Alienor lay back and closed her eyes, listening to the faint calls of the birds while she caught her breath. ’Twas no coincidence that she had been ill again this day, she was sure, and she forced herself to face the truth.
She had not bled since her nuptials and ’twas the third morning in a row she had been ill. Her stomach was even more temperamental than usual regarding food. Her emotions twisted and turned with an unpredictability that made her own head spin. Her tears seemed always close to the surface, which was not typical of her nature. True to her promise to Iolande, she had not interfered with conception, and it seemed that Dagobert’s seed had taken root.
Without a doubt, Alienor was pregnant.
She gazed out the window at the clear blue sky, her heart filled with conflicting em
