Chapter 118
118
~Elara’s POV
When we entered the mansion, the guards and maids bowed like they always did. The head maid hurried forward and informed us that dinner was already set on the table, but Darlon shook his head gently and told her that we had already eaten at the office, so she bowed again and disappeared into the hallway with soft footsteps that faded into silence.
We walked inside, and the place felt too quiet, almost like it was waiting for us to fill it with breath and movement, and I suddenly realized I was exhausted but my mind was still racing with designs, fabrics, anger, betrayal, planning, hope, and a small, dangerous tenderness that kept pulling me toward Darlon. We changed into our pajamas without much talking, the kind of silence that didn’t feel heavy, just familiar, like we were two people who had shared too many storms to fear quietness anymore.
I sat at my vanity and picked up my cream to apply to my face, trying to distract myself with routine, and that was when I felt his presence behind me. His hands slid gently around my waist, his breath brushing my shoulder before he pressed slow kisses across my skin like he was memorizing a map he had once lost. I closed my eyes for a second because it felt soft and safe and confusing all at once.
“sweetheart,” he murmured against my neck, his voice low in a way that made my heart hitch, “I want you p>
I swallowed, my fingers tightening on the cream jar. “Darlon,” I whispered, and even I could hear the conflict in my voice, “I am not sure tonight is a good time p>
He turned my chair toward him gently and cupped my face with both hands, kissing me again, deeper, like he was trying to convince me to forget the whole world. I leaned in without meaning to, kissing him back, because some part of me needed that softness, needed that reminder that I was more than the chaos happening around me.
But then, like a wave, I suddenly felt a twist in my stomach, heat rising to my throat, and before I could think, the nausea hit like a warning.
I pulled back, breathing fast. “Wait,” I said quickly, putting a hand to my mouth. “Something is wrong p>
“What is it?” he asked, his eyes sharpening with concern as he reached for me.
“I do not know,” I managed to say before the second wave came even harder, and I rushed to the bathroom, dropping to my knees in front of the toilet as I vomited. It burned, and it scared me a little because I had not felt that way all day, and now it was coming like my body was trying to say something I did not understand.
“Sweetheart?” Darlon’s voice was right outside the door. “Can I come in, please? Are you okay p>
I rinsed my mouth and leaned against the sink, feeling weak, like my energy had been pulled out of me. “I am fine,” I called back, even though my voice sounded nothing like fine.
He came in anyway, slow and careful, and placed his hand on my back. “You are not fine. I already called the doctor. He is on his way p>
I shook my head. “Darlon, that is unnecessary. I am sure it is just the food or stress, or something from earlier, I will be fine p>
“No,” he said quietly, but firmly. “I am not taking chances with you p>
A few minutes later, the head maid knocked lightly at the door. “Sire, the doctor is here,” she said softly.
“Thank you,” Darlon replied, his voice calm but carrying a sharp edge of concern. He turned to me for a brief moment. “Stay here. I’ll have him check you,” he said, then gestured toward the maid. “Please bring him in p>
I watched as she nodded and left, and then Darlon helped me settle carefully onto the bed. My body felt heavy, my stomach twisting in ways I could not understand, and I realized how tense I had been holding myself.
The door opened, and the doctor stepped in quietly. He nodded politely to Darlon, then immediately focused on me, asking him to step aside so he could examine me properly. Darlon’s hand lingered on mine for just a second before he moved back, his eyes not leaving me for even a moment.
The doctor checked my temperature, asked about what I had eaten, and then tilted his head slightly, studying me. “When did the nausea start, my lady?” he asked, his voice calm but attentive.
I hesitated, unsure if I should tell him everything, but then I realized there was no reason not to. “Tonight,” I admitted softly. “It came suddenly after dinner, and it’s been getting worse.” I paused, frowning slightly. “I’ve also noticed… I’ve gained some weight recently. Not a lot, but enough to feel it p>
He nodded, jotting something down on his notepad. “Any other changes? Fatigue, changes in appetite, or anything unusual physically p>
I shook my head slowly. “Nothing else really, just… tiredness sometimes, and the nausea is the worst part p>
He listened carefully, then placed a hand gently on my wrist to check my pulse. He leaned back slightly, listening to my heartbeat through his stethoscope. Every second seemed longer than the last, like time itself had slowed, making my heart race faster.
Finally, he straightened and cleared his throat, his expression neutral, but the weight in the room made my stomach twist.
“You are not sick, my lady,” he said softly, his voice calm but serious, “but based on your symptoms, the nausea starting tonight, the weight gain you mentioned, along with your vitals, it is clear that you are pregnant. These signs all point to an early stage of pregnancy p>
The words hit me like a wave I hadn’t been ready for.
Darlon’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at me, his usual calm replaced by an overwhelming happiness. Then he stepped forward without hesitation and wrapped me in a tight hug, holding me as if he never wanted to let go. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispered urgently, his voice trembling just a little. “Thank you… I’ve wanted this… I’ve wanted this so much p>
I stiffened slightly, surprised by the intensity of his joy, but I let him hold me. His hands rubbed my back gently, and I could feel the genuine elation radiating off him, making the moment almost surreal.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I murmured, my voice catching.
“Don’t say anything,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at me. His eyes shone, bright and alive, and his smile was impossible to ignore. “I just… I’m so happy. Really happy p>
I couldn’t help but let a small, nervous laugh escape me, still stunned by the reality of it all. “I… I need to process it,” I said softly, feeling the fluttering in my stomach that had nothing to do with nausea.
He grinned, pressing his forehead gently against mine. “We will process it together,” he said, still holding me close. “But for now… I just needed to tell you how happy I am. You’re going to be a mother, and I’m going to be a father… and I can’t believe it’s real p>