The Villainess is my fiance: But she is gentle towards me-Chapter 192 -: Fate is truly cruel.

The next day, Charlotte flew out of her house in the village.

Before leaving, she locked the door carefully.

She stood there for a long moment and gave the house one last look.

This was the place where they had lived together, laughed together, and waited for a future that never came.

Her hand moved to her belly, rubbing it softly.

She was very close to giving birth.

The child inside her was almost ready to come into the world. Yet, the father would never see the child’s face.

Her husband had died at the young age of twenty-three.

He carried many regrets in his heart, but at the very end, he thanked Charlotte for staying with him through his final years.

Those words stayed with her, heavy and warm at the same time.

Charlotte took a deep breath and rose into the sky.

She flew fast, cutting through the air as strong currents crashed against her body.

Before flying far, she had already cast a spell around herself.

The spell wrapped her gently, making sure the child inside her would not be harmed.

She flew across the vast continent of Elora, passing mountains, rivers, and cities far below.

After a long journey, she finally stopped above a country called Jaya.

Jaya was not a large country, but it was very developed.

In the whole continent, it was the only place where people could choose their own leaders.

The land below looked busy and alive, filled with movement and voices.

Charlotte slowly descended to the ground.

As soon as her feet touched the earth, she hid her presence and blended in with the common people, becoming just another face in the crowd.

She walked toward the nearest hospital. It was not large, but it had basic medical care.

She planned to give birth there and then move on with her next plans.

After walking for a few minutes, she reached the hospital.

However, she did not go inside. Instead, she turned away and rented a room at a nearby inn.

As she entered, many eyes fell on her.

Some people quickly looked away, sensing something strange. Others did not.

"What a beauty..." someone muttered.

"Where is your husband, little lady?" a burly man said.

His face was covered in scars, and his eyes were filled with ugly thoughts.

"Did he leave you?" he continued, clicking his tongue.

"What a fool, leaving such a beauty behind."

Charlotte did not respond.

She calmly took the room keys from the counter and started walking toward the stairs.

"Give us a chance," another voice said.

It came from a short man with sharp features, almost like a goblin.

"Your husband didn’t care for you, left you pregnant..." the man laughed.

This time, Charlotte stopped.

Her face remained calm, but her eyes changed. A cold, deadly light filled them.

"Good," she whispered softly. "Very good. I will start my preparations with you."

She slowly turned around and looked at them.

The group burst into laughter and sneers.

"What are you going to do?" one of them mocked. "Scream?"

They never heard her scream.

In the next moment, everyone in the inn died...those who mocked her, those who watched, even the receptionist who stood behind the counter.

None of them had time to shout or beg.

Death came fast and cruel.

Charlotte flew out of the inn, her expression cold and empty.

She went to another inn not far away.

This time, no one spoke to her. No one dared to look at her for long.

She quietly entered her room and closed the door behind her.

Silence returned.

Charlotte stayed in the inn for one and a half months.

During that time, a rumor spread through the city.

People whispered that an evil witch with red hair and red eyes had appeared and killed around thirty people in an inn without mercy.

When Charlotte heard this rumor, a soft chuckle escaped her lips inside her quiet room.

She lowered her gaze to the black pendant resting in her palm, where Vivian’s soul slept.

"You called me a witch too, didn’t you?" she whispered.

Her voice broke halfway through the sentence.

Tears fell from her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away and forced herself to stay calm.

She could not afford to fall apart. Not now.

She stayed inside her room, waiting.

After one and a half months passed, it was finally time.

Charlotte walked into the hospital and admitted herself without drawing attention.

Ten days went by.

Then, one night, Charlotte flew out of the hospital.

Her belly was flat again, showing that the child had already been born.

In her arms was a small baby, wrapped tightly in soft cloth.

She stopped in the air and looked down at the child. Her eyes were filled with longing and pain.

The baby had red hair, and it was a boy.

He was sleeping peacefully, so his eyes could not be seen.

But Charlotte already knew their color. Blue, just like his father’s.

His face was almost a perfect copy of Vivian’s, only the hair was different.

"You really resemble your father..." she whispered.

