The early morning sun had barely crept over the horizon when I found myself pacing the length of my chamber, Alaric's bloodstained letter clutched in my trembling hand. Three days had passed since its arrival, three days of sleepless nights and anxious days with no further word from the front.
"My lady, please sit down." Mariella's weathered face creased with concern as she watched me moving restlessly about the room. "This constant agitation cannot be good for the child."
I pressed one hand to my swollen belly, feeling our baby shift within me. "I cannot rest, Mariella. Not while he's trapped in that fortress."
Each time I closed my eyes, I saw Alaric surrounded by enemies, fighting desperately as supplies dwindled. The words from his letter haunted me: *I will fight for you and our child until my last breath.*
No. I would not allow it to come to his last breath.
