The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 483

Chapter 483 Future Dreams

Chapter 483 Future Dreams

Quinn’s smile lingered as she wondered what their child would be like.

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Boy or girl, the baby would grow amid warmth, in a home stitched together with limitless affection–from the family, and from Julius most of all.

The storms that had soaked Julius‘ childhood would never drench their son or daughter.

At dinner that night, Everett sat glowering at Julius, displeasure radiating from every tight line

of his face.

Margaret, however, looked positively buoyant. The moment she heard Quinn mention wedding plans, delight lit her kindly features.

“Marriage will be lovely. Julius is a handsome lad, and our Quinn clearly has an eye for quality.”

Everett said disapprovingly, “Mom, what good is a pretty face? A good–looking man just attracts women everywhere. Quinn could end up getting cheated on five times over!”

“Nonsense!” Margaret snapped. “Rowan is handsome too–do you expect him to betray his wife someday?”

Everett closed his mouth with a click, words abandoning him.

“And you,” she barreled on, “I didn’t birth you looking half–bad either. I’d be thrilled if you collected a few admirers–have you managed even one?”

Everett’s weathered face twitched. “All right, all right—why drag me into this? Let’s just eat.”

Julius spoke. “I will never betray Quinn. If one day she fears this face might tempt other women, I’ll simply ruin it.”

Spoken in his steady baritone, the threat of disfigurement sounded as casual as offering to tear an old photograph.

Even Everett, in that moment, had to concede that Julius truly loved his niece.

Had it not been for the unsettling rumors clinging to the Whitethorn name–and for the ever- present shadow of Joaquin Whitethorn’s volatility–Julius, by every sensible measure, would have been the perfect choice of husband.

“I could never stand it if that handsome face got ruined,” Quinn joked, her grin wicked with affection. “I fully intend to spend the rest of my life staring at a gorgeous, impossibly dashing

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Chapter 483 Future Dreams

husband over breakfast.”

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“Do you really think I’m handsome, Quinn?” Julius asked, unable to hide the boyish hope behind the question.

“Handsome?” She laughed softly. “You’re more than handsome–you’re downright breathtaking.”

Across the room, the adults exchanged a look–the two youngsters had fallen into shameless flirtation right in front of them.

Everett cleared his throat, the sound both a warning and a prompt. “So–when exactly are you two planning to get married?”

“Not until after Julius donates stem cells to Lena,” Quinn said earnestly. “But once we’re back home, I can start piecing the wedding together bit by bit.”

Everett nodded slowly. “That works. No need to rush.”

He was grateful for the breathing room. After all, he had only just found his long–lost niece; he wanted at least a little time to keep her close before someone else’s son whisked her away.

Everett’s gaze turned firm. “One more thing: the dowry must come from the Fane family. That is not up for discussion.”

“Uncle Everett, you’ve already given me more than enough. I can manage my own dowry,” Quinn blurted, genuinely startled.

Everett softened. “This dowry is from your grandmother and me, given in your mother’s name. You must accept it, Quinn. From this day on, the Fane family is your refuge. Whatever injustice you suffer, your uncle will stand behind you.”

Her eyes

welled. She felt blissful, like when her parents were alive.

In those days, no matter what hardship awaited outside, her family had stood like an unbreakable wall at her back. This time, she offered no further protest.

That evening, Quinn stayed by Margaret’s side, listening as the old woman recounted, detail by loving detail, the dowry she herself had once carried into marriage. With childlike excitement, Margaret opened velvet–lined boxes, laying out heirloom jewelry and curious trinkets preserved through decades, letting Quinn hold each piece as though passing on secret

memories.

Though her mind sometimes wandered, in these weeks, her clarity had rarely faltered.

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Quinn sensed the reason: her grandmother had finally, painfully, accepted that her own daughter was gone.

Margaret took Quinn’s hand. “When you marry, I will give you the dowry I prepared for your mother.”

“My mother’s… dowry?” Quinn echoed, momentarily stunned.

“Yes,” the old woman whispered. “When she turned eighteen, I began collecting it, hoping that one day–married or not–those treasures would give her confidence.” Tears blurred her eyes, yet she kept speaking.

“Your parents raised you wonderfully, my dear. Having a granddaughter like you is my blessing. Take what your mother never could. Someday, that dowry–and the whole Fane family–will be your armor.”

Quinn’s eyes misted over. She threw her arms around Margaret, holding her as tightly as she would have held her own mother.

The embrace spoke for the living and for the dead. If only Mom were still here—if she knew how fiercely Grandma has missed her, she would hug her the same.

“Then you have to live to a hundred and keep being my shield,” Quinn choked out, half laughing through the tears.

Margaret stroked her hair. “Very well. I shall try my best to stay around a few more years and be all the backbone you need.”