Chapter 195

Chapter 195
Lina's POV

I lay on my favorite chaise lounge, a leather-bound volume resting against my rounded belly. At nearly five months along, my body had transformed considerably—my face had filled out with healthy plumpness that Aria never tired of praising, and the curve beneath my loose summer gown grew more pronounced each day.

"Your Grace, you're positively glowing today," Aria said as she approached with lavender tea, her eyes crinkling with genuine affection. "I swear you've never looked more radiant—pregnancy suits you beautifully."

I accepted the tea gratefully, inhaling the soothing aroma. "You flatter me shamelessly, Aria. I feel more like a well-fed barn cat these days, content to lounge in sunny spots."

Through the open windows, I could hear gentle voices from beneath the pear tree, where Lisa had established her sewing circle. The sight of my ladies gathered there, their colorful skirts spread across the grass as they worked on needlework, filled me with unexpected contentment.

"Speaking of which," Aria said, settling across from me with barely contained excitement. She withdrew the finest cashmere and velvet I had ever seen—cream-colored with intricate silver threadwork along the edges. "We thought this would be perfect for the little prince or princess. Would you like to help us with the embroidery work?"

"I'm not particularly skilled with a needle," I replied. "I'd hate to spoil such lovely material with my amateur attempts."

Without hesitation, Aria took both my hands in hers. "Then you can sit with us and guide our work. Your input would be just as valuable."

Suddenly, a firm knock against my ribs from inside made me gasp and press both hands to my belly. A small bump appeared on my dress, pushed outward by what could only be a tiny foot or elbow.

"Good heavens!" I exclaimed, staring in wonder. "Something just moved—there was a definite bump, right here!"

The sensation returned with more force—a firm push against my left side that made the fabric stretch outward in a perfect dome. I watched with tears gathering as our child announced their presence with enthusiastic kicks.

"Oh, Your Grace, that's the baby!" Aria clasped her hands together, radiant with delight. "Those are your first proper kicks—what a strong little one you're carrying! The movement means they're growing well."

Lisa and the other ladies abandoned their sewing to cluster around my chair, their faces bright with excitement as they waited for another sign of life. But as if suddenly shy of all the attention, the baby settled into stillness.

"I think we've overwhelmed the little one," I said with a soft laugh, stroking gentle circles over the spot. "But now I know what to expect—this must be what they call quickening."

In the days that followed, I would join the ladies beneath the pear tree each morning while they worked on baby clothes, their gentle chatter providing a soothing backdrop to my reading.

But as summer faded toward autumn, troubling news reached us. Weeks of steady rain continued, and when Aria mentioned Augustus had called three emergency council meetings in three days, worry settled in my chest.

Three days later, a mud-splattered courier arrived with devastating news—the Rhine had overflowed catastrophically, devastating twelve territories and claiming tens of thousands of lives.

"So many people," I whispered, unconsciously stroking my belly. "He must be under tremendous pressure."

It was Cecilia who organized charitable collections among the inner court ladies, making a grand show in the courtyard of donating three entire chests filled with gold coins, her voice carrying as she proclaimed her generosity for all to hear.

When the call for contributions reached my chambers, I didn't hesitate. Setting down my silver fork with deliberate precision, I looked directly at Lisa. "Go bring me my jewelry box—all of it."

I systematically removed every valuable piece I owned, spreading them across the table—the sapphire earrings Augustus had given me, delicate gold chains from court functions, jeweled brooches that had been gifts from nobles seeking favor. Only my moonstone necklace and silver ring remained.

"The refugees need things that can be converted into bread and medicine," I explained to Aria. "But I want everything carefully catalogued—every piece documented. I won't have anyone claiming I stole items I freely donated."

My ladies insisted on contributing their own savings. Lisa offered her quarterly allowance, while the maids pooled their wages with touching determination.

In the following days, I established a routine in my prayer chamber. Each morning I would light blessed candles and kneel on my mother's cushion, reciting the Requiem for the Departed. Using careful script, I transcribed prayer texts in elegant lettering on parchment, then folded each prayer and placed it in the ornate prayer box.

"Take this to the temple priests," I instructed Aria each morning. "Tell them these are for souls lost in the floods."