The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 537: A death sentence... with triplets

A warmth that had nothing to do with the Igniva fire spread through Eris’s chest.

These people had stayed. They had waited.

Mira, fueled by relief, went into a flurry of activity... straightening the blankets, checking the cup, fussing over Eris’s pillows.

The words tumbled out of her in a stream. "You need to eat something real, Your Majesty, not just the herbs. And sleep more. And not move too quickly. You must be more careful, Your Majesty. Especially now."

Mira tucked the corner of the sheet with a sharp, decisive snap. "Especially now that you’re carrying a child."

The room didn’t just go silent. It ceased to exist.

Everything stopped. The sound of the wind outside, the crackle of the candles, the rhythm of Eris’s own breathing.

Mira’s hands went still, her own words finally catching up to her. Her face went through a dozen shades of pale as she realized she had just dropped a mountain into a small room.

Eris didn’t move. The cup was still in her hands, the tasteless liquid cooling against her palms. Her mind was a blank slate, a processing failure.

"Say that again," Eris whispered.

"I—" Mira stammered, "Your Majesty—"

"Mira," Eris’s voice was quiet, the kind of quiet that made Aldric and Ryse take a step back. "Say it again."

"You’re... carrying a child," Mira whispered.

"She seems surprised." Aldric turned sharply to Aldwin. "Why didn’t you tell her?"

"I could not find the right moment," Aldwin said, entirely unbothered by the chaos he had facilitated.

Inside Eris, the shutdown began. No. That was the first thought. That is not possible. The second. The potions. Every day. Without exception. She had been meticulous. She was the one who controlled the logistics. She was the one who ensured there were no variables.

And yet.

The memory of Pyronox’s realm surged forward. Three small dragons, their ice-pale scales, their blue eyes. The dark-scaled one, the color of Pyronox but warmer. The other two, frost-pale. His cold. His.

The "wicked thought" she had suffocated in the realm wasn’t a guess. It was a memory.

"How?" Eris asked, her voice flat, turning her gaze to Aldwin. "How did you determine this?"

"When I examined you, I felt an additional heartbeat," Aldwin said simply. "Beyond your own, and beyond the other presence within you."

Eris stared at him. She thought of the three dragons. "How many?"

Aldwin looked at her, the question catching him off guard. "One. Why do you ask?"

"Conduct more tests," Eris ordered. "Now."

Aldwin didn’t argue. He saw the something behind her eyes... a terrifying, lucid certainty. He placed his hands over her again, hovering, listening.

This time, he didn’t look for the obvious. He looked deeper, navigating the wreckage of her core and the roaring shadow of the dragon.

His expression changed. The mild certainty faded. His hands stilled, and a look of genuine, academic shock crossed his face. The room watched him, reading the shift in the air.

"I appear to have been mistaken," Aldwin said slowly.

Aldric and Ryse both exhaled, a visible wave of relief washing over them. They assumed the obvious—that it was a false alarm. Mira’s hand went to her mouth. "She’s not—"

"No," Aldwin stopped them. He looked at Eris, his voice carried by a slow, burgeoning realization. "I was mistaken in the count."

He paused, a long, heavy silence that felt like the world tilting on its axis.

"There are two additional heartbeats. Making three. New. Within her."

This silence was different. It wasn’t shock; it was the collective sound of four minds hitting a wall they couldn’t climb.

"Do you mean—" Aldric started.

"Is Her Majesty really—" Ryse tried.

"Pregnant," Mira finished, her voice trembling with a strange, frantic awe. "With triplets."

"Yes," Aldwin confirmed.

Eris didn’t look at them. She looked at a point on the wall just above the foot of the bed. She was technically present, but spiritually, she was miles away, standing in a silver field with three small creatures.

Three.

The arithmetic was a death sentence.

I am going to kill Soren, she thought with a cold, detached clarity. It’s his fault, I’m going to annihilate him.

Miles away, despite being the embodiment of winter itself, Soren felt a cold chill run down his spine at the mention of his name with evil intent miles away.

What the hell? He thought, unaware his very wife was already plotting his murder miles across the empire.

Back at the capital, Eris’s thoughts continued.

I am dying. She thought again. My seal is cracking. My core is failing. I am carrying a dragon god. And now... three.

The terror wasn’t the children. It was the math. She was a woman running out of time, and she had just been given three more reasons why she couldn’t afford to die. The terror was the thought that she might never even meet them.

"This is cause for celebration!" Mira cried, unable to contain herself. "Three children, Your Majesty! Three—"

"Where is Kristina?" Eris interrupted. Her voice was flat, like a blade.

"She’s with Duchess Maren," Mira said, stumbling. "They’re coordinating the aid distribution in the outer districts—"

"Fetch her," Eris ordered. "Now."

Mira didn’t ask questions. She saw the look in Eris’s eyes—it wasn’t joy, and it wasn’t even shock. It was the look of a general realized she was surrounded on all sides. Mira vanished from the room.

Ryse leaned toward Aldric, his voice a low murmur. "She doesn’t seem happy."

"She’s overwhelmed," Aldric whispered back. "That’s why."

But Eris wasn’t overwhelmed. She was terrified. She sat in the bed, the cup of tasteless herbs going cold in her hands, her body carrying three impossible heartbeats. She had planned her life with meticulous care since the moment she had been given it back, and the universe had just shredded the map.

Her only thought, the one that beat louder than the three new ones, was: What if I don’t make it long enough to even meet them?