The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1218

Newell ran a hand through his hair, frustration and worry twisting together until he barely knew which weighed heavier. Worry, definitely. He could feel it in his bones.

“I know.”

Charlotte’s lips pressed into a thin line, her face more serious than usual. “So now what? Am I supposed to just not have the baby?”

Newell couldn’t find the words. He just stared at her, lost.

He finally managed, “You still have that gene mutation. If it’s a girl, she could inherit it. And you know pregnancy isn’t exactly a walk in the park for you. There could be a hundred complications. Are you really ready for that?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Charlotte said. She laid her palm over her stomach, a small, stubborn smile flickering as she lowered her voice. “If this baby makes it through with me, that’s fate. If not, well... I’ll go with it. Either way, I’m not alone. Doesn’t seem like a bad deal.”

Newell stared, stunned. He bit back his anger and tried to keep his voice steady. “Does Anthony know about this?”

Charlotte’s fingers curled tight, but she answered honestly. “I’ll tell him once I have the bracelet. There’s still time.”

“And if you don’t get the bracelet?” Newell’s question was sharp.

Charlotte glanced up, meeting his gaze with that cool, unflinching look of hers. She licked her lips, almost defiant. “Then I’m betting Dr. David comes through with a cure. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

And if she lost that gamble...

Newell pressed his lips together. “Get ready. We’re leaving for the Isle of Veil at dawn.” His tone was quiet but firm. “As for that frail little problem, if I say I’ll catch him, I will.”

“Alright,” Charlotte replied. She believed him, or at least she wanted to, so she didn’t argue.

She was almost out the door when Newell called after her, “Be careful!”

“...Okay.” Her answer was soft, almost like a kid getting scolded. Even the way she walked changed, her steps lighter and more careful.

When she was gone, Newell pressed his fingers to his temples and shook his head. He just couldn’t picture Charlotte as a mom. The idea seemed almost unreal.

“Someone, come in.”

A member of DM greeted them with a respectful nod. “Chief Patriarch. The task is done.”

Charlotte pushed open the door. There, tied up with a black cloth over his eyes, was Mr. Churchill. He looked disheveled, almost pitiful. For a moment, Charlotte didn’t know what to feel.

She walked in and stood in front of him. Without hesitation, she pulled off the blindfold.

“Wow, you really do look sickly,” Charlotte said with a cool, amused smile. “Nice job.”

The sudden glare of light made Mr. Churchill flinch, then squint up at her.

“You—” he started, trying to gather himself, but Charlotte had already snatched the watch off his wrist.

Before he could say another word, someone gagged him again.

Charlotte barely glanced at him. She handed the watch to Adonis, her tone flat. “Take this to Damaris.”