CHAPTER 117: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN

Carlos was on his knees, his face twisted in a grimace of agony, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle.

"Please!" Beatrice cried out. Her voice was thin and trembling, the sound of a grandmother whose heart was breaking. She stepped forward, reaching out a shaking hand toward Derek. "Please, let him go. He is your brother. He is grieving."

Derek looked at his grandmother. He saw the fear in her eyes. His jaw tightened. The cold fury in his gaze did not abate, but his grip loosened slightly.

With a sudden, violent motion, he shoved Carlos away.

Carlos stumbled backward, clutching his bruised wrist to his chest. He fell against the side of the bed, gasping for air, his eyes wide with humiliation and lingering rage.

Derek did not look at him again. He turned his back on his brother and faced Marissa.

The terrifying aura of the warlord vanished instantly. He stepped close to her, his body shielding her from the rest of the room. He reached out, his gloved hands cupping her face gently. The leather was cool against her skin.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice low and urgent. His eyes scanned her face, searching for any redness, any sign that Carlos’s hand had made contact. "Are you okay?"

Marissa looked up at him. Her heart did a small, traitorous flip. In the midst of this chaos, with accusations of murder flying and her sister bleeding on the bed, he was only looking at her.

She nodded. She forced a small, reassuring smile onto her lips.

"I am fine," she whispered. "He didn’t touch me."

Derek examined her for a moment longer. He brushed his thumb against her cheekbone, a possessive, protective gesture. Satisfied that she was unharmed, he slowly lowered his hands.

He turned back to the room. His posture straightened. He was the Grand Duke again.

He looked at Carlos, who was struggling to stand up, his face pale.

Pp

"Don’t ever repeat this mistake again," Derek said. His voice was calm, which made it all the more terrifying. "I might not be compliant next time. If you raise a hand against the Grand Duchess, you raise a hand against me. And you know what happens to my enemies."

Carlos glared at him, nursing his wrist, but he said nothing. The threat was clear.

Derek turned toward the heavy oak door.

"Come in," he bellowed.

The door opened immediately. The Royal Physician walked in. He was an older man with a white beard and a stooped back, wearing the official robes of the palace medical court. He carried a heavy wooden case. He did not look nervous or hurried like Dr. Aris. He looked serious and professional.

Carlos stood up straighter. He pointed a shaking finger at Marissa.

"You murderer," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "You brought him here to twist the truth. You want to use your influence to cover up your crime."

"The truth remains unclear," Derek interrupted him, his voice sharp. "And I am warning you, Carlos. Mind your reckless accusations. Until the Royal Physician speaks, you know nothing."

Carlos fell silent, but his eyes burned with hate. He turned and rushed to Ashlyn’s side. He sat on the edge of the bed and took her cold, clammy hand in his.

"Don’t worry, my love," he whispered to her. "The truth will come out. Justice will be served."

Ashlyn lay on the pillows, her eyes wide and terrified. She wasn’t afraid of justice. She was afraid of exposure. She watched the Royal Physician approach the bed. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

He will know, she thought, panic rising in her throat. He is the King’s doctor. He will see the traces of the Western pill. He will see that there was no baby. He will tell everyone I am a liar and a fraud.

She squeezed Carlos’s hand so hard her nails dug into his skin. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But she was trapped in the bed, trapped in her lie.

"Please," Ashlyn whispered weakly. "I am so tired..."

"It will only take a moment, My Lady," the Royal Physician said gently.

The room went deathly silent. Beatrice leaned on her cane, holding her breath. Marissa stood by the window, her face impassive, but her mind racing. She was waiting for the verdict. She was waiting for the moment Ashlyn’s lies crumbled.

The physician examined her. He sat there for a long time. Too long.

His brow furrowed. He looked at Ashlyn’s face. Then he looked at the blood-stained sheets that had been pushed to the floor. He frowned.

He moved his hand to her stomach. He pressed gently. Ashlyn flinched, not from pain, but from fear.

The physician pulled his hand back. He stood up and cleared his throat.

Carlos jumped up. "Well?" he demanded. "She miscarried, didn’t she? My sister-in-law pushed her and killed my child!"

The physician looked at Carlos, then at Derek, and finally at the Dowager.

"You claim she just miscarried?" the physician asked slowly.

Carlos nodded his head vigorously. "Yes! There was so much blood. The other doctor, Dr. Aris, he confirmed it. He said the child was gone."

The Royal Physician shook his head. A look of confusion crossed his face.

"That is... incorrect," the physician said.

Ashlyn stopped breathing. This was it. He was going to say it. There was never a baby.

"The bleeding is severe," the physician continued. "And her symptoms shows signs of great trauma."

He paused.

"But," he said, his voice ringing clearly in the silent room. "The fetus still remains intact."

The words hung in the air, heavy and impossible.

Ashlyn’s eyes widened in shock. Her jaw dropped. She stared at the physician, her mind completely blank.

Fetus Intact?

But... I took the pill. The red pill from Senna. It causes hemorrhaging. It mimics a miscarriage.

And... I wasn’t pregnant. I made it up. I lied.

How can the fetus be intact if there was no fetus?

Beatrice let out a gasp. Her hands flew to her mouth. Her face, which had been grey with grief, suddenly beamed with joy.

"Really?" she cried out, her voice trembling with hope. "The child... the child is still alive? My great-grandchild is safe?"

"Yes, Your Grace," the physician said. "The heartbeat is faint, very faint, but it is there. It is a miracle, given the amount of blood loss, but the pregnancy holds."

Carlos looked like he had been struck by lightning. He looked from the doctor to Ashlyn.

"Alive?" he whispered. Then a massive, stupid grin spread across his face. "Alive! My son is alive! He is strong! He survived the fall!"

He turned to Marissa, his expression triumphant. "You see? You couldn’t kill him! My blood is too strong for you!"

But Marissa wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the physician, and then at Ashlyn.

Marissa was the most shocked of all. Her mask of calm cracked. Her eyes widened.

"What?" she whispered in disbelief.