The Villainess Has a Baby (And He’s the Father)

Why Him

Seraphina kept her hand pressed against her stomach, her breathing shallow. She stared down at the polished mahogany floorboards, but her mind was miles away, trapped in a spiral of dark, painful memories.

Adrian.

It was a name she had once spoken with a soft blush and a fluttering heart. Now, it tasted like ash on her tongue.

The shock didn't hit her all at once; it came in slow, agonizing waves. Her mind desperately tried to find an alternative, some sort of mistake in her timeline or her calculations. Could it have been someone else? No. She had never let another man touch her. She had been entirely, fiercely loyal to the Crown Prince. Her virtue, her heart, her entire existence had been reserved solely for him.

And this was her reward.

"How can I be carrying his child?" she whispered, her voice trembling as a cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

She closed her eyes, and suddenly she was back in the palace glasshouse on the night of the victory banquet. She remembered the scent of crushed jasmine and expensive wine. She remembered the heavy weight of Adrian’s hands on her waist, his unusual warmth, and the rare, desperate intensity in his golden eyes. For a few brief hours, she had genuinely believed he felt something for her. She had mistaken his political stress and physical impulse for affection.

What a fool I was, she thought bitterly.

The image shifted instantly to the execution square. She saw him sitting on that high, draped balcony. He had looked so detached, so impossibly far away. When the inquisitor read the death sentence, Adrian hadn't even blinked. He hadn't spoken a single word to defend her. He had simply watched the heavy steel blade rise and fall.

A sharp sob escaped Seraphina's lips, and she pulled her knees up to her chest, curling into a tight ball on her bed.

The irony was a cruel, mocking blade twisting in her gut. She had gone back in time to escape her tragic fate, to sever every single tie that bound her to the royal family and the man who doomed her. Yet, before she could even take her first step toward freedom, she discovered that his blood was already mingling with hers. She was tied to her executioner by the most sacred bond in existence.

"Why him?" she choked out, hot tears finally spilling over her eyelashes and soaking into the silk pillowcase. "Of all the people in the empire, why does it have to be his?"

If the palace found out, everything would be over.

Seraphina knew how the imperial court operated. A child carrying the blood of the Crown Prince was not just a baby; it was a political weapon. If Cassandra discovered the pregnancy, she would use every dark magic and poison at her disposal to ensure the child never breathed a word. And if Adrian found out...

Seraphina shuddered violently at the thought. Adrian was a man driven entirely by duty and the laws of the empire. He would take the child away from her, brand her an unfit mother for breaking etiquette, or force her into a suffocating marriage of convenience where she would be trapped under his cold, unforgiving gaze forever. In either scenario, she would lose her baby, or she would die trying to keep him.

The weight of the secret felt like an anvil on her chest. She felt completely trapped, cornered by a future that hadn't even happened yet.

A gentle knock on the door shattered the silence.

"My Lady?" Eleanor’s voice filtered through the wood, cautious and gentle. "I am here to take away the tray. May I enter?"

Seraphina flinched, quickly wiping her face with the sleeve of her nightgown. She swallowed the lump of raw panic in her throat and forced her voice to sound steady. "Give me a moment, Eleanor."

She rushed to the vanity mirror, splashing cold water from the porcelain basin onto her face to hide the redness of her eyes. Looking at her reflection, she saw the sheer terror dancing in her violet eyes. She looked like a hunted animal.

No, she told herself, gripping the edge of the marble sink until her knuckles turned white. I cannot afford to be weak. I cannot let anyone see me break.

She took a deep, centering breath, forcing the panic down into a dark, locked corner of her mind. The shock was still there, a dull, throbbing ache in her chest, but beneath it, her protective maternal instincts began to harden into steel.

She opened the door, allowing Eleanor to step inside to take away the tray. The maid cast a worried look at Seraphina’s pale face but chose not to question her mistress, quietly packing up.

"Thank you, Eleanor. You may leave me for the rest of the day," Seraphina said softly.

Once the door clicked shut again, Seraphina walked over to the window, looking out over the sprawling, manicured gardens of the Valecrest estate. Far in the distance, past the city walls, the high spires of the imperial palace pierced the grey sky like sharp, golden needles.

Adrian was sitting in that palace right now, completely unaware of the storm that was brewing.

Seraphina placed both hands firmly over her stomach. The initial horror and disgust of sharing a bond with him began to melt away, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity.

"He will never know," she whispered to the distant palace, her violet eyes narrowing into a gaze of pure defiance. "You may have taken my life in the past, Adrian. But you will never lay a finger on my child."