Rejected by My Fiancé, I Accidentally Carried His Mother's Heir (GL)

The maid who heard the conversation immediately went to Arisia’s wing, her feet carried her through the winding corridors of the Arthion manor with desperate urgency.

Her heart pounded against her ribs like a caged bird, and her hands trembled so violently that she had to press them against her skirts to keep them still. She had heard something she should not have heard, something that could destroy the family she served, and something that could cost her her life if she was not careful.

But she could not keep it to herself. She could not bear the weight of such a secret alone.

She passed servants and guards along the way, their faces were familiar but their eyes were curious as they watched her hurry past with such obvious distress. She did not acknowledge them because she could not afford to.

If she stopped, if she spoke to anyone, she might lose her nerve, might convince herself that silence was the safer choice. But silence was not an option. Not with something this important.

She reached Arisia’s bedchamber and did not bother to knock, pushing the door open and slipping inside before anyone could see her. The room was elegant as always, decorated in shades of deep burgundy and cream, with heavy velvet curtains that blocked out the morning light and cast everything in a warm, dim glow.

The scent of roses and sandalwood hung in the air, a fragrance that was uniquely Arisia’s, and the polished mahogany furniture gleamed in the candlelight that flickered from a dozen ornate holders scattered around the room.

Arisia was seated at her vanity, a silver brush in her hand, her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. She was in the middle of her morning routine, her movements were slow and measured as she ran the brush through her locks with practiced strokes.

She wore a dressing gown of pale cream silk that matched the curtains, and her feet were bare against the plush carpet, her toes are curling slightly against the soft fibers.

The moment the maid entered, Arisia’s eyes snapped up and turned to fixed on the intruder with an intensity that made the servant’s blood run cold. The brush paused mid-stroke, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

Without a word, the maid crossed the room and fell to her knees in front of Arisia, her forehead was nearly touching the floor. Her entire body was trembling, and she could not seem to stop it, no matter how hard she tried to compose herself. She pressed her hands flat against the carpet, trying to steady herself, but the tremors continued unabated.

”Speak,” Arisia commanded, her voice was firm and clear, carrying the absolute authority of a noble who expected to be obeyed without question. ”I am losing my patience with all your trembling like a fool. You burst into my chambers unannounced, looking as though you have seen a ghost, and now you kneel there shaking like a leaf in a storm. Out with it. What is so urgent that you could not wait for me to summon you?”

The maid swallowed hard, her throat became dry and tight. She had served the Arthion family for years, had learned to navigate the complicated web of politics and personalities that existed within these walls, but she had never been more terrified than she was in this moment.

Lady Arisia was known for her sharp tongue and her unforgiving nature, and the maid knew that if she misspoke, if she said the wrong thing, the consequences would be severe. There were rumors among the servants about what happened to those who displeased Lady Arisia—whispers of dismissals without references, of being blacklisted from every noble household in the kingdom, of worse fates that no one dared to speak aloud.

But she had come too far to turn back now.

”My lady,” she began, her voice was quivering despite her best efforts to steady it. ”I was going to bring breakfast to Lordess Arielle’s room, as I was instructed. I had the tray prepared and I was on my way, but when I reached the door, I heard voices. Lordess Arielle and Lady Eiravelle were talking, and I—I stopped to listen. I know I should not have, I know it was wrong, but I could not help myself. The door was slightly ajar, and their voices carried, and before I knew what I was doing, I was standing there, listening to every word.”

Arisia’s eyes narrowed, her grip on the silver brush tightened. The knuckles of her fingers turned white against the polished handle, and a muscle twitched in her jaw. ”And what exactly did you hear that was so important you felt the need to interrupt my morning routine and prostrate yourself at my feet like a common criminal? I do not have the patience for dramatics today, so I suggest you get to the point.”

The maid’s breath hitched. She had to say it. There was no turning back now. The words were lodged in her throat like stones, heavy and immovable, but she forced them out, each syllable was feeling like a shard of glass.

”Lady... E-Eiravelle...” She paused, her voice was catching. ”S-She... She’s pregnant.”

