Emerald green eyes, richer than the ‘wedding’ ring resting on her finger, looked down upon her with very little recognition. Rayyan almost forgot her curtesy, slightly mesmerized as she surveyed the Emperor before her. Her predecessor’s memories relating to him had been very little – just the one night they spent together – and they were hazy and dark. In the splendour of the morning sun, based on his appearance alone, Emperor Darius Atlas Allard was worthy of his title as ruler of the Maverick nation.

Thick chestnut hair was combed over neatly, shining slightly with pomade under the morning rays. His bronze skin was almost perfect in its unblemished state, save for two faint white scars that cut through his left brow on his otherwise symmetrical face. Standing upright and broad shouldered, it was enough to make one forget that he was only nineteen. He peered down his straight refined nose, lips pursed tightly as he assessed Rayyan.

She shook herself out of her stupor and respectfully curtsied, bending her head down.

“This subject greets their royal highness’, blessings of prosperity to the Emperor, blessings of good health and fortune to the Empress.”

Rayyan wasn’t relieved of her curtesy immediately, and she glanced up through the fringes of her lashes. Empress Calista had regained her composure and stood stiff lipped next to the Emperor. The court below them was still silent, and she could feel hundreds of eyes boring into her back.

“You may rise Consort Rayyan.”

The rich timbred voice absolved her of her position, and she gratefully stood up. Even though the action was natural in this body, it was still unfamiliar to her – having never curtsied in her past life.

She paused awkwardly, unsure of what her next steps were – where was she supposed to sit? A quick glance revealed an empty seat to the Emperor’s left. It was less ornate than the seat to his right, where the Empress was, but something told her it was the appropriate place to sit. She moved towards the spot but was stopped.

“Your highness, if I may?”

Empress Calista turned to her husband and smiled politely. “Since this is Lady Consort’s first-time attending morning court, it might be best for her to be seated next to me. After all, I am sure this is quite unfamiliar to her, and we wouldn’t want it to be a distraction for you, your highness.”

He turned towards her, glancing between the two women for a moment, before nodding. “The Empress’s thoughts are appreciated.”

She smiled graciously and tilted her head towards a stationed sentry behind them. A quick shuffle later and Rayyan’s seat was moved next to the Empress’s.

Distraction my ass...Rayyan thought pettily, inwardly rolling her eyes. We just played musical chairs because you didn’t want me sitting next to him.

“I am thankful for her majesty’s thoughtfulness,” she quipped, smiling towards the unsettled Empress.

Rayyan quickly sat down, feeling small in the grand chair. She crossed her hands in her lap, surveying everything around her.

“Master Speaker, please proceed with commencing morning court,” Darius commanded.

“Morning court is now in session, on this day of…”

The professional atmosphere was a pleasant surprise, reminding Rayyan of a teaching conference. There were many scribes dotted around the court, furiously and efficiently taking notes on the topics covered. She took in the entire experience in awe, noting the processes and topics covered.

Every so often, one of the nobles would gaze towards the overviewing seats, slightly amused by the wonderment on the young consort’s face. The ones seated next to the Duke of Dillon however, nervously shifted as far away from the quietly angry noble as possible. Cold chills were coming off him in waves, and even his personal attendant was near tears – trembling like a leaf.

“My lord,” he whispered quietly, fear lining his voice. “Perhaps…uhm… you may be able to…”

He swallowed the rest of his words, accidentally biting his tongue with how quickly he shut his jaw. Duke Dillon had glanced over quickly, eye’s sharp as a blade. The displeasure on his face was evident, and it seemed he was in no mood to be advised.

Another attendant patted the scared man on the back, trying to provide some comfort. “Chin up, we’ll be done soon.”

‘Soon’ dragged into at least another hour of discomfort around the icy Duke, the pass over of time having no affect in decreasing his displeasure. Every minute added another thread of white hair on the poor young attendant’s head as he struggled to serve his displeased lord.

“Go to Sir Lenin and advise I would like to meet with the Lady Consort immediately after morning court is adjourned.”

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The sudden command from the Duke startled his frightened attendant, almost causing him to spill the teapot he had grabbed to refill the Duke’s empty cup.

“Yes, My Lord!” he responded a bit too loudly, causing him to become the target of a few unapproving stares.

“And Alan…” the Duke turned to his attendant who was prepared to run off, “I will not be accepting no as an answer, I hope you understand?”

Young Alan nodded miserably, walking backwards before turning around and walking to the back to locate Sir Lenin.

Work for the Duke’s household they said…It will be rewarding they said…You will learn so much! Oh yeah, do I learn how to avoid an untimely young death caused by sheer stress and fear?

He bitterly griped to himself, navigating towards the imposing Sir Lenin.

Rayyan was blissfully unaware of the plight she had unintentionally inflicted on the young attendant. She was happily distracted by the arrangement of snacks set up in front of her. Crisp, freshly cut apples, pastries, and an ever-changing pot of hot tea. Her morning meal had left much to be desired, despite finishing every last bite. She steadily finished everything place in front of her, however…

Glurgh…

Dropping her hands down onto her gown, she pressed her palms against her unruly stomach. It felt like the mix of snacks and tea was stirring around in her stomach, not digesting. The discomfort continued to grow, and she shifted in her seat.

