Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 205

Chapter 205: How Painful (Special Chapter)
Fiorensia had never imagined that betrayal could be so visceral, so consuming.

It was not just a realization, it was a physical ache, a twisting pain in her chest as she stood there, frozen, watching the man she had loved for years whisper sweet words to another woman.

Her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the doorway, unable to look away.

The way Ricardo held her, the way his fingers brushed gently against the woman’s cheek, the way his lips curled into a tender smile, it was the same.

The same as when he had once held Fiorensia in the privacy of their chambers, when he had traced her features with unspoken devotion, when he had whispered words only meant for her.

Memories came rushing in, sharp and unrelenting. The first time they had danced together, their hands fitting perfectly as he twirled her beneath the golden chandeliers of the royal hall.

The nights they had spent by the fireplace, her head resting against his shoulder as he told her stories of his childhood, laughing softly when she teased him.

The morning he had held her close after she had given birth to their first sons, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead, his voice thick with emotion as he called her the most incredible woman he had ever known.

And yet, here he was, telling another woman the same things.

She could hear them, every word, every whispered promise, every sweet murmur of affection. It was like poison seeping into her veins.

“My love,” Ricardo whispered as he brushed a kiss against the woman’s temple, his voice laced with warmth Fiorensia hadn’t heard in years.

“You must be careful. You and our child are my greatest treasures.”

Our child. Fiorensia felt something inside her snap. A wave of nausea churned in her stomach, bile rising in her throat. It wasn’t just an affair. It wasn’t just a passing infatuation.

The woman was carrying his child. A child that would be born into the very same house Fiorensia had built with him, a child that would be raised under the same roof as her sons, a living reminder of her husband’s betrayal.

The room spun, the air thick and suffocating. She wanted to scream. She wanted to storm in, rip them apart, and demand how he could do this to her after everything they had been through.

She wanted to remind him of the nights she had stayed awake tending to his wounds when he returned from battle, the years she had spent ruling the dukedom in his absence, and the countless sacrifices she had made so he could become the man he was.

But instead, she turned and walked away. Each step felt heavier than the last. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to move, to breathe.

She couldn’t let them see her break. She refused to give them that satisfaction. By the time she reached the end of the hall, she realized something. She had been a fool.

A fool for ever believing in his love. A fool for waiting, for trusting, for thinking that their bond was something unbreakable.

She had given him everything, her loyalty, her devotion, her very soul. And he had thrown it away like it was nothing.

She reached her chambers and shut the door behind her, pressing her back against the cold wood. Her breathing was ragged, her vision blurred with unshed tears.

This was it. This was the moment everything she had built came crashing down. For years, she had been blind.

Blind to the distance that had slowly crept between them, blind to the way his gaze no longer softened when he looked at her, blind to the fact that he had already moved on.

A sob clawed its way up her throat, but she swallowed it down. No more. She would not be the weak, grieving wife who begged for his love. She would not let this break her.

Wiping her tears away, Fiorensia straightened. If he thought he could discard her so easily, if he thought he could replace her without consequence, then he had severely underestimated her.

Ricardo Mors may have betrayed her, but Fiorensia was not a woman who would be forgotten. And she would make sure that he never forgot the price of his betrayal.

Fiorensia stood in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection of a woman she barely recognized.

Her eyes were hollow, her lips pressed into a thin line, her usually pristine posture slightly slumped as if the weight of betrayal had settled onto her shoulders.

She had spent years believing in love, in their partnership, in the unbreakable vows they had exchanged under the celestial arches of Sirius’ grand temple.

And yet, here she was, reduced to nothing more than an afterthought in the life of the man she had built a kingdom with.

Her hands trembled as she reached up to her chest, pressing against the steady yet fragile beat of her heart.

How could he do this? How could he stand there, whispering love to another, as if the years they had spent together meant nothing?

The thought made her nauseous, a cold rage beginning to simmer beneath the initial heartbreak. No. She refused to be discarded like a broken relic of his past.

A sharp knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. She wiped her face quickly, steeling herself before responding. “Come in.”

One of her most trusted attendants entered, her expression tight with unease. “My lady, I…”

She hesitated, then sighed. “The Duke has summoned the council. He wishes to discuss future arrangements… concerning his new wife.”

Fiorensia inhaled sharply. His new wife. Her fingers curled into fists. She had been patient. She had been loyal. But this? This was an insult.

Straightening her spine, Fiorensia lifted her chin. “Then let us go,” she said coldly. “It’s time for the Duke to remember exactly who I am.”

Fiorensia moved with measured grace, her footsteps steady as she left her chambers.

Each step echoed in the grand halls of the dukedom, a reminder that she had walked these corridors as their rightful lady long before the wretched woman ever set foot inside.

The whispers of servants followed her, their gazes a mixture of pity and fear. They knew. They had seen. And yet, none dared to voice the truth aloud.

As she approached the council chamber, she took a deep breath. Ricardo may have forgotten who she was, but she would make him remember.