The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 87

Chapter 87: To Survive (2)
Over the months, Meloris grew accustomed to the palace’s gilded chaos. It was no different from the slums she had clawed her way out of – just dressed in silk and gold.

Venomous women whispered behind perfumed fans, perverted men schemed in the shadows, and greed dripped from every polished smile.

The only difference was wealth, but even the rich, she discovered, were ravenous.

Hungry for power, for favor, for survival.

And so, Meloris played the game.

She had seduced Lord Takresh with the precision of a blade, her beauty and wit dismantling his defenses piece by piece.

Through whispers and glances, she ensnared others too, women of influence, maids who held secrets, soldiers who followed orders without question.

With each victory, her presence grew, and with it, the Empress’s disdain.

Now, nine months later, she was on the brink of childbirth.

The once-quiet chamber was alive with noise.

A midwife barked hurried instructions, her hands slick with blood as she worked between Meloris’s trembling thighs.

The sheets beneath Meloris were soaked red, clinging to her skin like the remnants of a battlefield.

Sweat poured down her temples, plastering her hair to her face.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps, each one trembling with pain and fury.

“Argghh!” She clutched the bedposts, nails digging into the wood as another wave of agony tore through her body.

“Push, my lady!” the midwife urged, her voice drowned out by Meloris’s guttural cries.

Meloris’s eyes burned, unfocused, as the room swirled around her.

The air was heavy with the coppery scent of blood and the stale sweetness of lavender, meant to calm but failing miserably.

Her body convulsed with effort, her teeth gritted as she bared the pain like a warrior on the battlefield.

Another scream tore from her lips, and the midwife cried out, “I see the head! One more push!”

Meloris gritted her teeth, summoning every ounce of strength she had left.

Victory, she thought, was always paid in blood.

And then, there he was—a son. Relief flooded Meloris, a wave of exhaustion and triumph mingling as her chest heaved. The midwife gently scooped up the infant, his cries sharp and alive, and placed him in her trembling arms. He was so light, so small, his fragile body wrapped in bloodied cloth.

Meloris stared at him, her breath catching as his tiny fingers curled instinctively around hers. The sensation was electric, piercing through her pain and exhaustion like a jolt. Her heart clenched, a foreign, overwhelming feeling filling her chest. For the first time in years, she felt whole—found purpose.

“Child…” she murmured, her voice trembling as she studied his tiny face. He looked so much like his father. Sharp cheekbones, a defined brow—traits unmistakable to the bloodline of Novan Valtirium. But this boy… this boy was hers. Fully, utterly hers. And yet, he also had her beauty.

“Argider,” she whispered, her lips curling into a faint smile. “I will name you Argider. It means beauty.” Her voice softened, her smile fading into determination. “You are mine.”

The door burst open with a sharp bang, and Meloris startled, instinctively clutching her son closer. Lord Takresh stepped in, his face stern, his armor glinting in the flickering lamplight.

“It’s time,” he said without preamble. “The escape is ready. My men are holding the passage, but that’s as much as I can give you. Beyond that, you’re on your own.”

Meloris nodded, her grip on Argider tightening. She met his gaze and said, “That is enough.” She didn’t need reassurances or promises. She only needed the path to freedom.

Takresh handed her a cloak, thick and dark, its hood deep enough to shroud her face. “Cover him well,” he instructed, his voice a low murmur. “If they see him…” He didn’t finish, but she understood.

With her son bundled tightly in her arms, she slipped into the dark hallways, the weight of the cloak pressing down on her.

Each step was calculated, her breathing shallow, her ears straining for the faintest sound. The palace corridors, once familiar, now loomed with menace, every shadow a threat.

Boots thundered in the distance, soldiers, their voices echoing with commands. She ducked behind a column, her heart pounding in her chest as Argider stirred in her arms. “Shh,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

The baby’s faint whimper was muffled as she pressed him closer.

She crept through the maze of corridors.

A patrol passed, and she pressed herself against the cold stone wall, her body trembling.

The soldiers’ footsteps receded, and she exhaled shakily, continuing toward the hidden passage Takresh had told her about.

The final stretch was the most perilous, a long corridor lit by sputtering torches, with guards stationed at the far end.

Her fingers tightened around Argider as she drew the hood lower over her face and walked with purpose, blending into the shadows.

One of the guards turned, his gaze flickering over her, suspicion creeping into his features. Meloris kept moving, her heart hammering as her mind raced.

“You there!” he called.

She froze, her body tense.

“Stop.”

But she didn’t. She moved faster, almost breaking into a run.

A hand reached for her, and she twisted, narrowly avoiding his grasp.

The sound of steel being drawn rang out, but she didn’t stop.

Argider whimpered softly in her arms, and the guard’s shout echoed behind her as he gave chase.

The exit loomed ahead, a sliver of moonlight cutting through the darkness.

She pushed forward, her legs burning with every step.

The passage was there, just within reach. With a final burst of strength, Meloris darted through the narrow doorway, the cries of pursuit fading as she disappeared into the night.

The cold air hit her like a slap, but she didn’t falter.

Outside, the chill of the night wrapped around Meloris as she stumbled down the dirt path, her legs trembling with exhaustion.

Suddenly, A creaking sound broke the silence, and Meloris’s head snapped up.

A wooden merchant carriage, weighed down with crates of fruit, rolled into view.

At the reins sat a lone figure cloaked in darkness, their face obscured by a hood.

“Over here,” the figure whispered, their voice low and urgent.

Her heart leapt with suspicion, but there was no time to hesitate.

The knight, clearly one of Takresh’s men, leapt down from the carriage and motioned for her to hurry.

He yanked open the back, revealing crates of oranges, apples, and bundles of cloth. “Get in. Now.”

Meloris clambered up, careful not to jostle Argider, and slipped into the cramped space.

The knight grabbed a thick blanket, musty and heavy, and draped it over her and the baby, burying them together with the fruits.

“You stay still,” he hissed, his tone brooking no argument. “Don’t move, no matter what you hear.”