I sit alone in the library, the soft scent of jasmine from the garden wafting through the open windows. I had called Nancy yesterday, spoke to her gently, told her I just wanted to talk. She agreed, sounding hesitant but curious.
An hour later, Esther shows her in.
"Thank you, Esther," I say with a nod. She bows and slips out quietly.
Nancy stands awkwardly, her fingers tangled nervously in front of her dress. I gesture toward the large, upholstered armchair across from me. "Please, sit. Let's not have you on your feet for too long. We wouldn't want to stress the unborn baby… or the mother."
She smiles weakly.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"No need for formalities. Call me Celeste."
She lowers herself into the chair, eyes scanning the room cautiously. I watch her carefully; her body language, her discomfort, the way her eyes dart to the door and then back to me.
"I'm… really sorry," she says after a long pause. "For everything. I didn't mean for things to go the way they did. I never wanted you hurt. I was terrified when I heard about the accident, I prayed for you."
I nod slowly, keeping my expression unreadable.
"I've forgiven you," I say softly. "I've made peace with fate. Sometimes, we don't get to choose the storms that come our way. We can only choose how we face them."
She looks surprised, even a little relieved. "That means a lot to me."
"I didn't call you here to dig into the past. I called you here because I want to help, since you are carrying my husband's child." I lean forward slightly, folding my hands. "I want to take care of you, Nancy… until the baby is born."
She blinks. "Take care of me?"
"Yes," I smile warmly. "I want you to move into the palace. You'll be under my supervision. You'll have all the care you need, proper meals, rest, a peaceful environment…"
Nancy shifts uneasily in her seat. "I… I don't think that's necessary."
"Why not?"
"I'm just… not comfortable here," she mutters. "Too many rules. Too much silence. I don't like it. It's not my kind of place."
I laugh softly. "Then we'll create our own kind of noise. I'm sure Esther and I can find a way to keep things interesting."
She still doesn't look convinced.
"Nancy," I say gently, "you're carrying the future prince or princess of Matica. That child matters. And like it or not, you're part of this story now. We need to make sure you're well."
"I'm doing fine," she mumbles. "Really."
"Have you started antenatal care?"
She freezes.
"No." Her voice is barely above a whisper.
"That's alright," I say, rising from my seat. "We'll start now. The palace doctor is on standby. I'll have him examine you today, run the necessary tests. We can arrange scans, nutrition plans…"
"No," she blurts out.
I pause mid-step. "No?"
"I mean… not today," she adds quickly, eyes wide. "I'm… I'm just not ready."
I slowly walk over and sit beside her.
"Nancy," I say gently, "if there's something I need to know, now is the time to tell me. Is everything alright with the pregnancy?"
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Her knuckles go white as she grips the armrest of the chair.
"I just don't like doctors," she mumbles.
I study her. Every nerve in my body is alert.
"Alright," I say quietly. "But we'll have to face it eventually, won't we?"
She doesn't respond.
A thick silence hangs between us. I don't push. Not yet. But I note everything; her hesitation, the way her eyes avoid mine, the flicker of fear that passed across her face at the mention of a doctor.
There's more to this than she's saying.
And I intend to find out.
I lean back slightly and fold my arms.
"Nancy… you're already three months along. You do know how important antenatal care is at this stage, don't you?"
Nancy looks down at her fingers, saying nothing.
I continue, gently but firmly. "By the end of the first trimester, so much of the baby's development is already set in motion; the heart, the brain, the spine. Without medical supervision, there's no way of knowing if everything is progressing well."
She fidgets, nervously pulling at the hem of her dress.
"And not just for the baby," I add, animated now, walking slowly around the room. "For the mother too. Swelling, blood pressure issues, hidden complications, they could all be fatal if ignored. You could develop preeclampsia, anaemia, and gestational diabetes… need I go on?"
Nancy winces at every word.
"I'm just saying this because I care," I say, stopping beside her. "You can't afford to ignore the basics, Nancy. If anything happened to you or the child, would you ever forgive yourself?"
"I…" she gulps, her voice cracking. "Celeste, please…"
"Even a simple scan could help us be sure about the baby's health. Don't you want to hear its heartbeat?" I press softly. "Don't you want to know it's alive in there?"
"Stop!" she suddenly shouts, standing up so fast the chair scrapes loudly against the floor. "Please stop."
I freeze, watching her.
Nancy clasps both hands over her chest, her lips trembling. "I can't do this anymore."
I say nothing. I let the silence draw her out.
"I'm not pregnant," she blurts out, eyes brimming with tears. "There's no baby. There was never a baby."
My expression doesn't change. I had expected this moment.
Nancy sobs, clutching her stomach as if ashamed of the lie she'd worn like a second skin. "I made it all up. I…I thought… I thought if I told Cassian, maybe… maybe he'd choose me over you. Maybe he'd care."
She starts pacing in agitation, her arms flailing as she speaks through tears. "But it didn't work! It only made things worse. He didn't leave you. He didn't even believe me at first. And then when he finally started acting worried becauseo the accident you had, I couldn't go back anymore! I was already in too deep!"
Her chest heaves. "I'm so sorry, Celeste. I ruined everything. I broke your trust. I hurt both of you because I was stupid and jealous and desperate."
I stare at her quietly. So this is what desperation looks like.