In Thomas’s chamber…
The morning light slipped through the window, catching on the delicate white curtain that moved with the morning breeze.
The maids moved quietly about Lyla, helping her into a soft blue-colored gown with lace sleeves that fluttered at her wrists. The fabric was gathered loosely beneath her bosom, flowing carefully over the swell of her belly.
Her baby bump was now visible, yet rather than the radiant glow most expected, Lyla looked weak and fragile—her skin pale, her cheeks hollowed, and her eyes shadowed by exhaustion. Even so, she tried to hold her smile, one hand absently resting over her stomach.
Thomas stood nearby in a deep black tunic, watching the maids like a hawk. When one pulled a bit too tightly on the bodice, Lyla winced, and Thomas stepped forward ins
