The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 312

The Aftermath-2

The public opinion turned swiftly and decisively against the Conti family.

Silviu’s friends abandoned him. His allies distanced themselves. His family’s reputation crumbled like a house of cards.

The trial was swift.

The Council reviewed the evidence, heard the testimony of the Crown Princess and her mate, and delivered a verdict of guilty on all charges.

Silviu Conti was sentenced to long time imprisonment in the royal dungeons, stripped of his titles, his lands, and his status.

The Conti family was ordered to pay restitution to the Crown Princess for the emotional distress caused by their son’s actions. They were placed under probation, their movements and activities monitored for the next decade.

It was a devastating blow.

But Iva took no pleasure in it.

She attended the trial, her hand clasped in Caleb’s, and watched as Silviu was led away in chains. She felt

a pang of something-pity, perhaps, for the broken man who had thrown away everything for an obsession that could never be fulfilled.

Caleb squeezed her hand.

“It’s over,” he said softly.

Iva nodded.

“It’s over.”

She looked out the window at the bright blue sky, feeling the weight of the past months finally lifting.

She was free.

And she was ready to move forward.

The trial had drained every ounce of energy from Iva’s body.

She lay on the chaise lounge in her private chambers, her eyes half-closed, her hand resting limply on her stomach. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting warm golden light across her pale face. She felt like she had been running for miles, like her body had been hollowed out and filled with lead.

Caleb entered the room, his face etched with concern. He had just finished dealing with the final details of the trial-the paperwork, the legal formalities, the endless bureaucratic nonsense that followed a high-profile conviction. He had expected to find Iva resting, maybe reading, maybe already asleep.

1.4

The Aftermath-

Instead, he found her looking like she was about to faint.

A

Iva. He crossed the room in three quick strides, kneeling beside the chaise. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

Iva managed a weak smile.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice hoarse. “That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear.”

Caleb’s expression didn’t soften.

Claum

“I’m serious. You’re pale. You’re exhausted. You’ve barely eaten in days.” He reached out and touched her forehead, checking for fever. “I’m calling the doctor.”

Iva’s hand shot out, catching his wrist.

“No,” she said. “I’m fine. I just need to rest. It’s been a long few weeks.”

“A long few months,” Caleb corrected, his jaw tight. “You’ve been through so much, Iva. The stalker. The trial. The constant pressure. Your body is telling you to slow down, and I’m not going to ignore it.”

Iva sighed, closing her eyes.

“I’ve felt like this before,” she said. “It’s just exhaustion. It will pass.”

Caleb studied her face, his brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to argue, to insist on calling for a healer, but something stopped him.

Something about the way she looked.

The pallor of her skin. The faint shadows under her eyes. The way her hand rested protectively over her stomach.

His mind raced, connecting dots he hadn’t even realized were there.

The fatigue. The nausea she had mentioned but dismissed. The way she had been craving strange foods- pickles with honey, of all things. The way her scent had changed, just slightly, over the past few weeks.

His heart stopped.

*No,* he thought. *It can’t be.*

But even as he denied it, hope began to bloom in his chest.

“Iva,” he said slowly, his voice careful, controlled. “When you say you’ve felt like this before… when exactly?”

Iva opened her eyes, looking at him with confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Caleb’s hands were trembling.

“The fatigue. The nausea. The… the cravings.” He swallowed hard. “Have you been keeping track of your cycles?”

The Afterpa

Iva’s eyes widened.

Claim

She started, then stopped, her hand moving to her stomach. “I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so busy, so stressed, –

She went silent.

Her face went pale.

Then pink.

Then pale again.

“Caleb,” she whispered. “Do you think-my wolf didn’t whispered a thing…”

Before she could finish, a knock sounded at the door.

A servant entered, his expression apologetic.

“Your Highnesses,” he said. “The royal physician is here. He insists on seeing the Crown Princess.”

Iva and Caleb exchanged a look.

“Send him in,” Caleb said, his voice barely steady.

The physician entered-an older wolf with kind eyes and steady hands. He smiled warmly at Iva, his expression professional but gentle.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing.

Iva nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

The physician approached her, his eyes moving over her face, her posture, the way her hand rested on her stomach.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing toward her wrist.

Iva extended her arm, her heart pounding.

The physician pressed his fingers to her pulse, his eyes closing in concentration. The seconds stretched into an eternity. Iva could barely breathe. Caleb stood frozen beside her, his face a mask of controlled anticipation.

Then the physician opened his eyes.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“Well,” he said, his voice warm with barely contained joy. “Congratulations, Your Highness. You are pregnant.”

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