Reborn Queen Gets Her Revenge

Natalie. “Congratulations, Your Grace,” the royal physician said with a wide smile, his head lowered in a respectful bow. “You are with child.” My heart skipped a beat. “With child?” I asked again. I must have misheard. It had been two years since I married Tristan, but I couldn't give him an heir—until now. “Yes, Your Grace,” Galen confirmed. My hands tightened around my gown as I slowly stood from the bed where I sat. I glanced out the window. It was getting dark outside, with the sound of rain pattering against the glass. I should tell him this. Perhaps it could fix our relationship. “Do you wish me to inform—” “No need, Galen. You may take your leave,” I cut him off. His brows furrowed. “But—” “That will be all.” My voice came out cold, accompanied by a stern look. He pressed his lips together, his old hands trembling as he nodded and turned to leave. The moment the door shut behind him, a wide smile split across my lips as warmth spread through my chest. Finally. I imagined the look on Tristan's face when I told him. He would smile at me with that gentle look in his eyes. Or... He would probably ignore it. I sat back down on the bed, letting the candlelight cast its warm glow around the room. We used to be so in love. He always smiled at me. He was always kind to me, and he never made me feel bad for not having a wolf. He would always say, "It's fine. I love you anyway." But for the past two months, he had been acting cold toward me. He barely looked me in the eye whenever we were intimate. I let out a breath and rubbed my belly softly. Maybe this was the key to fixing our relationship. I stood and headed for the kitchen. Today, I would prepare dinner and break the news to him. He would be happy, right? When I arrived, the maids were busy preparing dinner. The coal stove burned hot while smoke curled through the air. I scrunched my nose and coughed loudly, drawing their attention. “My lady, you shouldn't be here,” one of my maidservants said, concern etched across her face. I cleared my throat and straightened. I had to do this. Even if I didn't know whether it would work, I still had to try. “Go and fetch His Grace,” I instructed. She glanced at the other maidservants in the kitchen. They exchanged uncertain looks while clutching their skirts. “All of you, take one week off,” I added. “Your Grace...” “Go ahead.” I gestured toward the door, my hair ornaments jingling with the movement. They all hesitated, as if wondering whether it was the right thing to do, but the word of the Duchess was not to be disobeyed. Soon, the kitchen emptied, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the smoke drifting from the hearth in the corner. I quickly finished preparing the meal and set the table. Preparing the meal had almost been a disaster, but thankfully, I had some experience cooking. The candelabras were in place, and the dining room felt warm, cozy, and dimly lit—perfect for the news I intended to share. Soon, I heard the door open. Then came the slow-paced footsteps of the man I had known for two years. My heart climbed into my throat. My hands tightened around my gown. He appeared before me, his hair slightly damp from the rain, his face as handsome as I remembered, carrying that same aura that always made my stomach knot. He stared at me for what felt like an eternity before something shifted in his eyes. “Y-You were outside?” I asked, breaking the awkward silence hanging between us. “Mhm.” He walked closer, the sound of his boots echoing against the marble floor. My gaze drifted to the black bag slung over his shoulder and the way he clutched it as though his life depended on it. I wanted to ask about it. But there was no need. “Yes, um... I prepared dinner.” “Why? The maids could have done that.” I pursed my lips. It wasn't time to tell him yet, but— “I... I need to talk to you.” His eyes dimmed for a moment before he smiled. “Speak.” “I'm pregnant.” The words fell sharply, slicing through the air. My heart slammed against my ribs while the storm raged outside. I noticed the flicker that crossed his face. Something dark. But it disappeared almost instantly. His lips curved into a smile. “You are pregnant?” I nodded. I waited for him to say something else. Nothing. One second passed. Two seconds. Three seconds. The smile vanished. A strange coldness settled in his eyes. Did I say something wrong? My heart dropped into my stomach as pressure built behind my eyes. I lowered my gaze. I expected too much. “Are you lying?” His voice trembled. I looked up. He was smiling widely now, his eyes red. “N-No.” He rushed toward me and suddenly engulfed me in a hug before dropping to his knees. I froze. My hands stopped midair. What was happening? Wasn't he disappointed? He pulled away. “I also have something to tell you. I'm sorry, Natalie. I treated you badly.” His face twisted with what looked like genuine pain. My lips parted, then closed again. The next second, I felt hot tears slide down my cheeks. “I...” My throat tightened. He gently wiped my tears away. I couldn't believe this was happening. “Do you forgive me?” he asked. I blinked away my tears and nodded. More spilled down my face. It was a good thing I had tried to talk to him. He rubbed my stomach softly and smiled. I chuckled too. Then he stood. “Enough,” he said, bringing down the black bag. “I've been saving this bottle for a special occasion. I think tonight is worthy of it.” He smiled. “How about we celebrate?” I smiled brightly. “Of course, my lord.” He poured two goblets of wine and handed one to me. The other he placed before himself. I looked up at him. His dark eyes burned with an intensity that made my skin crawl. “To my heir,” he said. “Our child.” He raised his goblet in a toast. I smiled and downed the wine in one gulp. He smiled back and set his goblet down without taking a sip. The wine tasted fruity, with a strange undertone that lingered on my tongue. I wanted another sip. Instead, my body suddenly felt sluggish. Sleep crashed over me without warning. “You know what, Natalie?” “W-What?” “I never actually got around to telling you that I found my mate.” The words hit me like a slap. My eyes grew heavy as the world tilted. I shifted but nearly fell. He caught me. “Tristan... I think I'm drunk.” The words came out weak, barely above a whisper. “Don't worry,” he murmured. “Sleep well, my love.” My hands reached for his lapels, clutching desperately as I fought the darkness swallowing me whole. But my strength faded. My hands slipped away. “Tristan...” I whispered. The storm drowned out everything. Then darkness consumed me. I didn't know how much time had passed. An hour. A day. Maybe longer. Suddenly, I gasped and opened my eyes. Everything was dark. Cold. And worst of all, I was barely covered. How did I get here? What was happening? I tried to make out my surroundings, but my vision remained blurry and my head throbbed painfully. I attempted to stand. My legs gave way immediately. I crashed onto the floor, scraping my knees against the straw-covered ground. “Where am I?” I whispered. My voice echoed back at me. Then I heard sharp footsteps. Someone stopped outside a set of iron bars. I strained my eyes, trying to see who it was, but they refused to focus. “Come on, sister,” a familiar voice drawled. “Surely you recognize what a dungeon looks like.” That voice. Gloria. My... My sister?