Ten Years of Deep Affection Cannot Defeat the Return of First Love

Phillip didn't keep me. He and Gail went back into the hall.

I took a few steps and stopped. From inside, I heard Gail's confused voice, "What's wrong with Her Highness? Why did she drop the food box? Is it because she heard us playing Go?"

"Of course not." Phillip laughed softly to comfort her, "She's just tired from being pregnant. It's not your fault."

The tender tone he used was the same one he used with me before.

Now through the intricate windows, he spoke so gently to another woman.

Tasha couldn't help but mumble, "His Majesty and that girl are too close."

I said nothing and kept walking. From afar, I heard Gail ask, "Is being pregnant really that tiring?"

Phillip replied, "You'll know when you're pregnant."

Pregnant? With whose child?

My heart broke and was bleeding.

In just a month, the man who once promised me a lifetime together now gently comforted another woman, afraid of hurting her feelings.

What about my feelings?

Could Phillip still see my heart?

Phillip told me to send for him if I needed anything.

When I felt pain and worry, I sent for him once.

But he didn't come. The doctor did.

The doctor took my pulse and asked, "Has Your Highness been overly worried and sleepless lately?"

I nodded slightly.

He continued, "You're near your due date. You mustn't overexert yourself or be too emotional. I'll prescribe some medicine that won't harm the baby. Please take care."

"Thank you, doctor."

I had Tasha escort him out and then asked her, "What was His Majesty doing when you delivered the message?"

Tasha said nothing, just lowering her head.

A wild thought crossed my mind, mixed with panic and anger.

I smashed my cup and demanded, "What did you see? Speak!"

Tasha stammered, "I... I saw His Majesty painting eyebrows for Miss Wood."

My hand slipped from the table. I found it hard to believe.

Painting eyebrows...

Phillip used to paint my eyebrows, stroking my hair and saying, "Jenna, look, we're a perfect match."

I smiled at the mirror and saw his tender expression.

"I'd paint your eyebrows for a lifetime," he said.

But now, as I carried his child, he was painting another woman's eyebrows.

I was heartbroken.

I could hardly breathe and yelled at Tasha, "Quick, send for the doctor."

My pregnancy complications were severe, and Phillip rushed over when he heard.

Seeing me pale and weak, he furiously scolded the maids, "Is this how you care for the Empress? If anything happens to her, you'll all pay with your lives!"

The maids were terrified and silent.

Phillip turned to Tasha, trembling. "What happened to her? Tell me!"

"Her Highness..." Tasha stammered, too scared to speak.

"What happened?" Phillip's anger was palpable, and the air was tense.

Tasha, in tears, sobbed, "Her Highness asked what you were doing, and I told her that you were painting Miss Wood's eyebrows."

Phillip's anger faltered. He rushed to my side, touching my face. "Jenna, did this upset you?"

I said nothing, gripping the quilt. Tears streamed down my face.

"Jenna, don't cry," he murmured, kissing my tears away. "You misunderstood. She was trying out a new eyebrow pencil and asked me to test it."

"Don't cry, it pains me," he said, rubbing his face against mine. "Nothing is going on between us. Don't overthink it."

I still didn't respond, just kept crying.

Phillip, helpless, turned to Tasha and shouted, "How dare you spread rumors?"

His anger peaked. "Guards! Take her out and execute her."

"No, please, Your Majesty, spare me," Tasha pleaded.

I finally spoke, begging him. "Your Majesty, I'm used to having Tasha. Please spare her."

Phillip gently stroked my face, "As you wish, I'll spare her this once."

He then sternly warned the maids, "No more gossip, or I'll cut off your tongues."

After comforting me, he kissed me again and left.

I asked the system, "Do you believe Phillip?"

The system's electronic voice buzzed. "My belief doesn't matter. Do you believe him?"

Me?

I didn't.

Since he brought back Gail, I didn't believe him.

He never liked other women getting close to him.

Yet he played chess with her, comforted her, painted her eyebrows.

He used to be so attentive only toward me.

How could I believe it?