The moment the words left her lips, the room fell into absolute silence. Arisia froze, her entire body was going rigid as if she had been struck by lightning. The silver brush slipped from her fingers and clattered against the vanity, the sound echoed through the stillness like a gunshot and her breath was caught in her throat, a gasp escaped her mouth—a small, sharp sound that betrayed the shock she was trying so desperately to conceal.

For a long moment, Arisia did not move. She did not speak. She simply sat there, staring at the maid with wide eyes, her mind was racing to process what she had just heard. Eiravelle was pregnant. Her little sister, the youngest of the Arthion children, the one who had always been the jinx, was pregnant out of wedlock.

The scandal of it. The shame. The utter, complete devastation of everything their family had worked so hard to build.

Images flashed through Arisia’s mind in rapid succession—her mother’s face would be twisted with fury, her father’s expression of cold disappointment, the whispers of the people as word spread like wildfire.

The Arthion family had already weathered its share of gossip. They had already endured the sideways glances and the whispered comments. But this? This was different. This was the kind of scandal that could not be brushed aside or hidden behind closed doors. This was the kind of scandal that would follow them for generations.

”That’s what I heard,” the maid continued, her voice was trembling. ”Lady Eiravelle confessed everything. She said she did not know who the alpha was, that it was a stranger, that she had asked the alpha to take her purity because she was desperate.”

Arisia’s hands clenched into fists, her nails are digging into her palms hard enough to draw blood. Desperate? She thought, the word burned through her mind like acid. She was desperate? What reason could she possibly have to be desperate? She is a lady of House Arthion, the daughter of a respected noble family. She has wealth, privilege, every advantage a young omega could ask for. What could she possibly need so badly that she would throw away her purity, her reputation, her future?

The maid continued, oblivious to the storm raging inside Arisia’s mind. ”Lordess Arielle said she would not tell anyone and all I could think about was coming back here and telling you because I knew you need to know.”

Arisia’s jaw clenched so tightly that she could hear her teeth grinding together. The sound was loud in the silence, a harsh grinding that matched the chaos erupting inside her chest. She was furious, she was humiliated, and she was exhausted.

Eiravelle had always been the family’s greatest burden, the one who could never seem to do anything right. She was too soft, too trusting, too naive to survive in the world of politics and power that the Arthion family inhabited.

And now this—this final, unforgivable act that would destroy everything.

”Are you certain about this?” Arisia demanded, her voice was low and dangerous, carrying a warning that the maid would be wise to heed. ”If you’re speaking false information, if you are mistaken or if you are lying to me for some reason of your own, then I shall have your head. I will have you executed for slander and for wasting my time. Do you understand me?”

The maid nodded frantically, her forehead was scraping against the floor as she bowed even lower. Her entire body was shaking so violently that she could barely form words. ”Yes, my lady. I am certain. I could never be wrong about something like this. I heard it with my own ears. Lady Eiravelle admitted it herself.”

Arisia drew in a slow, shaky breath, trying to regain control of her emotions. She could feel the rage building inside her, hot and volatile, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Eiravelle had already caused so much trouble, she had already brought so much shame to their family with her soft heart and her foolish choices. And now this—this final, unforgivable act that would destroy everything.

”You’re dismissed,” Arisia said abruptly, her voice was cold and hard as winter ice. ”If you tell anyone about this, if I so much as suspect that you have breathed a word of what you heard to another living soul, I’ll rip your tongue out myself. Do you understand?”

The maid nodded so quickly that her head almost bounced off the floor. ”Yes, my lady. I understand. I will not tell anyone. I swear it on my life. I will take this secret to my grave.”

”Then get out of my sight.”

The maid scrambled to her feet and fled the room, her footsteps were echoing down the corridor as she ran. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Arisia alone in the quiet of her bedchamber.

For a long moment, she simply sat there, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, her expression was a mask of barely contained fury, she had known, on some level, that Eiravelle was always heading for disaster.

”This is bad,” Arisia muttered to herself, her voice was barely above a whisper. She ground her teeth subtly, trying to release the tension through her jaw, but it’s not working. The stress was already coiling in her chest like a serpent, tightening its grip with every passing second. ”This is really, really bad.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to stave off the headache that was already beginning to form. Eiravelle had caused so many mistakes, so many disgraceful acts, and clearly, this was the final act of disgrace she would bring to this family.