Sylvester walked down the corridors dimly illuminated by twilight. He was quite sure that Beatrice would be the only one in the bedroom by now. He knocked thrice on the door, while being careful with the glass of warm milk in his hand. "Hey, are you still asleep?" He quietly asked through the door, when he didn't get a reply. He heard the sound of clothes ruffling, then the bedroom door creaked open. "Good morning Sylvester." Beatrice said, with her thoroughly disheveled hair. "Good morning." Sylvester said with a smile. "May I Come in?" He asked. "You don't even need to ask."
Sylvester came in to the heavily furnished room, which are the results of the changes that Beatrice made to it after she got married. Beatrice sat on the bed, while Sylvester sat next to her. "You have to freshen up, so you can drink that, while it's still nice and warm." He instructed. "I don't think I will be able to take that now, though, Sylv." Beatrice said, with a slight frown in her face. "Why not?" Sylvester asked, with an uplifted eyebrow. "Because, I feel a bit sick." Beatrice said. "I am not telling you to take the milk for you own sake. I am ordering you to take it for the sake of my neice or nephew that Is in there." Sylvester said, with a serious look on his face. "Fine." Beatrice grumbled. "And why on earth does your hair look like a bird's nest?" He asked her. "Because I was tossing to and fro, wondering when I will hold this little bundle of joy in my hands." She said. "You still have nine whole months though. Or Is It eight and a half? I guess I will have to ask Anna." He said, while he pondered. "Anyway, drink that now in my presence. The maid that I specially assigned will be here soon." He said. When Beatrice saw that he was adamant, she had to take the milk down in one gulp, while earnestly, trying not to throw up. Satisfied, Sylvester left. After that, the maid that Sylvester talked about soon arrived and helped her to freshen up. "I am really happy for you, my lady." The maid said, why attending to her hair. The maid was young, nearly as young as her If not younger, and she already had a child of her own. Beatrice didn't need anyone to inform her that this was one of the reasons why Sylvester had assigned her for this job. The maid was average heighted, with black hair and green almond shaped eyes, and a pointed nose. Even though she was just a maid, her feautures were pretty and elegant. "I am sure the patriarch will be thrilled to find out." Katrina said. By patriarch, she was referring to Dennis's father, of course. "I guess." She said, not wanting to think about the matter any further.
Katrina escorted her to the dining room, where the rest of the family members were seated. Diane and Morris's chairs were vacant of course, giving the house a melancholic kind of feel. "Good morning father." Beatrice courtsied respectfully to her father in law, while Katrina also did the same. "Good morning." George responded with a low grunt, while Beatrice seated herself down. While they were yet eating, George once again brought up the subject which he had been talking about for centuries. "When are you two going to have a child?" He said, referring to Dennis and Beatrice. Beatrice glanced briefly at the man who was seated by her side, but Dennis seemed unbothered about it all. "Father, don't you ever get tired of bringing this subject up?" Sylvester was the one who spoke instead. "I mean it hasn't been long since they got married, if you ask me, it is bound to take time afterall." Sylvester argued. "It's not about time, it's about the family's lineage!" George pressed, slamming his hand on the table. Dennis sighed outwardly. "Can't we just have a peaceful breakfast for once?" He asked turning to his father. "I already gave you my reasons didn't I? If that isn't good enough for you, then go ahead and die." Dennis said coldly. It would be a lie to say that everyone in the table wasn't shocked. Dennis ignored them all, and continued with his meal as If nothing ever happened. "Dennis.." Beatrice muttered his name in her head with a complicated expression. It was quite clear that he was going down the wrong path. "You..." George finally found his tongue. But before he could even react, Dennis caught him off. "And before you go on, don't forget that this family is still striving to survive because of me." He said, while shooting an indifferent look at his father. "And before you go on about the family's lineage, reputation and honour, I want you to know something, just watch the locations where you hang out with those concubines- I mean female colleagues of yours. People have eyes and mouths, you know." He said. George, who was sufficiently enraged, left the dinning area without finishing up his meal. "What?" Dennis said, as he saw the looks that Sylvester and Beatrice gave him. "All I did was to tell him the truth." Dennis said while shrugging his shoulders. "If you want to sulk with him and go on a hunger strike as well, be my guest." He added. Beatrice fiddled with her fork dissapointedly, while Sylvester ordered a servant to take the food up to his father, if the man still had an appetite to continue eating, that is. The trio continued to eat in silence.
Beatrice still continued to fiddle on with her fork. She was looking at the Omlette presented before her, and no matter how appetizing or looked like, she couldn't just bring herself to eat it, which was funny because that was one if her favorite foods. Everyone In the family was also equally aware of this, because she ensured to devour completely every omlette she laid her eyes on. If she didn't eat this one, wouldn't Dennis know for sure that something was up?
She carefully inserted the spoon into her mouth. Gosh, even the aroma was funny to her. It felt weird on her tongue, and she forced herself to swallow it. She regretted it instantly though, because her stomach began to churn. She tried to resist it, but her efforts were futile and she quickly placed her hand on her mouth. "E-excuse me." She said, and was Pratically nearly running down the hallway. Katrina followed, and Dennis just glanced at her with an uplifted eyebrow. "What Is the matter with her? Is she still sick?" He asked turning to his brother. "How am I supposed to know?" Sylvester's reply was hostile. "She is your wife, is she not?"
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Katrina handed over a towel to Beatrice, who was seated on the bed, and feeling rather faint. "It's like that when you are at on this state." Katrina encouraged her, while Beatrice wiped her mouth. "Thank you, Katrina." Beatrice said handed the towel back. "What state is she in?" Came a voice, making the both of them jump. At of the corner of her eyes, Beatrice saw Dennis leisurely resting his back against the door frame. Darn it. In the midst of their 'agitation' both women forgot to close the door. Beatrice wondered how much he had heard. Dennis frowned. "I asked what state she was in." He repeated his words, which made the atmosphere heavy. But his words were mostly directed at Katrina. "Well, my lord, you are aware that the lady was ill recently." Katrina responded, her eyes darting around, head lowered, not even Daring to look up. "So I am sure that my lady's immune system is fighting back." She concluded. "Is that so?" Dennis tilted his head and smiled making Katrina feel like all her secrets were out in the open. "Y-yes." Katrina stammered. "Very well then." Dennis said, standing upright. "You may leave. And shut the door behind you." He ordered. Katrina briskly walked past him and closed the door, leaving Beatrice to her fate.
After Katrina left, the smile on Dennis's face faded. Beatrice would rather crash into the wall, than to look at those emotionless blue eyes of his. "Beatrice." He began slowly, sitting by her side, examining her facial features carefully. "When was the last time you had your period?" At this point, his eyes moved from her face to her stomach. Beatrice felt the urged to wrap her hands around her lower abdomen, as If that will, by some miracle, protect the foetus inside her. "Two weeks before I took ill." She replied. "Are you sure?" Dennis asked imploringly. "What are you so worried about, we do have birth control methods, remember?" She asked him with a slight smile. "Skipping the day you ovulate Is not enough of a guarantee." Dennis said, as he stood up. "I sincerely hope, for your own sake, that you are not hiding anything from me." He added, as he bolted the door shut.
At the time he got to the office, his assistant welcomed him. "Cornelia." He began. "I want you to keep a close eye on Beatrice from now on."