Heather froze, her heart skipping a beat. She had always felt uneasy around Theo. Now, standing face to face with him in the dimly lit corridor, she felt that wariness grow into something close to fear.
"Theo," she greeted him, trying to keep her voice steady. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Theo's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he didn't say anything. He simply stared at her, his gaze so intense it felt as if he could see right through her. Heather felt a chill run down her spine, her mind racing with possibilities. 'What did he know? What had he found out?'
"What are you doing here?" Theo finally asked, his voice clipped and devoid of any warmth.
Heather swallowed, trying to gather her thoughts. "Mateo and I are here for a brief visit. Empress Lamaine has arranged a welcoming party for us."
Theo's gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Heather with a mix of disdain and barely controlled anger. The moment of tension between them stretched, thick and suffocating, until Theo finally broke the silence, his voice icy and unforgiving.
"Get out," he said, each word laced with a venom that sent a shiver down Heather's spine. "Leave this place before you do what you came here to do."
Heather's heart pounded in her chest, her breath catching in her throat. She opened her mouth to protest, to defend herself, but the words died on her lips as Theo's gaze shifted pointedly to her swollen belly. His eyes, once full of anger, now brimmed with something darker—disdain. The look he gave her was one of pure disgust, as if he could barely stand to be in her presence.
"You're disgusting," Theo spat out the words, his lip curling in revulsion.
Heather flinched as if she'd been slapped, her hand instinctively moving to cradle her belly. She felt the sting of his words deep in her chest, a mix of shame and fear twisting her insides. Theo's words cut deeper than she'd expected, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Before she could muster a response, Theo turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. He didn't look back, didn't offer her a chance to explain or defend herself. He simply left her standing there, alone with the weight of his contempt hanging over her like a shroud.
As Theo disappeared from sight, Heather felt her resolve begin to crumble.
The walls of the palace, once grand and imposing, now seemed to close in on her, suffocating her with the reality of her situation.
Heather entered the grand banquet hall, her face a mask of composure despite the turmoil churning within her. The room was filled with nobles, their laughter and chatter blending into a symphony of social pretense. The atmosphere was opulent, with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors, and tables laden with extravagant feasts.
She had expected this, the grandeur of the Northern Empire's palace, the weight of eyes upon her, judging her every move.
She moved cautiously through the room, her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. Mateo was somewhere in the crowd, likely charming his way through the nobles, but she felt more alone than ever.
As she tried to focus on the meaningless conversations and forced pleasantries, a sudden, sharp pain shot through her abdomen. Heather froze, her breath hitching. It was just a cramp, she told herself, willing the pain to pass. But then it happened again, stronger this time, causing her to grip the edge of a nearby table for support.
Her heart raced as realization dawned on her. This wasn't just a cramp. The pain intensified, and she felt a warmth spreading between her legs. Panic surged through her as she looked down, seeing the telltale wetness on the floor beneath her. Her water had broken.
A wave of terror crashed over her, and the room seemed to spin. She wasn't ready—not here, not now. She scanned the room for Mateo, but he was nowhere in sight. The pain came again, more intense, making her gasp. The world around her began to blur as she tried to steady herself, her breathing coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
People around her began to notice something was wrong. The laughter died down, replaced by concerned murmurs. Heather could feel their eyes on her, but all she could think about was the life inside her, the child she was about to bring into the world in the worst possible circumstances.
A servant rushed to her side, their face a mix of concern and urgency. "My lady, you're in labor," they said, stating the obvious as they supported her trembling form.
"I need... I need to get out of here," Heather whispered, her voice laced with fear. The last thing she wanted was to give birth in front of everyone, to have her child's first moments witnessed by these people who might not even care.
The servant nodded and quickly called for help. The banquet was now in chaos, with nobles scrambling out of the way as a small group of servants gathered around Heather, helping her to a nearby room. The pain was coming in waves now, each one worse than the last, leaving her breathless and terrified.
As they guided her out of the banquet hall, Heather's mind raced. She had prepared for this moment for months, but nothing could have prepared her for the fear that gripped her now.
Heather was barely conscious as the servants carried her through the palace corridors. Each step sent jolts of pain through her body, her vision blurring with each wave of agony. The palace doctor had arrived, a stern-looking man with years of experience etched into his lined face. He quickly assessed the situation, barking orders to the servants as they hurried to prepare a room for the imminent birth.
Heather's mind was a fog of fear and pain. She barely registered the flurry of activity around her, only vaguely aware of the doctor's calm voice urging her to breathe, to stay calm. But how could she? The pain was unbearable, and the reality of what was happening loomed over her like a dark cloud.
But there was no turning back now. The baby was coming, whether she was ready or not.