Why am I…Oh right… pregnant.

Rayyan tried to gauge where they were in the session, clenching her jaw to fight off the growing nausea. Sweat beaded down her temple, and everything around her seemed heightened. Too bright, too hot, too much noise. Covering her mouth with her palm, she tried to fight off the small dry heaves.

Everyone around her seemed fully immersed in the current discussion, indicating it was quite important. Both the Emperor and Empress were taking detailed notes, scribbling neatly. This definitely wasn’t the time to try and run off or having anything else happen. Rayyan tried to shift her focus to the discussion, hoping to distract herself.

“The northern borderlands will need to prepare for the upcoming warm season, considering…”

“Yes, but keep in mind trade routes will be affected if we deny…”

“I have to respectfully disagree my lord, what about the previous year when…”

“Lady Consort?”

Rayyan shifted her gaze to her left, surprised at Sir Lenin’s presence. He surveyed her carefully, noting the strain evident on her face.

“Are you keeping well?” he softly questioned, bent at the waist and level with her ear.

She nodded, smiling tightly. Sir Lenin raised an eyebrow but accepted her response.

“I see. Regardless, I have come to advise you that the Duke of Dillon has requested your presence when morning court commences.”

“Father?” she questioned in surprise.

“Yes, the Duke of Dillon.”

“Father.” She confirmed with a smile.

“…Duke of Dillon.” Sir Lenin repeated somberly.

“Yes, it will be great to see Fath –,” she faltered at the disapproving stare sent her way “ – I mean the Duke of Dillon.”

“I expected as such, I will prepare the parlor rooms in wing closest to your rooms,” Sir Lenin informed.

A slight commotion drew the duo’s attention to the Empress, who had placed her teacup too heavily on the saucer causing the cup to tip. She had been startled by the conversation between the two, dread curling low in her belly. An attendant quickly came forth to help.

The Empress’s personal blend of tea was quite fragrant, and the scent wafted towards Rayyan who paled as it caused an unpleasant wave of nausea to roll over her.

“…Lady Consort, are you quite certain you are alright?” Sir Lenin questioned again, a faint thread of worry visible in his face at the young girl’s plight. The session had reached its end, final statements closing out morning court.

“Sir Lenin,” Rayyan whimpered miserably.

“Yes, Lady Consort?”

“I am not alright.”

Sir Lenin straightened up, and gently scoffed.

“Yes, I could surmise as much. Truly it –”

“BLERGH.”

The retching sound echoed around the rotunda shaped room, bouncing off the high ceilings and loudly resonating. The room’s quiet chatter stopped, everyone directing their wide-eyed gazes towards the seated royals.

Shock had Sir Lenin going slack jawed, as he blinked unbelieving at the sight of the young consort. Rayyan had grabbed the empty teapot by her side, chucking off the top and retching into it. The empty pot had only amplified the sounds of her retching.

Rayyan retched a few more times, before pushing the teapot away – thoughtfully putting the lid back on. She miserably wiped at her mouth with a handkerchief, colouring red in embarrassment at the scene she caused.

“Lady Consort should immediately head back to her rooms,” Calista advised, shifting further away from Rayyan. “It is evident she is not in the best health. Sir Lenin, it is best she rests and does not take any visitors.”

Rayyan narrowed her eyes, eyes going over the Empress’s words. Realization dawned, and she smiled tightly.

Are you the only one who knows I’m pregnant Empress? Are you trying to quarantine me into seclusion?

She drew in a deep breath and sat up straighter, turning towards Empress Calista with a faint smile.

“The Empress’s thoughts and words are so kind,” she demurred, ducking her head down with a shy smile. “But… well you must be quite aware having gone through this yourself your majesty. These things are to be expected in pregnancy.”

A sharp intake of air sounded on her left.

“Pregnancy?!” Sir Lenin squawked, before realizing his break in decorum. He coughed into his fist and tugged down at his lapels.

Calista grimaced with closed eyes at the repeated statement. She had hoped no one would have heard Rayyan, but Sir Lenin’s uncharacteristically loud exclamation was definitely heard. Her clenched hands trembled against her ornate gown, nails biting into her palms.

The morning court burst out into an explosion of chatter, as the exclaimed term and Rayyan’s recent actions added up in everyone’s minds.

“Heaven’s blessing, the Lady Consort is pregnant!”

“What a blessing for his majesty!”

“Truly remarkable!”

Amongst the fanfare and commotion, Duke Dillon was swept up in many handshakes and congratulations. His previous anger had subsided significantly, soft eyes turning towards his seated daughter. She was surrounded by Sir Lenin and many attendants, but they soon parted as the Emperor approached.

A large and warm hand grasped her small one, causing Rayyan to glance up at the Emperor who gracefully kneeled to her level. Gasps emerged from the surrounding attendants, and Calista paled as she glanced at the position her husband took before the consort.

Darius’s eyes bored into her own, and her heart knocked against her ribs. Up close, she could see flecks of gold in his emerald green eyes.

“Lady Consort,” he intoned quietly. “You are with child?”

She could only nod dazedly. The hold on her hand increased briefly, before letting it go. The Emperor stood up straight, lips thinned before glancing back at the Empress. He stared at her for a beat, before glancing down at Rayyan’s still flat stomach.

“…I see.”