"I'm happy," she whispered softly, her fingers tracing small circles on his shirt.
"I'm happy too, Florence," he replied, his hand resting on her stomach, feeling the tiny movements of their unborn child beneath his touch.
"I—there's something I need to tell you," she added, her voice soft and somewhat hesitant.
Lucas looked down at her, his lips curving into a loving smile. "What is it, my dear?"
"I'm… pregnant," she said, her words a little shaky as she met his eyes.
For a moment, Lucas didn't say anything, his heart seeming to freeze before it exploded in joy.
His lips parted, his eyes wide with disbelief, and then a radiant smile spread across his face.
"I—I'm going to be a father?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid it was a dream.
She nodded, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Yes, Lucas. We're going to have a child."
Overcome with emotion, he leaned down to kiss her forehead, his hand gently caressing her swollen belly. "I love you," he murmured, his voice thick with tenderness.
"This is the best news I could ever receive. I can't wait to share this life with you and our child."
Florence smiled through her tears, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "I can't wait either," she whispered, feeling more loved and cherished than ever before.
As the night deepened, the storm outside still raging, they both fell into a peaceful slumber—together, with their hearts full, their love strong, and the promise of a new beginning growing in the quiet space between them.
~~~{─────────
The Same Night.
Jean Goliaths Quarters.
Wyfkeep Castle. Wyfellon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}~~~
The storm outside raged with unrelenting fury, the thunder cracking through the air, followed by flashes of lightning that illuminated Jean's chamber in brief, blinding bursts.
She had always feared storms—her heart raced with each thunderous rumble, each gust of wind.
There was a deep, unsettling panic in her chest as she huddled beneath the thick, soft blankets of her bed, trying to block out the noise, but the storm seemed to be getting closer with every passing minute.
Jean's breath hitched as another clap of thunder shook the room, her body tensing involuntarily.
She buried her face into her pillow, hoping to drown out the terrifying sounds, but they only seemed louder, closer.
A small whimper escaped her lips, her fingers clutching the edges of the blankets tightly, desperate for any sense of security.
Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, hammering against the windows, and Jean curled tighter into herself, wishing for the storm to pass, or for the thunder to just stop.
She had always been like this—afraid of nature's raw power, feeling so small, so vulnerable against it.
And now, alone in her room, she could feel her anxiety mounting, threatening to take over her.
As if on cue, Jean's name was whispered softly from the darkness.
The voice was familiar, yet ethereal—comforting and yet distant, like a whisper carried on the wind.
"Jean…"
Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze. The voice was gentle, almost reverent, and though she knew no one was supposed to be in the room with her,
it was a voice she had come to recognize over time, one that haunted her thoughts. Lucius.
Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what was happening. Despite the ghostly nature of his presence—an unseen force that hovered around her—Lucius had always been near.
The feeling of his presence was never intrusive, but always reassuring. And now, amidst the chaos of the storm, she felt it again.
But she did not answer him. Her mind was clouded with fear, and though she could feel his presence drawing nearer, she couldn't bring herself to speak.
Her hands trembled beneath the blankets, and the whimpering sounds of thunder filled the silence.
Lucius seemed to understand.
Without a word, a warmth began to surround her, as if an invisible embrace was gently pulling her into the most comforting, tender fold. Her body, once rigid and cold from fear, began to relax.
The chilling storm, the loud thunder, the unsettling flashes of lightning—they all seemed to fade away.
She felt as if she were being wrapped in a warm, protective cocoon, and for the first time since the storm began, her fear slowly dissipated.
Lucius's voice, soft and comforting, filled the room once again. "Jean," he whispered, his tone as soothing as a lullaby. "You are safe. Nothing will harm you while I am here."
Her body, stiff from fear, grew gradually still, and she found herself sinking deeper into the comfort of the warmth that surrounded her.
The storm, despite its continued fury outside, felt so far away now. Her worries, her fears, all seemed to be locked outside the walls of the room. Lucius was right—nothing could get through.
"You are not alone," he continued, his voice almost a melody in the darkness. "I am here, and I will protect you from it all. From the storm, from your fears, from anything that dares to harm you."
As he spoke, she could feel the invisible weight of his presence, the intangible safety he provided.
Her shoulders, once tense, relaxed completely. The tremors in her body began to subside, and her heartbeat slowed, as if his words were anchoring her, grounding her in the calmness he offered.
The thunder cracked again, loud and booming—but this time, it didn't make her jump. This time, it didn't make her whimper.
The warmth Lucius provided shielded her from the fear, and she closed her eyes, the soft whispers in the air slowly guiding her into a peaceful slumber.
And then, there was silence.
Lucius, still invisible but ever-present, watched over her as she finally drifted off to sleep, her breath even and calm, her body now completely at peace.
The storm outside raged on, but Jean no longer feared it. In Lucius's presence, she had found the comfort and safety she so desperately needed.
As the night passed, the storm continued, but within Jean's room, only warmth and quiet peace remained, all thanks to the unseen comfort of the ghost who had protected her from the tempest outside.