Coretta looked out of the carriage window, frowning as the vintage carriage elegantly weaved through the side of the packed street. As she peered through the amber curtain, she couldn't help but be enthralled by the street's beauty.
The customary scent of livelihood filled her nostrils, and the picture festooned out with whimsical decor and tapestry. But then, a sudden ache hit her chest, and she felt a wave of envy towards the locals.
She missed the carefree days of her youth and the beauty of happiness that came with it.
"Excuse me, My Lady, but I am afraid you shouldn't be seen. After all, you are with child," scolded Blythe, observing her mistress and her Gothic aura.
Coretta released the curtain and turned to glare at her maid. She reprimanded, "I am not a child, but an adult! My child is safe with me."
"I apologize, My Lady. I worry for your sake," replied Blythe, her brunette hair and blue eyes as clear as the sky. Her tan skin and calloused hands didn't detract from her beauty.
Despite being a maid, she treated Coretta like a younger sister whom she adored and respected deeply.
Coretta was acutely aware of the four-year age gap between herself and her companion, although to the outsider it might seem insignificant. She began to say something to apologize, but then thought better of it and instead bit her lip and looked down.
The carriage turned onto a quieter street, and the sound of the wheels clattering on the cobblestones filled the air.
Away from the hustle and bustle of the local festivities, Coretta instinctively placed her hand on her swollen stomach. She felt the tension of her baby, who was struggling to stay in the womb. It was a habit of hers to do this when she felt anxious or stressed.
Her weak smile did little to mask the concern she felt. "I'm patiently waiting for you too, my love," she whispered, hoping her baby could feel her love and support.
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The carriage came to a stop at a magnificent white pavilion that rose like a tower in the center of an expansive estate.
The building was adorned with wraparound hallways and intricately designed roofs at every corner. It was currently being used as a hospital for the injured and ill, but its grandeur was impossible to miss.
The duke had built it as a place of refuge for his knights after months of battling in war. The royal family owned the pavilion, and it was surrounded by tall oak trees, with light scents of medicinal herbs and leaves in the air.
Coretta stepped out of the carriage with Blythe and the coachman's assistance, and the scorching sun immediately beat down upon them.
Blythe quickly held an umbrella over Coretta's head to shield her from the heat. The afternoon sun shone through the pavilions, casting golden rays across the estate.
As they approached the pavilion, Mr. Lothbrok, one of the duke's trusted physicians, greeted Coretta with a hearty laugh. He was taller than her and his old age showed in the crinkles around his eyes. He led Coretta to her room, chatting amiably along the way.
The interior of the pavilion was just as impressive as the exterior, with lavish decor and opulent furnishings.
The physician, Mr. Lothbrok, approached Coretta with a gentle smile, placing his palm against her naked belly.
"I can hear the healthy heartbeat of the duke's child," he joked silently, retrieving a faint smile from the introverted woman. He faked a cough and proceeded to check on her.
Blythe excused herself and left the room, leaving Coretta and Mr. Lothbrok inside the newly furnished pavilion, which was mainly used by the duke's wife. The room was quiet and peaceful, with two sets of beds, one intended for the Duchess and the other for the Duke.
After Coretta laid on her back, Mr. Lothbrok placed a blanket over her, creating a warm and comfortable environment.
As Mr. Lothbrok had received a letter from the duke beforehand regarding Coretta's visit, he had made arrangements for the equipment to be used on a small rectangular table across the room.
He expressed, "The child is stable," and Coretta smiled in relief after hearing the good news, as she had been scared about her constant nosebleeds.
Mr. Lothbrok paused to grab a pair of gloves from the table, intending to wear them as he continued, "And about your frequent nosebleed. Well... it is the stress." The gloves he wore were soft and gentle, and he took great care to ensure he didn't cause her any discomfort.
Coretta interrupted him, saying, "I am forbidden to do anything," and Mr. Lothbrok nodded with understanding.
Truthfully, Duke Ansel, though he may seem uncaring of her, could not simply make her overexpose herself to work.
Mr. Lothbrok countered with an enlightened smile, "Not stress from work, but the brain," as he continued to examine her. He used various medical instruments with great care, ensuring that Coretta was comfortable and at ease.
Coretta held the torrent of agony visibly clear in her eyes, as she said, "I am happy."
The physician wasn't just a good doctor, he was also a clairvoyant professional psychiatrist known in the town. He noticed that Coretta's recent behavior differed from a year ago and he could tell that there had become a thin line between the duke and her.
Unlike the happy couple before, he'd rather identify them as unfortunate. He made a mental note to keep an eye on her, as he knew that her emotional well-being was just as important as her physical health.
News spreads.
Of course!!
Mr. Lothbrok regarded the situation with a mix of concern and empathy. His patient, Coretta, sat across from him, her eyes filled with anxiety. As the royal physician, he had seen his fair share of courtly drama, but this was different. Coretta was not just any noblewoman; she was the Duchess of Oldenburg and her delicate condition required utmost care.
A mistress and a new love.
He believed they were delusional facets of boredom and stress. A made-up story!
Mr. Lothbrok leaned back in his chair, studying her intently.
"If the stress continues," he said gently, "you may lose the child, your grace. Take care of yourself first before anything else. Be consistent with the medications I prescribed. And," he added, fixing her with a stern look, "distance yourself from trouble."
Coretta's eyes widened. She considered Dr. Lothbrok like a father figure and wished nothing but happiness for her unborn child. But her secret weighed heavily on her heart.
"Eradicate any suicidal thoughts, Coretta," Dr. Lothbrok continued firmly. "Please!"
She bit the insides of her cheeks, stunned by his perceptiveness. She had concealed her emotions well—or so she thought.
"P-Please," she stammered, "d-do not speak a word to my husband, his grace. I promise to take better care of my health and mind."
Dr. Lothbrok nodded gravely. "Don't make the pain in your heart too obvious, my child! Enemies take advantage of vulnerability."
Coretta's wings fluttered nervously beneath her gown. If Duke Ansel discovered her fragile state, he would surely encumber her wings—a fate she feared more than anything.
No!
"Of course, Mr. Lothbrok," Coretta replied, her head lowered to conceal the size of her enlarged belly.
"Rest assured that I won't breathe a word of this to the Duke," he reassured her.
Upon hearing this, Coretta's head snapped up to meet the physician's gaze. Her cheeks were flushed, not from frivolous butterflies, but from regret and shame. Despite this, she was grateful to the old man for his discretion.
Mr. Lothbrok smiled with a hint of pain as he observed the woman before him. Her appearance was tragically telling.
"What is it, exactly?" A voice inquired gently.
Coretta tensed up; her body frozen in place on the bed. Her heart raced frantically, like a wild animal seeking escape from its cage, as she heard his husky voice. He was here. Why? When? Was it for the child?
Once more, her heartbeat mercilessly against her ribcage, leaving her gasping for breath like a frantic voyager in a dark alley.