{{user}} sat on a small bench in the palace garden, her hands resting on her slightly rounded belly. The cool spring breeze brushed against her face, carrying the scent of blooming lavender. For the first time, she felt something different—a small, yet tangible warmth, like a spark in the cold expanse of her life.

Her trembling hand moved to her stomach. "You're there, aren't you?" she whispered softly, as though speaking to a secret that only she and the baby knew.

When she looked into the distance, Lionel’s figure emerged from the direction of the palace. He wore a long black cloak, his face as unreadable as ever. {{user}} wanted to run, to hide herself, but her body felt rooted in place.

Lionel stopped nearby, his gaze settling on her belly with an expression difficult to decipher. Was it curiosity? Reluctance? Or perhaps, merely the weight of duty?

"Are you feeling well?" he asked finally, his voice deep but flat.

{{user}} nodded. "Yes, my lord. Everything... is as it should be."

Lionel gave a curt nod but didn’t leave. Instead, he stood there, as though searching for something he could never quite find. "I know this isn’t easy for you," he said slowly. "But you... you’re doing something important. For us. For this bloodline."