in the Special Training Palace and her awakening as a Sovereign—picked up a faint, medicinal undertone. Ginger. Peppermint. Herbs used to settle the stomach.

  "You look... tired, Mina," Rosa said, keeping her tone neutral. "Are you unwell?"

  Mina waved a hand dismissively, moving towards the seating area. "Just the changing seasons. You know how the damp air affects me. I’ve been a bit sluggish lately."

  "Is that why you have been avoiding the capital?" Rosa asked, sitting down opposite her. She watched Mina’s reaction closely.

  "The capital is exhausting," Mina said, pouring tea with a hand that trembled ever so slightly. "And my work on the translations requires quiet. I’ve found the estate to be more conducive to focus."

  "Focus is important," Rosa agreed. She gestured to the pile of wrapped packages on the table. "I brought you some things from the Eastern delegation. There is a bolt of that crimson silk you admire. And some preserved plums."

  At the mention of the plums—sour, salty plums—Mina’s eyes lit up for a fraction of a second before she masked it. It was a microscopic reaction, a flash of visceral hunger that had nothing to do with taste preferences and everything to do with biology.

  Rosa’s heart gave a painful, cold thud in her chest. The data points were accumulating. The loose clothes. The nausea tonic. The fatigue. The craving for sour food. The protective body language.

  It was a hypothesis that made Rosa sick to her stomach, a conclusion she desperately wanted to be wrong. Because if it was true... if Mina was pregnant... then the question of the father became the only variable that mattered. And given Mina’s isolation, her widowhood, and her only recent, significant male contact...

  "Thank you, Rosa," Mina said, reaching for the tea but not drinking it. "That is very thoughtful of you."

  "I also stopped by the manufactory on my way south," Rosa lied smoothly. She hadn't, but she needed to provoke a reaction. "Lloyd was not there. They said he has been spending a lot of time in the archives. Alone."

  Mina flinched. It was subtle, a quick darting of the eyes, a tightening of the fingers around the teacup. "Oh? I... I wouldn't know. I haven't been there in weeks."

  "Really?" Rosa leaned forward slightly, her gaze intensifying. "The logs at the gate suggested otherwise. But perhaps I misread them."

  "You must have," Mina said, her voice taking on a defensive edge. "Why are you checking the logs, Rosa? Are you spying on your husband? Or on me?"

  The accusation hung in the air, sharp and brittle. Rosa didn't flinch. "I am a creature of habit, Mina. I notice things. I notice when patterns change. I notice when my sister, who loves the social season, hides away in the country. I notice when she drinks ginger tonic instead of her favorite black tea."

  Chapter : 1680

  Mina set the cup down with a clatter. "I have an upset stomach, Rosa. Is that a crime against the House?"

  "No," Rosa said softly. "But secrets can be."

  She stood up and walked over to Mina. She placed a hand on Mina’s shoulder. It wasn't a comforting gesture; it was a test. She felt the tension in Mina’s muscles, the way she instinctively pulled away, curling inward to protect her core.

  "You are hiding something, Mina," Rosa whispered, her voice dropping to a temperature that frosted the air between them. "And I have a terrible feeling that I know what it is."

  Mina looked up, her eyes wide with fear and defiance. "You are imagining things. You are letting your jealousy over Lloyd cloud your judgment. Just because he doesn't want you doesn't mean he is..." She stopped herself, realizing she had said too much.

  Rosa’s face went blank. The mention of Lloyd’s rejection was a slap in the face, but the unfinished sentence was a smoking gun. Doesn't mean he is what? With me?

  "I didn't say anything about him being with anyone," Rosa said, her voice dangerously calm. "I just said you were hiding something."

  She pulled back, her mind racing. It was just a hunch. A terrible, gut-wrenching hunch. Mina was a widow; she could have a lover. It didn't have to be him. It could be anyone. A guard. A scholar.

  But it isn't anyone else, a cold voice in Rosa’s head whispered. You know it isn't. Who else is worthy of her intellect? Who else has she been alone with for hours on end?

  Rosa turned away, unable to look at her sister's terrified face any longer. "I am tired from the journey," she said abruptly. "I will retire to my rooms. We will speak later."

  She walked out of the parlor, her back straight, her footsteps echoing with military precision. But inside, the Ice Queen was trembling. She needed proof. She needed to be wrong. But as she walked down the corridor, the image of Mina’s hand hovering over her belly burned in her mind, a brand of betrayal that was just beginning to sear.

  The Siddik estate was wrapped in the heavy silence of the afternoon, the kind of stillness that precedes a violent storm. In the library, dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight, undisturbed by the turmoil brewing within the walls. Mina sat at her desk, surrounded by ancient scrolls and translation notes, but she hadn't read a single word in an hour. Her mind was replaying the conversation with Rosa, dissecting every glance, every pause, every inflection.

  She knew Rosa. She knew that her sister was not a woman who let things go. Rosa was a hunter who tracked truths until she cornered them. The sudden retreat to her rooms wasn't a surrender; it was a tactical withdrawal to analyze the data.

  Mina poured herself a glass of water, her hand shaking so badly that some of it spilled onto the desk. She wiped it away frantically. "Calm down," she muttered. "She knows nothing. She has suspicions, nothing more. Without proof, she cannot act."

  But the door to the library opened, and the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees instantly.

  Rosa entered. She had changed out of her travel leathers into a formal gown of ice-blue silk, a garment that emphasized her stature and her role as the future Duchess. Her silver hair was pinned back severely, exposing the sharp, aristocratic lines of her face. Her expression was unreadable, a mask of flawless porcelain.

  She didn't knock. She didn't greet Mina. She simply walked into the room, closed the door behind her with a definitive click, and locked it.

  Mina stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Rosa? What are you doing?"

  Rosa walked to the center of the room and stopped. She looked at Mina, her grey eyes piercing and cold. "I have been thinking, Mina. About logic. About probability."

  "I am busy, Rosa," Mina said, trying to inject authority into her voice. "If you want to discuss philosophy, can we do it at dinner?"

  "You are with child," Rosa stated.

  It wasn't a question. It wasn't an accusation. It was delivered as a cold, immutable fact, like stating that water freezes at zero degrees.

  The air left Mina’s lungs. The denial died in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, to lie, to act outraged, but her body betrayed her. Her hand flew to her stomach, a reflexive, protective flinch that screamed the truth louder than any words could.

  Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.