Chapter 45

Lena’s POV

He made sure I would see the pictures.

The realization didn’t hit me all at once. It settled slowly, heavily, like something inevitable.

Marcus hadn’t slipped them out there carelessly. He wanted me to find them. He wanted to see what it would do to me.

It was a message.

And not a subtle one.

I stood near the window, the photographs still in my hands, my fingers gripping them harder than I realized until the edges pressed uncomfortably into my skin.

Marcus knew exactly what those images would stir. He knew who Matthew was to me. And he chose to use it.

Which meant this wasn’t just intimidation.

It was meant to attack me.

My thoughts began moving faster now, piecing things together. I had already humiliated him. I thought I was forcing his hand.

Instead, I might have triggered him.

If I had known he possessed something like this—if I had known he had something against Miu—I would have handled things differently. I would have been more careful with my action. More restrained. More observant. More calculating.

I exhaled slowly, forcing my grip to loosen before I damaged the photographs. Panic would only make me reckless, and reckless was exactly what he wanted.

I have to act before he does.

But not impulsively.

There was a voice outside my door—sharp, urgent.

“But you said she’s fine now. That she’s awake. Then why can’t I see her?”

Miu.

Even through the door, I could hear the strain in her voice. She wasn’t shouting, but she wasn’t backing down either.

“Lady Miu,” Fahlada replied patiently, “Her Majesty has only just regained consciousness. It would be best if—”

“I just need to see her. For a moment.”

Silence followed. I could almost picture Miu standing there, fists clenched at her sides, refusing to move.

My jaw tightened.

Carefully, I crossed back to the bed and slid the photographs into the drawer of my bedside table. I pushed it closed, making sure it shut completely. The last thing I needed was someone else seeing them.

The hallway had gone quiet, waiting for Fahlada’s decision.

“Fahlada,” I called.

My voice carried more steadily than I felt.

The murmuring outside stopped immediately.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” she answered from beyond the door.

“Let her in.”

There was a brief pause—hesitation, perhaps—but then I heard the latch turn.

If Marcus thought this revelation would weaken me, he was mistaken.

Miu slipped inside cautiously, almost as if stepping into unfamiliar territory. The door clicked softly behind her, and a visible sigh of relief escaped her lips.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice low, careful.

I froze, my body stiffening for a moment I couldn’t ignore. All this time, I thought I understood my own caution around her.

Why, from the very beginning, I couldn’t keep my distance. And why I had chosen to trust her despite the gaps in her stories, the secrets she carried.

Something inside me clicked. I realized, with a painful sort of clarity, that I had always felt him in her.

In the curve of her thoughts, the precision in her words, the quiet wisdom in her demeanor. In her very presence, in the way she carried herself, there was a reflection of Matthew.

I had been blinded by grief. Because I had never seen his body. I had never been able to hold him, to say goodbye, to touch the weight of finality.

I had stood at a freshly turned grave, fleeting seconds that burned into my chest, and walked away empty-handed.

“Lena?” Miu’s voice pierced through the storm in my mind, gentle but insistent.

I swallowed the tight lump in my throat and exhaled slowly. “I… feel better,” I said, forcing the words to sound composed. “Thank you for your concern.”

Miu nodded softly, her expression unreadable for a heartbeat before she shifted awkwardly, moving to stand near the door with her hands clasped behind her. The worry in her eyes remained, silent but palpable.

I let the room breathe for a moment, watching her there, before speaking again. “I called you in because… I’m claiming the favor you owe me.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, confusion lacing her gaze. “What is it? Do you need something—”

“Marry me.”

I cut her off, letting the words leave my mouth without second-guessing. 

Her eyes went wide, and she took an instinctive step back. “Are you—out of your mind?” she burst out, a mixture of shock and amusement in her tone.

“No,” I said firmly.

The words hung between us, a taut line of tension that neither of us moved to break.

“W-what has gotten into you to ask for such an absurd thing?” Miu’s voice jumped an octave as her hands flailed, gesturing wildly in exasperation.

I let her words hang, unmoved, though my heart beat faster under the weight of my own certainty.

I need to protect you.

I wanted to say it aloud, to let her hear the truth of why I had spoken those words.

But I did not.

There are still some truths, I knew, were not meant to be known yet.

If she had chosen to hide pieces of herself from me all this time, then I would respect that. I would trust her judgment.

But Marcus—he knew too much. He would strike at any opening, exploit any weakness. I could not allow that to happen.

Not to her. Not when she had been through enough.

“I need an heir,” I said finally, my voice quiet but unshakable. I let the words settle in the air before continuing. “And I want you to give it to me.”

Miu blinked at me, caught somewhere between disbelief and incredulity.

She let out a huff that was equal parts amusement and frustration. “I. Am. A. Woman. And you are too. Are you hearing yourself?”

“I heard myself perfectly,” I replied, the edge of my own wryness slipping through. “Dr. Fahlada and I… we found a way.”

Her brow furrowed as if my words had warped the very air around us. She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.

“Dr. Fahlada,” I called before she could respond further, my tone leaving no room for protest.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Fahlada’s voice came from the doorway the moment it clicked shut behind her.

I gestured toward Miu, my expression firm. “Please explain the IVF study to her.”

Fahlada stepped forward, her posture professional but gentle, the weight of her knowledge carried carefully in her hands.

“Lady Miu,” she began, “Her Majesty speaks of a medical procedure called in vitro fertilization. It allows for conception without sexual intercourse. The Queen’s eggs would be fertilized in your body and then carried to term safely. The method was experimental when first studied, but it has since been refined—it is safe and effective.”

Miu’s jaw slackened slightly. Her wide eyes darted between me and Fahlada, confusion, shock, and a flicker of something unreadable settling over her features.

“You mean…” Miu’s steps faltered as she paced the room, her hands running through her hair, tugging at it slightly as if grounding herself. “…you can get me pregnant?” Her voice wavered, half incredulous, half scared, and her gaze snapped toward me as if searching for a trick, a lie, anything to dismiss what I had just said.

“Yes,” I replied, my tone steady. No hesitation. No fear. Just certainty. “Fahlada has perfected the procedure. It’s safe. You won’t… you won’t be harmed.”

Miu stopped mid-step, head tilted, processing.

“This… this is insane,” Miu stammered, her hands shaking as they clutched the edges of her sleeves.

She took a step back, then another, as though the walls themselves might swallow her whole.

“Why me? Why would you… why would you even think—” Her voice broke, but she pressed on.. “What would the public say of this? It will tarnish your name. I will tarnish your name.”

Her chest heaved, and then she whispered, almost too quiet to hear.

“I’m… tainted… broken.”

My chest tightened, the ache in my heart sharpening at Miu’s words. I couldn’t bear that Miu saw herself that way.

“No… listen to me,” I finally said as she stood, my eyes locked on Miu’s. “Of all people… you are the only one I could ever trust to do this for me. To carry my child. I know… I know you wouldn’t exploit this, not for a second, not for yourself.”

I let my gaze sweep over Miu’s face as I approached her, searching for the doubt I knew lingered there. “You… you’ve only ever wanted what’s best for everyone. You always have. And I… I know that’s all I can ask for. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The words hung between us, heavy with sincerity.

“That’s why… I asked you. Because no one else… could care as much as you do.”

Miu didn’t answer immediately, but the tension in her posture softened, just enough for me to see the faintest trace of understanding—and perhaps, acceptance—beginning to bloom.