Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 204 - Two Hundred And Four

The room was still, but the air was heavy with the echo of Ashlyn’s scream. Carlos stood there, the pillow she had thrown clutched in his hand like a shield. He lowered it slowly, tossing it onto the bed.

He moved quickly, closing the distance between them before she could grab anything else. He caught her hands in his, gripping them tight.

"I’m sorry, my love," Carlos whispered. His voice was frantic, desperate. "We can always have another child. Don’t be disheartened."

Ashlyn struggled against his grip. She pulled, she twisted, she tried to scratch him. But her strength was gone. The blood loss, the shock, the grief—it had drained her. After a few moments of furious fighting, her body went limp. Her hands slumped to her side, surrendering to his hold.

Carlos pulled her closer, his eyes darting to the door, ensuring it was still locked.

"No one must know about your miscarriage," Carlos spoke, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hiss.

Ashlyn glared at him. Her eyes were red, swollen, and filled with a hate so pure it burned.

"This is all your fault," she spat. "You pushed me. You killed him."

"Listen to me!" Carlos shook her slightly, forcing her to look at him. "I have been banished from the estate. I am an exile. If they discover your miscarriage... if they find out there is no child... we will have no foothold in this estate anymore. We will be nothing."

He leaned in, his face inches from hers.

"What will we do in the future?" he asked. "Where will we go? To the mines? To the streets? Or do you think you would stay here for long? Sooner or later you will be thrown out too."

Ashlyn continued to glare at him, but her mind was working. Through the haze of her grief, a cold, hard logic began to emerge.

She remembered Beatrice. Since the announcement of the pregnancy, the Dowager had been protective. She had sent guards. She had sent food. She had even stopped Marissa from touching her, creating a wall of safety around Ashlyn that she hadn’t had before.

"If Beatrice finds out," Ashlyn thought, a chill running through her, "she will cast me out. She will send me to join Carlos in exile. Or worse."

"And Marissa..." Ashlyn shuddered. "If Marissa finds out I am empty... she will destroy me. My security is gone. My shield is gone."

Ashlyn whimpered. It was a sound of pure, terrified realization. She was trapped in a lie she had to maintain, even though the truth was dead inside her.

Carlos saw her resolve waver. He hugged her, pulling her stiff body against his chest.

"Don’t worry," he soothed, stroking her hair. "You will conceive again. We will make another one. Stronger one."

In her grief, Ashlyn spoke. The words tumbled out before she could stop them, fueled by the unfairness of it all. She forgot she was in Carlos’s arms. She forgot where she was.

"I’m living a second life," Ashlyn murmured, her voice hollow. "I came back. I changed everything. Why does fate still treat me this way?"

She broke the hug violently. She pushed him back and looked at him with angry, accusing eyes.

"Why are you different from my last life?" she demanded.

She grabbed the lapels of his dirty coat and shook him.

"Last time," she cried, "you were clearly the Commander! You were strong! You were respected! You took the title from Derek!"

Carlos froze. He stared at her. He thought she was speaking out of grief, hallucinating from the pain. But there was something in her eyes—a terrifying certainty—that made his blood run cold.

"Have you lost it?" Carlos asked, his voice trembling. "Ashlyn, what are you saying?"

His eyes searched hers for danger signs, wondering if he needed to abandon her right now, before she started screaming madness to the servants.

"What last time?" he asked carefully.

Ashlyn didn’t hear the fear in his voice. She only heard her own memories, the life she had thrown away.

"You really did become the Commander!" she insisted, tears streaming down her face again. "You were brilliant! You even became Prince Liam’s trusted man! His right hand!"

She hit Carlos in the chest with her fist. Thump.

"The Herald came to inform you of your coronation as Grand Duke!" she sobbed. "I saw it! I was there! Why is it different now? Why are you a failure?"

Carlos caught her hand. He held it still against his chest. His mind was racing. Prince Liam. Commander. Grand Duke.

He looked at her.

"Ashlyn," he said slowly, his voice intense. "What you say... is it true?"

Ashlyn nodded, her head bobbing like a broken doll. "Yes. Yes, it was true."

Carlos stared at her. He didn’t understand the "second life" part—that was madness—but the rest... the rest sounded like a plan he hadn’t thought of.

"Prince Liam," Carlos thought.

He remembered the Prince. The man who was always watching Derek. The man who had been at odds with the Thompson’s brothers since childhood.

"If she is right," Carlos reasoned, "if I was his trusted man... then maybe that is the missing piece. Maybe I didn’t fail because I am weak. Maybe I failed because I didn’t have the right ally."

A wide, greedy smile spread across Carlos’s face. An idea was forming in his head, sharp and clear.

He hugged Ashlyn again, tighter this time. He was pacifying her, shushing her cries, but his mind was already miles away, plotting.

"Prince Liam," He thought to himself, staring over Ashlyn’s shoulder at the dark window.

"If I can just connect with him," he thought. "If I can offer him something he wants... maybe I can still win. Maybe I can still be the Commander."

He stroked Ashlyn’s back.

"Hush now," he whispered. "You are just tired. Sleep. We will fix this."

But as he held his grieving wife, Carlos wasn’t thinking about a baby. He was thinking about Prince Liam, and how to get him on his side.