The longing in her eyes grew deeper, mixed with sadness and love that could never be fulfilled.

Holding the child close to her chest, Charlotte turned toward the horizon.

Without another word, she flew at extreme speed toward the Indrath Empire, cutting through the sky like a falling star.

The past was behind her.

And the future had already begun.

In the Indrath Empire, this day was special.

People from every corner of the empire had gathered in the capital city, Deldi.

Around ten thousand people stood before a huge platform, filling the streets with noise and excitement.

Today, the official heir to the throne would be chosen.

On the lower level of the platform sat many high-ranking nobles, dressed in fine clothes and jewels.

On the second level sat the three dukes.

Duke Ravan Tramplin sat proudly, his face filled with arrogance. And honestly, he had every reason to be proud.

Over the past few years, his power and influence had surpassed the other two dukes.

Many already considered him the strongest among them.

On top of that, the prince he supported was about to become the crown prince.

How could he not be happy?

Beside him sat Duke Zenithara.

Dark circles hung under his eyes, and his expression was gloomy. He spoke to no one and simply stared ahead, lost in thought.

Next to him sat Duke Sant.

Though Duke Kamesh Sant had retired and passed his title to his son, Duke Veer Sant, the young duke showed no lack of confidence.

He sat straight, calm and sharp, his eyes observing everything around him.

At the highest seats sat the royal family.

The emperor sat on the throne, with the empress beside him.

Both wore gentle smiles, but sadness hid behind their eyes.

"It would have been nice if she were here..." the empress said softly.

The emperor sighed. "I should not have tried to interfere with her choices," he muttered.

"Who knows where she is now..."

Regret filled his eyes. It had been almost three years since they had last seen their daughter.

Beside them sat the three princes.

The first prince heard his father’s words and let out a quiet snort.

’It’s better that that woman left,’ he thought bitterly. ’If she had aimed for the throne, I would never have stood a chance.’

His thoughts toward his sister were filled with hatred.

The other two princes wore gloomy expressions on the surface.

Inside, however, they were pleased.

Each of them had been promised two dukedoms each in exchange for not competing for the throne.

They knew their own limits and understood that this was the best deal they could get.

Just then, Commander Vikram stepped forward.

The moment he appeared, a loud cheer erupted from the crowd.

The sound shook the air itself.

Vikram raised his hand and waited patiently until the noise slowly died down.

When silence finally returned, he spoke.

"People of the Indrath Empire," his voice rang out, strong and clear. "As you all know, we have gathered here today to choose the successor of our reigning emperor, Gray von Indrath."

The crowd held its breath.

"Among the four successors, Princess Charlotte von Indrath has refused her right to participate in the race for the throne," Commander Vikram said.

His voice was not loud, yet it spread across the entire square.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then whispers erupted everywhere.

"I heard Princess Charlotte ran away with the delinquent heir of the Zenithara house."

"Tsk." Someone clicked their tongue. "I heard that man used to visit red-light districts every day. Tsk, tsk. How could a princess like someone like that?"

"Trash... trash... trash," another person muttered. "People like them really have such good fortune."

The whispers grew louder, sharper, crueler.

Each word reached Duke Zenithara’s ears like a blade.

His heart bled.

These fools did not know the truth.

But he did.

He knew his son. He knew why the princess had chosen to leave with him.

Tears threatened to fall, but he forced them back. He would not cry here. Not in front of these people.

In his heart, he was grateful to Charlotte.

He knew his son did not have much time left.

Perhaps... he was already dead. But because of Charlotte, his son had known happiness in his final days.

’Son...’ he thought bitterly. ’Did you really think your death would cause more pain than what you already did?’

Duke Zenithara had always had doubts about his son’s behavior.

The way he acted like a delinquent, the way he ruined his own name.

Deep down, the duke had some guesses about what his son was trying to achieve.

But his wife never understood.

And that was exactly what his son wanted.

After his wife chased their son away, the family slowly broke apart.

No one spoke anymore. His wife spent her days staring blankly out the window, lost in her own world.

And he... he did not have the strength to speak to her.

The silence in their home was heavier than any argument.

The duke closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh.

’Fate," he thought, "is truly cruel.’