Chapter 391

“This is just too much,” Thanatus murmured as he gazed into the distance, his face a bitter grimace. “And Pamela–what on earth possessed her to run into a pillar like that?”

Fermin arrived swiftly. As he stepped into the hall, he was met by Arthur’s cold, piercing gaze, and a chill ran down his spine as cold sweat broke out on his neck.

He bowed and said, “Greetings, Father,” his heart pounding with anxiety.

‘Why did Pamela have to be so petty? How did things get so out of hand?’ he wondered, unable to make sense of it all.

“Do you recognize your crimes?” Arthur’s voice was colder than tempered steel. “The consort I bestowed upon you publicly demanded separation, then chose death to prove her resolve. You have utterly disgraced the entire royal family.”

As he spoke, Arthur hurled a memorial from the desk straight at Fermin’s face.

Fermin dared not dodge. The sharp edge split his brow open, blood immediately welling forth.

Pressing his forehead to the floor, Fermin said in a trembling voice, “I have failed in my duty, Father. Please punish me.”

Arthur sprang to his feet, wagging an accusatory finger in Fermin’s face. “The Queen is only thinking of the royal bloodline. But you–you can’t even control your own wife.”

“Causing such a scandal–how will the common people view the royal family? They’ll say we mistreat Pamela, and that you’re heartless and disloyal.”

Fermin’s brow furrowed deeply, blood trickling down from his wounded brow, yet he dared not even wipe it away.

“Father, please calm your anger. I will handle this matter properly.”

Arthur’s voice was razor–sharp. “Proper handling? What exactly do you mean by ‘proper‘? Does it mean placating Pamela, yielding to her wishes and not taking a secondary consort, or even granting her a divorce?”

The rapid–fire questions left Fermin reeling, completely at sea.

Fermin pursed his lips in thought before replying, “Father, your son will not divorce Pamela. But she resents me, and if I force her to stay in the residence, I fear she might repeat her old tricks. I–I was thinking, perhaps—”

At this, he shot a cautious glance at Arthur, thinking, “I’ve had enough of her antics lately.”

Gritting his teeth, Fermin finally laid everything out. “Your son wishes to send Pamela to a church for seclusion. The princely residence cannot be without an heir, and taking a secondary consort is for the stability of the realm, Father.”

Fermin kowtowed repeatedly, remaining prostrate for a long time, unwilling to rise.

Arthur was initially irritated by the commotion, but as he listened to Fermin’s words, his mood gradually calmed.

Sending Pamela to church seclusion under the pretext of illness was indeed a feasible solution.

If she could come to her senses, she could be brought back.

After all, as the legitimate daughter of the Beren family, she could not simply be cast aside.

Arthur’s gaze upon Fermin softened, no longer menacing. He waved his hand and said, “You may rise.”

Fermin straightened up. Thanatus, ever observant, discreetly stepped forward and handed him a handkerchief. “Your Highness, please wipe your face.”

“My thanks to Father,” Fermin said, knowing Thanatus wouldn’t have overstepped his duties without the King’s tacit approval.

With the prince’s words of gratitude, Arthur’s anger abated somewhat.

Arthur looked at Fermin and said, “Although your proposal has merit, we shall give Pamela one final chance. If she comes to recognize her errors, she may return to the residence to recuperate. If not—”

He paused, his eyes hardening with resolve. “Then she shall be sent to a church for seclusion.”

He had given Pamela a chance; it was up to her whether she could grasp it.

After all, as a daughter–in–law of the imperial family, it wouldn’t do to be too ruthless.

Fermin withdrew with profuse gratitude and headed straight for Phoenix Hall without delay.

Dabbing at the blood on his brow with a handkerchief, he asked the eunuch guiding him, “How is Pamela faring?”

“Your Highness,” the eunuch replied respectfully, “the imperial physicians have revived Her Highness. She remains in Her Majesty the Queen’s care and has not yet awakened.”

Fermin nodded, a plan already taking shape in his mind.

Fermin thought coldly, ‘Pamela’s suicide attempt must never leave the palace walls. Anyone who hears about this must die.”

Fermin strode into Phoenix Hall, where the Queen was already waiting anxiously for him.

When she saw the wound on Fermin’s brow, her heart ached and her eyes brimmed with tears. “My dear son, you’ve suffered so much. It’s all because of that vile woman, Pamela. If she hadn’t attempted suicide, you wouldn’t have been scolded by your father because of her.”

Fermin replied indifferently, “Mother, please calm yourself.”

He glanced around at the people in the palace and ordered, “All of you, leave at once.”

The palace maids all bowed and withdrew from the hall.

The Queen looked puzzled and asked, “What are you doing? Is there something important you need to tell me?”

Fermin’s eyes hardened with resolve. “Mother, what happened today must never leave the palace.” The Queen immediately understood his meaning and said coldly, “They’re just a few palace maids and royal attendants. If they die, so be it. There’s no need for you to be so cautious–Mother will handle it for you.”

Fermin nodded and continued, “Father wants to give her one last chance. If she comes to her senses, that’s best. If not, then there’s no other choice.”

A pained look crossed his face. “I just pity my daughter Lucky, who has been without her mother since she was little.”

“It’s her own misfortune,” the Queen said dismissively, offering reassurance. “Lucky is actually better off without her. What good could a woman possibly teach? If you’re worried, I’ll bring Lucky to the palace and raise her myself.”

Hearing this, Fermin’s face relaxed into a grateful smile. “My deepest thanks, Mother.”

At that moment, a palace maid entered and respectfully announced, “Your Majesty, Your Highness, Pamela has regained consciousness.”

“Mother, I’ll go check on her,” said Fermin.

“Go ahead,” the Queen replied with a cold snort, her voice dripping with disdain. “But don’t show her any kindness, lest she gets ideas above her station.”

She scoffed inwardly, ‘She thinks she can force me to give in by attempting suicide? What utter delusion.‘

Fermin withdrew and quickly made his way to the side hall.

The air inside was thick with the acrid scent of medicinal decoctions. On the large bed, Pamela lay with her forehead wrapped in gauze, blood seeping through the bandages.

She was as pale as parchment, lying there as if she might disappear at any moment.

Hearing movement in the room, Pamela slowly opened her eyes and saw that it was Fermin who had entered.

For a brief moment, a light sparked in her eyes, but it faded just as quickly.

She saw no trace of compassion on Fermin’s face–only icy disdain and irritation.

She realized he was blaming her for causing so much trouble and dragging him down.

Pamela cursed herself inwardly. ‘Why hadn’t I struck harder? Anything would be better than living in such humiliation, she thought.

“Pamela, are you feeling better?” Fermin’s voice was cold as ice.

He stood by the bed, looking down at Pamela, not a trace of compassion in his eyes–only indifference and irritation.

All he showed was disregard and annoyance.

Pamela turned her head away in silence, refusing to look at his face.

Yet tears trickled down from the corners of her eyes.

“Why did you have to go to such extremes? Did it really have to come to this between us? Do you want to leave me that badly?” Fermin asked coldly.