"Remi, you too. Your health is the foundation of everything. If I catch you looking even slightly under the weather, I’ll personally brew you the most bitter herbal concoction on the planet."

Damian shot her a sharp, warning glare.

Remi shrank back, giggling nervously. "Understood, doctor! Can’t you see? I’m plump and rosy, aren't I?"

"That’s true! Keep it that way."

"Yes, sir!" Remi gave him a playful, mock salute.

Once Damian left, Remi drove Evangeline straight to Alexander Corp.

"Remi, I’m leaving the firm in your and the senior partner's hands for a while," Evangeline said, her mood a little dampened by her forced hiatus.

"Just focus on resting and being happy, got it?" Remi reached over to nudge the corners of Evangeline's drooping mouth upward.

"Fine. I’ll be the best damn mascot the company has ever had."

Seeing Evangeline manage a smile, Remi finally felt at ease. "Go on, head up there."

"Right. Bye, drive safe."

They parted ways, and Evangeline walked into the Alexander Corp headquarters with hesitant, stuttering steps. She had spent the entire drive racking her brain for a valid excuse for her recent health scare, but nothing came to mind. She’d just have to brace herself for a lecture and then surrender to a long period of mandatory recovery.

She crawled toward the office door at a snail’s pace, dithering, when the door suddenly swung open. Preston stepped out.

"Mrs. Alexander? Is there a reason you’re standing outside?"

Evangeline offered an awkward, sheepish smile. "I’m just heading in."

The moment she pushed the door open, she was met with a gaze so piercing it made her spine turn to ice.

"Well… Marcellus, I’m here."

"I heard someone was hospitalized for malnutrition?"

The venom in his tone made her feel like a cat was batting at her heart, leaving her skin prickling.

"I’m resting now, aren't I? Please, don't be mad." She sat on his lap, nuzzling against his chest in a desperate bid to soothe him.

She looked so fragile and obedient that it made his heart ache. He wanted to hold her tightly, but he didn't dare. Damian had told him her bone density was currently abysmal—she was essentially a porcelain doll. He was furious that she hadn't taken care of herself, but even more furious at himself for failing to protect her.

Marcellus let out a long, weary sigh, his anger dissolving. He lifted a hand to stroke her hair. "Focus on your recovery. Put the company business on hold. If you’re that worried, I’ll send my own team to help you."

Evangeline looked up, her expression uncharacteristically earnest. "No. The core of our partnership is trust. If I start shuffling people into the office just because I can't be there, my partner won't be happy."

"You care that much about his opinion?"

"Of course! We are partners in every sense of the word."

"Evangeline, do you know how much it hurts me to hear you say that?"

"I trust you to understand my meaning."

Evangeline held his gaze, her expression steady and unblinking.

"Hmph. With a look like that, if I keep getting angry, it’ll just make me look like I’m being unreasonable."

"As long as you understand me, that’s all that matters. And even if you want to be unreasonable, that’s fine—I don't mind coaxing you."

Her words turned his resolve into water. He couldn't resist pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Once Damian sent over the prescription, Marcellus had the kitchen staff prepare everything immediately. By the time they returned to Elysian Estate, the house was thick with the heavy, pungent scent of herbal medicine.

Evangeline’s nose crinkled the second they walked in. "What is that smell? It’s... so 'fragrant'."

Marcellus shot her a look, and the word "bitter" died instantly in her throat.

"Young Mistress, you’re home! The medicine is ready—just let it cool for a second." Helen, the housekeeper, looked at her with profound guilt. In this day and age, how could the lady of the house suffer from malnutrition? "It’s my fault. I haven't taken good care of you."

Helen’s eyes welled with tears. Evangeline hurriedly grabbed a tissue to dab them away. "Helen, this is my own fault. Please, I need you to work your magic and help me get nice and plump again."

Hearing this, Helen straightened up, her spirit instantly renewed. She thumped her chest in a promise. "Leave it to me. I’ll make sure you get a different, delicious meal every single day."

Evangeline smiled. "Thank you."

"Alright, the medicine is cool enough now."

While they had been talking, Marcellus hadn't stopped stirring the bowl to bring the temperature down. He was desperate for her to finish it so she could get better that much faster.

Evangeline looked at the thick, black liquid, frowned, and without further hesitation, downed it in one go.

"My girl, you’re amazing."

"Are you talking to me like I’m a toddler?"

"I just didn't expect you to drink it so readily."

"Well, I have to, don't I? If I kick the bucket, what would you do?"

"Don't you dare say that!" Marcellus snapped, his voice sharp with terror. Evangeline just giggled, offering a submissive nod. "Understood."

For the next month, she was treated like a national treasure. Before she could even make it downstairs, Helen would arrive with a tray. Every meal was a variation of slow-cooked, nutrient-rich food paired with her medicine. In just a short time, the color had returned to her cheeks. She grew lazy, preferring to lie down if she could sit, and sit if she could stand.

When she finally stepped on the scale, her jaw hit the floor.

"Sixteen pounds!"

Marcellus walked in to find her standing there, frozen in shock. "What’s wrong?"

"I’ve gained sixteen pounds!"

She repeated it, still unable to wrap her head around the number. Marcellus scanned her face and figure, nodding in satisfaction. "You look much more spirited. Let’s head to the hospital this afternoon for a check-up to see how much you’ve recovered."

"Yes, let's."

Evangeline was just as eager; she felt like she’d been sedentary for so long she was starting to grow moss.

They had given Damian a heads-up, so they were ushered through the VIP access at the hospital. Everything went smoothly, and the results were ready in no time. They waited in Damian’s office for the report to be delivered.

Damian took the file, flipped through it, and let out a soft, mocking huff. "I have some good news and some news that might be good, depending on how you look at it."

"What does that mean?" Marcellus’s face was cold; he wasn't in the mood for Damian's theatrics.

"The good news is that Evangeline’s vitals are back to normal."

"And the other?"

"She’s pregnant."

"What?!"

Evangeline surged to her feet, breathless, while Marcellus’s expression turned dark and stormy.

Damian blinked, confused by their lack of celebration. "Do you guys not want the baby?"

Marcellus looked at the woman still reeling from the shock, his heart sinking. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Damian was stunned—he was actually apologizing!

"Huh?" Evangeline hadn't even processed the joy of the news before she heard his sudden apology.

"You don't want it?" Marcellus asked, his voice flat.

"Do you?" she countered.

"Are you an idiot? Of course I want our child!"

Marcellus’s icy heart began to thaw, though he didn't dare to get his hopes up just yet.

"Then why did you look like that?"

"I’ve been taking all that herbal medicine for the last month. What about the baby?" Evangeline’s eyes searched Damian’s face, filled with dread.

"It’s too early to tell, but nature is cruel. If the development was compromised, the body would have likely terminated it already."

"Does that mean... I can keep it?"

"Come back in ten days to check for a fetal heartbeat."

"Okay."

On the drive back, they were caught between jubilation and lingering fear. Looking back at the timeline, the conception must have happened that day in the lounge when they’d forgotten to take precautions—and then she had gone horseback riding the very next day. If not for this month of intensive recovery, the baby might have been lost.

Evangeline touched her abdomen, unable to express her joy, her happiness manifesting in a slow trickle of tears.