When Drakon saw the King arrive with the royal healer, his expression darkened instantly.

"Do I look like a sick man?" he demanded.

The healer trembled. He glanced at the King.

King Theron frowned and waved his hand. "Examine the Crown Princess first."

They were avoiding the real issue. If Vania was found to be ill, the dragon palace would save face. But if the problem was Drakon...

I wondered how they would handle that.

Drakon's eyes met mine. His gaze was dark and stormy, filled with endless fury.

"Seraphina," he hissed. "You came to mock me? What, you think because you married my brother you can produce a golden dragon?"

He stepped closer. "Do not forget. My brother is only a Silver dragon. You may be Royal Gold, but I know exactly what kind of creature you are. You will never give birth to a golden dragon."

He was so certain.

Lysander moved to shield me. He raised one eyebrow. "Brother, why not let the healer do his work first?"

Vania looked reluctant, but she could not refuse the King and the Crown Prince. She held out her wrist.

Drakon snorted. "Healer, you had better be thorough."

His face was full of confidence.

With the memories of his past life, he knew Vania's body was not the problem.

The healer knelt, trembling, and carefully pressed his fingers to Vania's pulse.

Vania gripped her handkerchief tightly. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She was terrified that something was wrong with her.

"Your Majesty, Crown Prince," the healer finally said, "the Crown Princess is healthy. She has some hormonal imbalances from stress, but nothing more."

Vania let out a visible sigh of relief.

Drakon shot me a smug look. "You see, Father? Since Vania is healthy, just give us time to rest and recover. We will surely produce a pure Royal Gold heir and bring glory to the dragon palace."

Vania curtsied. "I will do my utmost, Your Majesty."

King Theron laughed heartily. "Good! I will wait for your good news."

I sighed softly.

Examine the healthy one. Ignore the sick one.

I would wait and see where their pure golden dragon came from.

The King left. Lysander and I turned to go, but Drakon blocked our path.

"You truly thought bringing a healer here would embarrass me?" he sneered. "Seraphina, you are as despicable as ever."

I smiled calmly.

The Crown Prince of the dragon realm cannot father children. Is that not a joke?

"Carrying some bastard in your belly," he went on, "and you act as if you have accomplished something."

Lysander's eyes turned cold. "Brother, watch your tongue. The child in Seraphina's belly is dragon royal blood."

Drakon shook his sleeves in fury. "I will wait and see what kind of creature you spawn."

"My child is none of your concern," Lysander replied coldly.

He took my arm and led me back to our chambers.

With the child growing inside me, Lysander became even more attentive. He treated me with the utmost care, afraid I might bump into anything or hurt myself.

Natural pregnancy was nothing like the Blood Rite. In my past life, the Rite had drained my life force. My body had withered away. Toward the end, I could not even leave my bed.

Now, despite the morning sickness, I grew stronger and healthier.

Several more months passed. Still no news from the Crown Prince's chambers.

Finally, the King could wait no longer. He ordered the healer to examine the Crown Prince.

Drakon sat with a dark expression on his face. "Healer," he said in a low voice, "you had better examine me carefully."

He still refused to believe the problem was his.

In the past life, he had never learned that I used the Blood Rite to give him a child. He was certain of his own fertility.

The healer's face went pale. His hands trembled as he reached for the Crown Prince's wrist.

At last. The truth was finally about to be revealed.