Cicatrice

Chapter XXIX

QUEEN ESTELLE BELSHAW

3 MONTHS LATER

"What would you like to be when you grow up, little man?" I ask the six-year-old brunette little boy, his big blue eyes like diamonds staring up at me with hope as I place my hand on his tiny one. 

"I want to be an astronaut!" he squeals with a toothless grin, melting my heart to liquids. Visiting the renowned orphanage was one of my favourite things to do. Each visit to see the children with all their hopes and dreams made me ecstatic knowing I could help them in every possible way I could as queen. 

It never hit me that a child was still growing and developing inside me. With every passing day, they were growing, and before I knew it, my belly had enlarged to the point of visibility. For me, pregnancy was bliss. I had an excuse to not wear torture such as tight corsets. 

As for Malcolm, we've kept our distance, only communicating when crucial. This hadn't been how I expected my marriage to turn out, but in reality, was it an actual marriage? Or was it merely me in handcuffs, chained to a man I did not love?

Every day at dusk, I'd stare at my growing belly, my heart beating fast as I realise there's another developing heart in there, somewhere. "Good morning, little one," I'd whisper, caressing my bare belly in the dim light. 

Eddie still did not have a clue that this was his child. Passing days would go by, spending twenty-four lovely hours with him, and I couldn't bare to ruin what we had going on by telling him the truth. The longer I'd leave it, the harder it would get. I knew deep down he had the impression that it was Malcolm's, and I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. 

⁂

Now I lied bedridden, down with a horrible flu, or what seemed to be. With the sudden change of weather, from cold to warm, must have gotten the better of me. Through it all, Eddie hadn't left my side, abiding his promise to always be with me.

He seemed more exhausted than me, with bags forming under his eyes, and his hair scruffier than usual, slouched in a floral-print armchair, snoring soundly whilst I read quietly, sniffling and feeling like a thousand degrees. 

Shuffling in my bed, I nudge Eddie with my foot, placing my book face down. "Eddie," I whisper. "Pst, Eddie, wake up," I continue, practically kicking him awake. With his blue eyes fluttering open, a wave of guilt followed me, however, I knew if I had left without warning him, he'd panic.

"I'm going to draw myself a bath," I say, ushering out of bed.

"Wait, let me do that for you, you stay right there," he groans, ushering out of his uncomfortable position, his tired eyes fighting to stay awake. I hold him back by the shoulders, taking him off guard. 

"Please, stay here. Rest," I whisper, a small smile painted on my pink lips as I exit the room, into the connected bathroom, lighting the waxed candles to emit a dim and peaceful lighting. 

I slowly untie the red satin robe, letting it fall to my ankles, revealing my bare, warm body as I watch the water run and fill up the porcelain tub, reflecting the sound of a waterfall. My toes test the warm water before I slowly submerge myself in the water.

I find it difficult to try and relax as my eyes remain shut tightly, and trying to relax my muscles, and the baby who was moving absurdly inside me. So many things were occupying my mind: when would I tell Eddie that this is his child? When would I find out who tried to murder my father and me a few months prior? Would they just get away with it forever? Were they the same person?

With a light knock on the door, I quickly snap out of my thought. I see Eddie glance through the door with his hands covering most of his vision. "Can I come in?" he asks stupidly, yet I agree. "You can take your hands away from your eyes," I suggest, considering he has seen most of me anyway. 

He begins to bathe me with his hands, massaging my body, pulling me into a state of serenity. He knew how to make me feel safe and calm, even when the last thing I felt was that.

"Please, let me take care of you," he whispers, his hand tracing my face slowly and I can just make out a glimmer of light in his gorgeous eyes. I smile in defeat, sniffling. "You have been, Eddie. You've taken more care of me than my husband ever has," I whisper, and for some reason, it brings a tear to my eye.

"And I will until the day I die,"