One-Shot Transmigration: Sorry I'm Here To Ruin Your Happy Ever After-Chapter 142: Do not fail me again

Min-jae’s lips twitched, half embarrassed, half pleased. "...You really know how to make a man feel... watched."

"And adored," Meical corrected immediately, smiling, fingers tightening slightly around his. "Always adored."

Min-jae shook his head, letting out a small, amused sigh. "...You’re impossible."

"And entirely yours," Meical whispered, leaning just a fraction closer so his shoulder brushed against Min-jae’s.

"...Now, finish the rice before it gets cold. I want to see you enjoy every last bite."

Min-jae glanced down at his bowl, then at Meical’s gentle, unwavering gaze, and felt a quiet warmth spread through him.

Slowly, he lifted the spoon again, letting himself eat freely, with Meical right there.

Attentive, teasing just enough to keep him on his toes, but never in a way that made him uneasy.

It was simple.

It was ordinary.

But in that small, shared moment, it was exactly what both of them needed.

**************

Lady Syris sat stiffly on the edge of the examination table, hands folded tightly in her lap.

The castle physician had just delivered the same news for again, even after trying for almost two months : she was not pregnant.

"I... I’m sorry, Your Majesty," the physician said quietly, avoiding Syris’s gaze. "There is no indication of conception at this time."

Syris swallowed hard, forcing a polite nod. "...Thank you. I... understand."

The whispering had already begun in the corridors of the castle, the rumors impossible to contain. Some claimed she was infertile, others that she simply wasn’t trying properly.

By the time she returned to the royal chambers, the air felt thick, heavy with expectation and judgment.

Radomir was already waiting. His eyes narrowed as soon as she entered, his expression cold.

"So.." he said, voice tight, "another month wasted."

Syris tried to stay composed, lowering her gaze. "Your Majesty, I—"

"Do not ’I,’ me,’ or ’your Majesty’ me." His voice snapped, rising sharply.

Radomir loomed over her, his eyes sharp and dark, like steel honed on her failures.

Every inch of the chamber seemed to shrink around her as he spoke, words coming fast, jagged, and merciless.

"You... you make me question everything," he hissed. "Do you even understand the position you’ve put me in? The throne, the people, our future... and yet here you sit, unable to do the simplest thing a woman can do."

Syris flinched at the sharpness of the words but kept her voice steady. "...I am doing my best, Your Majesty."

"Your best?" he repeated, voice rising, incredulous. "Your best? If you were truly capable, you would have given me an heir by now! Do you know what people are whispering behind my back? That I married a woman incapable of bearing children. Do you know how humiliating that is?"

"I... I cannot control what people say," Syris murmured, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Cannot control?" he spat, his hands clenching at his sides. "You cannot control your own body! You are... pathetic!"

Syris’s fingers twitched at her sides, nails pressing into her palms. She wanted to argue, to defend herself, but every word seemed to ignite his temper further.

"If it were Kaizar," he snarled, jaw tight, "do you think he would still be empty after one month? One month, and he—he would have been pregnant by now. And yet here you are... doing nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

"He... he’s a man, Your Majesty! He cannot..."

Radomir’s head snapped toward her, eyes blazing. "...You are a woman! A woman who cannot do the only thing she was brought here to do! Do you have any idea what that makes you?"

"I... I am trying..." Syris’s voice cracked, the room suddenly felt tight, so suffocating she was feeling dizzy.

"Trying?" he shouted, his tone echoing against the stone walls. "Trying is not enough! Do you think trying excuses your failures? That I will accept you as a wife who cannot fulfill the one duty she has? That I will smile while the bloodline of my house and my throne hangs by a thread because of your inadequacy?"

Syris’s lips trembled. "I... I thought.."

"Thought?" His hand shot out, slapping her across the face with brutal force. She flew back, hitting the far wall with a painful thud, knees buckling beneath her.

Pain exploded across her cheek, her vision blurred, and the echo of the slap seemed to hang in the air, marking the moment as irreversible.

Radomir’s chest heaved as he advanced, eyes dark with fury. "You are mine! Every expectation, every promise, every whispered hope I have entrusted to you... and you squander it! You cannot even bear me a child. Do you understand how this looks? How it makes me look? A king married to a useless woman!"

Syris pressed her hand to her reddened cheek, tears stinging her eyes, voice trembling. "...I... I cannot control... my body..."

"Cannot control it?" he hissed, circling her like a predator. "You should control it! You are a woman, yet you fail at the simplest thing your sex allows! How am I supposed to respect, to trust, to..." His voice cracked with fury.

"How am I supposed to love a wife who cannot even give me an heir?"

Her knees shook, but she forced herself upright. "But I am... still your wife. I..."

"You are my wife?" he interrupted sharply, the word laced with venom. "Do you even know what that means? Or is it simply a title to you? A meaningless word to hide your incompetence?"

Syris’s chest tightened, and she pressed her hands to her temples as though she could physically hold herself together. "...I am trying. I thought... I thought I could make you happy..."

"HAPPY?" His laugh was bitter, cutting through the chamber. "You think I am happy? Do you think I married you for smiles and obedience? I married you to produce my heir! And you... you give me nothing!"

"You are failing me," he whispered, voice low and trembling with barely restrained rage.

"And I will not... I will not allow weakness in my house. You hear me? Weakness! I married a woman, and yet... I cannot even look to my future without doubting her worth. Do you understand, Syris? Do you understand what you are doing to me?"

She pressed herself into the cold floor, trembling, struggling to catch her breath. "...I... I understand..."

Radomir stood over her, chest heaving, fists clenched,"Then do not fail me again," he snarled. "Or there will be consequences beyond words."