Lady Ophelia And Her Doctor

‘Dahlia, is it snowing yet?’

Dahlia spoke softly. ‘It snowed last night, Mrs Garnett, but not much.’

Ophelia’s face lit up. ‘Really? Help me up, I want to see.’

‘Careful now, Mrs Garnett. You’re four months along. Give it another half a year, and the baby can watch the snow with you.’ Dahlia gently helped Ophelia sit up.

But Ophelia was already pushing forward, too eager to wait.

She threw off the blankets, not even bothering with shoes or her thick coat, and rushed barefoot to the door.

Dahlia let out a startled gasp and hurried after her.

Ophelia stepped outside, her breath catching as she took in the scene.

Beneath the pale blue sky, delicate snowflakes drifted lazily, dusting the marble steps like scattered pearls.

It was beautiful—soft, almost dreamlike.

But the moment she had been waiting for, the one she had clung to, wasn’t there.

Disappointment flickered across her face.

Her voice was a whisper. ‘He promised. He said he’d be back the day it snowed.’

Dahlia draped the thick coat around Ophelia’s shoulders and knelt to slip warm socks onto her freezing feet.

‘Dr Garnett always keeps his word. Maybe you just need to wait a little longer. And when he gets back, you’d best let him check on you properly. If anyone can make sure you and the baby are safe, it’s him.’

Gideon Garnett was a man revered by the world. A brilliant doctor, a name spoken with admiration, trust.

And to Ophelia, he was simply hers. Like Dahlia, she believed there was nothing he couldn’t do, even if obstetrics wasn’t exactly his field of expertise.

A small smile touched Ophelia’s lips.

Encouraged by her reaction, Dahlia went on, ‘You two have spent so much time apart since you got married. He’s been away for months—he doesn’t even know about the baby yet. Imagine his face when he sees you like this.’

Ophelia placed a hand over her barely swollen belly, warmth spreading through her chest.

Their child. Hers and Gideon’s. The thought alone made her throat tighten.

Dahlia, knowing Ophelia never tired of hearing about her husband, continued with enthusiasm. ‘Everyone’s jealous, you know? Marrying Dr Garnett—there’s no better man to spend your life with. He’s brilliant, well-read, always thinking ahead. And more than anything, he loves you.’

Ophelia lowered her gaze. ‘Yes, he does.’

Dahlia smirked. ‘Good thing you got to him first. That princess from—what was it, some tiny kingdom?—was circling him like a vulture. If you hadn’t married him first, he’d be stuck as her royal lapdog right now.’

The past felt so close, as if it had happened just yesterday, even though this was their third year of marriage.

Ophelia had met Gideon back when she was still in university, falling for him the moment she laid eyes on him.

But back then, he’d been her professor. And students weren’t supposed to fall in love with their teachers.

So she had buried it. Suppressed every glance, every lingering thought.

Until the day Princess Sofia Belvani of Belvara appeared.

Sofia, an international student from a small but influential kingdom, laid eyes on Gideon and decided she wanted him.

And when a princess wanted something, she didn’t ask—she took.

At first, Gideon turned her down. Politely, then firmly.

But Sofia didn’t understand the word ‘no.’

Furious at being rejected, she ran back to Belvara and wept to her father, King Marco Belvani.

The king, indulgent as ever, saw no reason to deny his daughter her latest obsession.

So he pulled strings. Applied pressure. Went through diplomatic channels.

And just like that, Gideon wasn’t facing an infatuated princess anymore—he was facing a goddamn royal decree.

His university, Belvara University of Health Sciences, was caught in the crossfire.

The king had donated an obscene amount to the medical research department, and the message was clear: marry Sofia, or lose everything.

If Gideon refused, he wouldn’t just be out of a job—he’d be blacklisted. No university would touch him. No research hospital would hire him.

He would be done.

Ophelia knew Gideon. Knew his pride, his stubbornness, his unwavering dedication to medicine.

There was no version of this where he gave in. He would rather destroy himself than be forced into a life he didn’t choose.

So she did the unthinkable.

Before he could submit his resignation, Ophelia proposed to him.

She still remembered that night. Her pulse hammering, cheeks burning, words spilling out so fast she barely breathed between them.

She laid out every angle, every consequence. Marrying her was the only way out.

Sofia had her father’s power, but Ophelia had something just as strong.

The Volkov name.

The Volkovs weren’t just wealthy—they were a dynasty. Their reach stretched across Valdoria and beyond, with influence in politics, business, and medicine.

If anyone could stand against a foreign king, it was them.

A marriage to Ophelia meant protection. Freedom.

And, though she didn’t say it out loud, it also meant fulfilling the one desperate, hidden wish she had never dared voice.

It was the perfect solution.

And it wasn’t even permanent.

Ophelia was still in med school—she had two years before she’d even consider a real wedding.

By then, Sofia might have found someone else to obsess over, and Gideon could walk away clean.

He had been silent for hours.

She had sat beside him, waiting, nerves fraying with every passing minute.

Then, as dawn broke, he finally spoke. ‘You won’t regret this?’

Her hands curled into the fabric of her dress, knuckles white.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She met his eyes, her voice resolute: ‘Not a bit.’

Back then, she had convinced herself that his agreeing to the engagement meant he must care for her—even if just a little.

After all, he could have easily chosen any other woman from a powerful family, or even just up and left.

The engagement didn’t go as smoothly as she’d hoped, but Ophelia didn’t give a damn about what the other students at the university thought, or even her family’s disapproval.

She was hell-bent on being his.

In her naïve optimism, she believed that even if Gideon’s feelings were nothing more than what a teacher felt for a student, her youth and beauty would eventually win him over.

But that didn’t happen.

Even long after she’d manoeuvred him into marriage, he’d never truly loved her.