Darkness had long become a constant companion for Janet. She no longer bothered to check the time—what difference did it make anymore? At the same hour each day, a maid would come in with warm soup or nourishing herbal tonics, all carefully arranged under Charles's instructions.
At first, she resisted. But gradually, that resistance faded, worn down by silence and fatigue. Even when her stomach could no longer hold the bitter brews and forced her to vomit, she still drank them—because in her heart, she wanted to bring his child into this world safely and healthily.
Day and night had lost all distinction. Her world was confined to a room, and the only thing she longed for now was a fleeting glimpse of him. But even that simple wish proved difficult to fulfill. She saw him less and less. And when she did, it was only in the quietest hours—when he believed she was fast asleep.
