Chapter 156: Chapter 156 The Price Of Silence
Perry’s POV
Marcela shifted uncomfortably before me. Even after countless conversations, my presence still unnerved her.
The healer launched into details about her recent talk with Phoebe regarding fertility concerns.
"She asked me to teach her the fertility remedy." Marcela’s voice carried an apologetic edge, clearly troubled by the situation.
"I tried explaining she couldn’t begin yet, but I doubt my excuse will satisfy her much longer." She revealed the reasoning she’d given.
"What exactly did you tell her?" My jaw tightened. "Did you drop any hints about her actual condition?"
"Absolutely not, my king. That’s precisely why I’m here—Lady Phoebe brought it up again recently."
Marcela steeled herself before continuing. "I believe you should be honest with her. The pain will be worse if she discovers you’ve been deceiving her."
I understood that completely. Lies weren’t how I wanted to rebuild what we had. We’d gotten a second chance, and I couldn’t poison it with deception that might destroy us entirely.
We might not survive another fracture.
But how could I possibly reveal this truth? The weight of it crushed me—it would devastate her even more.
I could already picture how it would shatter her, and what if she withdrew from me again?
"Give me time to consider this," I said finally. "Meanwhile, keep quiet. Don’t hint at anything or give her clues about what’s happening. Let her enjoy the ceremony."
Marcela bowed her head. "Of course, my king."
After she left, I remained in the war room until dawn broke, unable to face lying beside her, meeting her eyes when I knew what she yearned for.
A family.
That’s what I craved too. Our own little family. Children with her features, or mine.
We shared the same dream, but at what price?
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to crush her heart.
*[You didn’t return last night.]* Phoebe slipped a note into my view as we dined with the elders and other kingdom dignitaries.
"Plenty of arrangements needed handling so you can have a perfect ceremony day. How are the preparations going?"
Phoebe wrinkled her nose—disliking the fuss but secretly savoring it. She’d never had a celebration thrown specifically for her.
Wearing an exquisite gown with everyone’s respectful attention focused on her. Not even in her wildest fantasies had she imagined reaching this point.
Two years ago, trapped under Kevin’s control, if someone had predicted she’d have her special day as this kingdom’s queen, Phoebe would never have believed them.
The idea of finally having her moment seemed absolutely impossible then.
"I’ll join your dance practice later—does that sound good?"
Phoebe’s face brightened as she nodded, then returned to her meal.
"Can you detect any flavors?" I wondered how she managed to eat normally without tasting anything.
*[No, but I’ve accepted it. It doesn’t trouble me anymore. You don’t need to worry about it either.]*
I pressed my lips to her temple.
One truth I couldn’t escape, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it: I had broken her.
She’d come to me, lost her taste, and now her voice too. Beyond that, I was responsible for shattering our dream of having a family.
Without the miscarriage, Phoebe’s body might not have weakened to the point where carrying a child became impossible.
But it was because of me. I’d created this impossible situation.
Eventually, the issue would extend beyond just having children. The elders would grow restless if Phoebe remained childless after we’d been together for some time.
I might hold them off for a year or two, but after that, Phoebe would start questioning herself as well.
——
Phoebe’s POV
That afternoon, Perry made another small sacrifice for me—not the first, and certainly not the last.
"Don’t worry, you’re not that heavy," he said as I stepped on his foot again for... honestly, I’d lost count.
I felt completely frustrated with myself, frowning as I tried concentrating on my footwork.
"Excellent progress, my lady," Jocelyn encouraged. She served as my dance instructor since custom demanded the king and I lead the opening dance.
She was stunning—blonde hair and blue eyes, though not as vivid as Perry’s, hers leaning more toward green.
The ceremony was two weeks away, and I’d only managed proper dancing about a week ago.
Three weeks of total lessons, and I still couldn’t grasp how to do this correctly.
If this were medical training, I’d have mastered it by now, but why was controlling my body’s movement so difficult?
Once more, I crushed Perry’s foot. I stepped back, clearly annoyed with myself.
When Jocelyn started to speak, Perry raised his hand, silencing her. He approached me and gently lifted my body.
"If you’re going to step on feet constantly, why not do it intentionally from the start?" He gripped my waist, letting me stand on his feet as he moved.
This way, I didn’t need to do anything at all.
