Chapter Five - The Unwanted Miracle.
1094 Words
The dizziness came first.
Aria initially believed that it was fatigue. The past few weeks had been quiet routines, after all, eat, sleep, remain in her quarters, at times be taken to the garden as a polite prisoner. The king did not often consult her, and when he did, it was on official business.
He had not touched her again.
He had not come to her bed.
He had not even addressed her by her name lightly.
But still... the lightheadednesses could not cease. They arrived as a shock, as a carpet being pulled out under her feet. One second she would be standing and the next she could no longer see, it turned to grey fog.
Then there was the nausea, sharp, overwhelming, which caused her to breathe heavily on the edge of her bed. The healers in the palace carried herbs, teas, potions, all that they usually recommended in case of stress or shock.
None of it helped.
Aria woke up one morning attempting to rise out of bed only to have her legs give way. The room spun violently. She touched the wall--missed--and struck the floor with a dead thud.
The door flew open practically at the same moment. Two guards ran in, and then a maid screamed to the healers.
Aria made an attempt to speak, but only succeeded in a moan, when her vision closed in on itself.
Everything went black.
And she awoke upon a cushy bed beneath white glare. The air was filled with the smell of herbs and antiseptic. One of the healers floated over her, his hands faintly glowing with diagnostic magic.
Thou hast wakened, the healer said. “Try not to move.”
Aria blinked, groggy. “What… happened?”
“You collapsed. You were brought here, at once.
A second healer came up, carrying a parchment. Her face could not be read, and this fact could have only plunged Aria into despair.
Lady Aria, she said, we conducted a series of tests to know what was causing you to feel that way.
Aria swallowed. “And?”
The medicine man looked at the rest.
“You are pregnant.”
The words fell upon her like a punch. Aria was unable to breathe a moment. She instinctively raised her hand to her stomach, and her fingers shook.
Pregnant?
Her chest tightened. The mate bond responded with a trembling pulse as though it was assuring the unimaginable.
She stared up at them. “Are you… sure?”
“Completely,” the healer said. You got pregnant soon after you got to the kingdom.
Shortly after—
Her breath came to her in a painful hurry.
The night Rowan had taken her.
The night he’d marked her.
The night she had actually dared to hope that he wanted her.
Her heart turned and her eyes were stinging with tears before she could restrain them.
A child.
His child.
Their child.
The door opened with a bang that startled the entire group of healers.
Seraphine burst in like a sword cutting air. Her eyes were fixed on Aria, hard, unfriendly, blazing.
What do you mean by this? she screamed, and her voice reverberated in the room.
One of the healers came forward. We were just going to tell the king of you, my lady--
Seraphine stopped her, and walked right to the bed of Aria, glaring with rage.
“You’re pregnant,” she spat. “Of course you’re pregnant. Owing to the fact that fate did not humiliate me sufficiently.
Aria shuddered and did not turn her head. “I didn’t plan this.”
“Oh, please,” Seraphine hissed. “You think I’m stupid? You do not think I do not see what you are up to? His heir, a child, would provide you with a place here. Power. A claim.”
Aria stared at her, stunned. “I didn’t do anything.”
Seraphine’s hands clenched. You were to have been out of the way. A formality. A curse-breaker. Not.::” She pointed to the stomach of Aria with disgust. “This.”
The healers looked at each other with uncomfortable expressions, but made no comment.
Just then, the air shifted.
There was another opening of the door, but this time softly.
Rowan entered.
The king.
His gaze flew across the room and rested on Aria.
His expression faltered.
Not anger.
Not relief.
“Is it true?” Rowan requested the healers, low-pitched.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” one replied. “Lady Aria is with child.”
There was a silence that was like pulled wire.
Rowan sighed, and the burden of the news dropped on his shoulders. He walked up to the bed and halted several feet off. He didn’t look at Seraphine. Not even once.
Rather, he stared at Aria- studying her, examining her face, her expression, the shakiness of her hands.
Aria set herself to be rejected. For disgust. For denial.
But instead.
Rowan swallowed. “A child,” he murmured.
She could hardly hear his voice, which was full of something she could not recognize.
Guilt.
Fear.
Awe.
Something more he could not conceal.
Seraphine stiffened. “Rowan—”
He raised one hand, and put a stop to her without even looking at her.
“This child…” Rowan swore, trying the words. “My heir.”
Aria’s breath hitched.
His mouth was closed and he looked at her stomach. Aria, thou,-- You-- You ought to have told somebody that you were sick.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered.
He appeared to take that slowly in.
Seraphine finally snapped. “So that’s it? She produces you a child and now she counts?
Rowan swiveled his head around to face her. This is my child, he said, deepening his voice with Alpha command. “I will not treat this lightly.”
Seraphine blushed and stood her ground. “And what about me?”
Rowan didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t have one.
The trouble in his eyes pained Aria in the heart. This wasn’t joy. It wasn’t love.
It was war that was tearing him.
He cared about Seraphine.
But he could not disregard his heir.
A guard came in hastening, bowing down upon his knees. Pardon the interruption, but there is some urgent message.
Rowan turned. “From whom?”
“The Council, sire. They summon you immediately. They mentioned that it is a critical issue and cannot be delayed.
The face of Seraphine flushed with frustration.
Aria’s breath stopped.
“We shall talk after I come back,” Rowan said.
- Writer
