Warrior Hearts

To Be Or Not To Be

It doesn't prove to be such a difficult task to distract myself from the elephant in my stomach. Could be elephant. After all, I'm still uncertain regarding its existence. That is, until the morning the contents of my dinner decide that they'd much rather journey out of my stomach through the wrong direction. Poor Celeste is greeted by a revolting mess in the steel bucket that I've pulled to the side of the bed, and to a groaning me.

As she eyes me with a maternally concerned gaze, I can tell that my lady-in-waiting has a few choice of words that she wishes to discuss with me. However, abiding by the proper decorum between her and I, she manages to exercise a great amount self control and keep her lips pursed into a thin, tight line.

The dawns that follow this unfortunate morning are much the same. In a desperate attempt to put a halt to this pattern, I end up skipping dinner, but my body shows me no mercy nonetheless. Succumbing to this new morning ritual, I end up placing a bucket beside my bed every night before I go to sleep in preparation for the morning after.

"Your Grace, I've got a special brew for you today." Celeste says, marching into my room like a mother duck with a tray in her hands. "The herbs in this tea should help keep the food in your stomach." She explains, placing the tray on the bedside table.

"I didn't know you had an interest in herbology," I say, eyeing the contents on the tray.

"I don't, Your Grace." Celeste says, lowering herself onto her knees. Reaching for the steaming teapot, she begins to pour me a cup. "But the palace physician does, and I sought his help."

"Pray tell me you didn't mention me to him?" I ask, although I already know Celeste's answer. She's loyal to a fault, and under no circumstances would she expose our suspicions to a third party without first seeking my approval. As a matter of fact, I can say this with the utmost belief that she'd allow her character to be tarnished in this instance, before allowing so much as a stray finger to land on me.

"I would never, Your Grace!" Celeste cries out, her exclamation a telltale sign that I may have offended her with my inquiry. Nodding my head in gratitude, I take the cup from her hands. Sighing, I stare at the brown liquid.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I'd begin any day during the course of my life with tea without any milk, or sugar. Truth be told, this may just be my worst nightmare. Scrunching up my nose, I inhale a deep breath before bringing the brim of the cup up to my lips and taking a tentative sip of the unappealing drink.

Although it may not be the most delicious drink that I've had the fortune of consuming - for it's certainly not a glass of sherry - within minutes of swallowing half the contents of the teacup the uncomfortable sensation that always clogs my throat in the mornings nowadays, seems to evaporate into nothingness. The immediate relief is enough for me to make up my mind.

"Celeste, could you kindly call the palace physician up here once I'm dressed?" The smile that spreads across my lady-in-waiting's face upon hearing my words is enough to fool me into thinking that she's been stretched thin on a rack for all these days. It's also a reassuring confirmation that my decision is the right one.

*****

According to Bradbury - the palace physician - I am displaying all the telltale signs of a woman with child. However, just to be sure - before he announces his final verdict - he requests me to fill a vial with my urine. After rambling on about a wheat and barley test, Bradbury drops the now full vial into a burlap pouch, cinches its strings together and promises to return to me with the result in a couple of days.

And those three days when my nerves of patience are stretched thin, every small knock at the door of the study and my chambers has me jumping in my seat in anticipation of Bradbury. At last, on the morning of the fourth day, he materialises outside my chamber door in the morning.

Tripping over her own two feet, Celeste rushes to receive our caller once he's announced his name from the other side of the door. Yanking the doors open, Celeste ushers Bradbury inside.

"Your Grace," he greets me, offering me a low bow. Nodding my head in acknowledgement, I have to refrain myself from urging him to skip past these wasteful formalities and get straight down to business.

"So?" Celeste urges, stealing the impatient word off the tip of my tongue.

"Patience," Bradbury hisses at her before turning his attention to me. "Your Grace, it is with great pleasure that I wish to congratulate you on conceiving your first child." Bending into another bow, Bradbury beams at me with an ear to ear grin that lights up his whole face.

A squeal escapes Celeste's lips, her palms clapping themselves together. Blinking, I cast my gaze from her radiant face to Bradbury's. It is only understandable that this news is of great joy to them. After all, the babe that I carry will be the future heir to the throne.

However, I didn't expect the rush of relief that floods through my veins upon hearing Bradbury confirm the doubts that have plagued Celeste and I for the past couple of days. I had assumed that I would have felt elated when Bradbury dismissed my concerns, but my emotions are quite the opposite of that. A slow grin tugs at the corners of my lips until I'm mirroring the expressions on Bradbury and Celeste's faces.

"Thank you," I whisper, clasping my palms over my mouth. "Thank you," I repeat, a scoff of disbelief escaping my lips.

"Congratulations, Your Grace," Celeste says, shifting her weight from foot to foot with the excitement that is so visibly pulsing through her blood.

"Thank you," I repeat the same two words for the third time in the span of a few seconds. Welcome to this world, I greet the babe in my womb.

*****

Manik. That's the first thought that comes to my mind once I've had a few minutes to accept the good fortune of my reality. He's the first person I wish to share this good news with; he's the one I want to celebrate with. Alas, he's not going to return for a few days now. Lord knows how I'll be able to contain all this happiness within me for so long.

I could send him a letter? Frowning, I shake my head to dismiss this unappealing thought. I must witness my husband's joy firsthand when I share this news with him, and that won't be possible through a letter. Plus, this isn't a matter that should be discussed via missives.

Return soon, Manik, I silently wish. My laugh echoes around the four walls of our chambers as I sit up in bed. To think that Manik and I will be beginning our very own family. Clasping my hands together, I begin to mentally make a list of the people who I wish to inform regarding this good news once I've told Manik.

Dadi will surely be the second to know, and then the rest of our family here. As for Noel and Father, I'll either have to send a letter to them, or make the journey myself. Will I be able to travel in this state? Perhaps I could request for them to visit me here and surprise them. After all, I bet that even if I am permitted to travel by Bradbury, Manik will stubbornly oppose such a plan. At the end of the day, he is a tyrant when it comes to my health and this is a fragile time.

I can already visualise Manik getting the ball rolling for a new nursery as soon as I impart this news with him. Dear Lord, he's going to drive everyone up a wall with his attention to detail and meticulous planning. Perhaps I should begin making a list of the items that we require for the babe as well. After all, I want this once in a lifetime opportunity to be handled by my husband and I, and not the palace staff. It's too intimate of an affair to hand off to just anyone.

Giddy with joy, I flop myself onto my back on the bed, and spread my arms out on either side of my body. I'm going to become a mother. Manik's going to be a father. We may be too young for this responsibility, and nor did we plan for it, but I know that we will rise to the challenge and do our babe proud.