Page 7 of Adoringly, Edward
All too quickly, her stomach churned with intense sickness. She turned, and unable to help herself, she vomited into the bare rosebush to her right.
Her eyes snapped wide open when realization dawned on her. The thought of never seeing the mysterious man again plagued her with dread, but not with sickness.
This was…
…something else.
Her hand flew to her belly as shock overcame her. As denial wedged itself into her mind and clung on with fierce talons. All she managed was to stare blankly at the path ahead as the silence pressed down heavily on her shoulders until it managed to crush her.
Because…her monthly bleeding was late. By two weeks.
“No, no, no!” she cried, frantically glancing around to make sure no one had seen her purge her insides into a rosebush. But only bare trees and shrubs stared back at her where they circled a sundial. She was alone.
What was she to do? This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t married yet. This couldn’t happen to her. Her father would kill her, and as the warlord of Edilann, she feared he would quite literally kill the man responsible.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she pressed a hand to her breast and closed her eyes to reach for her inner calm. Surely, this was a hoax. Just a scare. Sometimes her bleedings would arrive late for no reason other than whim. This was nothing. It would pass.
But as one week turned into two, she could no longer deny it.
She was with child.
It became increasingly difficult to keep down her meals and hide her ailing condition from her friends and family members. But most of all, it was difficult to hide it from the servants. She’d pricked her finger to coat her undergarments with blood. She’d spent nearly a week bedridden with “womanly aches,” but in reality, all her body wanted to do was vomit.
All efforts to find her masked man ceased when fear plagued her day after day. She couldn’t hide her condition for long. She knew that. Especially when she eventually started showing. But she was scared. Terrified. And perhaps there was only one person she could turn to.
She took a deep breath as she stood outside the closed doors of one of the drawing rooms in the palace. Muffled voices and laughter came from within, inspiring more anxiety to wriggle into her bloodstream and spur her heart into a fast rhythm.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot on the soft blue carpet, reaching deep within herself for the courage she needed to face this.
Finally, she turned the handle and stepped inside. All conversation ceased. All eyes turned to her.
Through the bile trying to climb her throat, she managed a smile as her gaze found her mother where she sat on an ornate settee. “What a beautiful gathering,” she said, curtsying to her aunt, the queen herself, and to several other ladies of the court. “Mother, might I steal you for a few moments? One of the family birds got out, and I can’t find it anywhere.”
It was code for needing her immediate help, and it couldn’t wait.
Mother smiled to the others as she set down her cup of tea. “I will try to make it back in a timely manner. I’ve so enjoyed all of your company.”
The woman made a graceful exit, and they fell into step beside one another before entering a vacant room filled withornate, velvety furniture. Light spilled between blue velvet drapes over the windows, the color representing the kingdom of Edilann.
The moment the door closed behind them, her mother’s forehead creased with worry, and she smoothed down her coiffed brown hair like she always did when in distress. “What is it, dear? What happened?”
Unable to help herself when her emotions now had a mind of their own, she burst into tears. They came faster than she could wipe them away. “I made a mistake,” she sobbed, staring at the floor so she didn’t have to look her mother in the eye.
“We all make mistakes, dear,” her mother said calmly as she stroked Vivienne’s hair.
“You don’t understand.” She finally braved lifting her head and decided to speak the truth quickly to get it over with. “I am with child.”
Her mother’s mouth closed, her jaw clenching as she took a step backward. Her gaze jumped toward the door, and without preamble, she grabbed Vivienne’s arm and dragged her closer to the windows as if to prevent them from being overheard.
“You are sure?” she asked.
Vivienne nodded. “I’m quite certain.”
A long breath whooshed from her mother’s lips as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Who is the father?”
“I don’t know!”
“Vivienne!” her mother gasped.
