Regal [h.s au]

40. Hold on

AMELIA

By the time we reached the shore, a cold wind has started to blow, carrying a snowstorm with it. The layer of white powder beneath our feet keeps getting thicker with each minute, the curtain of snowflakes around us limiting our vision to the minimum. My teeth are chattering, all of my fingers numb as coldness claws its way through the layers of my clothing, nipping at my bones.

Henry has thrown his jacket over me to keep me warm, exposing himself to the bitter cold, refusing to listen to my protests. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders to provide me additional warmth, his cheeks and nose red, lips turning blue. "Hold on, just a little more," he encourages me, barely forming words from the way he is shivering.

We can barely make out our way through the small fishing town we've reached, not a single soul in sight. The wind is howling, pinching every bit of my exposed skin as my lungs struggle to catch air. A sharp pain suddenly rips through my stomach, making me cry out and clutch it with my shaky hands, shuddering breaths escaping my mouth. Henry immediately halts, worriedly looking down as his palms press over mine, assessing the situation.

"What is it?" He demands, his brows furrowing in worry.

"I don't know, I felt- oh God!" I gasp as the pain repeats, even harsher this time, making me double over as much as I can. "My stomach, it- it hurts."

"Oh no... no no no, not now." He runs his fingers through his wet hair as white puffs of air leave his mouth with each word, glancing around us in panic. "You are in labour."

"I'm... what? Oh no... no no no, not now," I repeat, utter fear and panic taking over me. "We have no place to stay, the- the baby cannot..."

"Easy, darling, I'll find a way. My grandchild won't be born on the street in the middle of a snowstorm. Just hold on, all right?" He cups my cheeks, his blue eyes searching mine as I manage a nod, breathing unevenly. "Let's go." He takes my hand in his cold one, carefully dragging me behind him.

My pain keeps coming back harshly only to go away a few seconds later, each time it appears almost knocking me off my feet. "I have to say, you've chosen just the right moment to arrive, little one," I whisper, rubbing my stomach. "Shit, ouch!"

"Over there!" Henry excitedly shouts, pointing to an outline of a cottage nearby as he quickens his pace. A brief shot of relief courses through me as I will myself to go faster, feeling tired yet strong at the same time. I pray I manage to stay strong so I can deliver the baby to the world and wait for Harry to come back to me. To us.

"Open up! Is somebody home?" Henry shouts as he frantically knocks on the wooden door, running towards the window aside as I use the wall to rest my back against it, steadying myself.

The door opens suddenly, both Henry and I looking at the person standing in the doorway with widened eyes. It's a short old man with a white bushy moustache underneath his nose and wrinkles over his face. He raises one of his brows as he carefully inspects us. "Well... this ought to be good."

"Attack. Cold. Pregnant. Giving birth," I say in one breath, too worn out and in too much pain to speak. I clutch the old man's collar, my widened eyes and crazed expression visibly scaring the living hell out of him. "Help. Now."

The old man widens his eyes. "Oh my! Rodrick, fetch us warm water!" He shouts over his shoulder before looking back at me, ushering me inside. "Now go on, enter at once!"

"Thank you, Sir," Henry speaks, closing the door as soon as we're engulfed in the warmth of the room.

"God, why does my baby hate me?" I cry out in pain, barely standing on my feet as yet another wave of pain washes over me. Now I understand Silas' vision, this must be the bloody pain he was talking about, it cannot get worse than this.