Eileen felt her heart sinking. It wasn't just because she hadn't slept well, or because she was currently doubled over a basin heaving up her guts, it wasn't even because this was the third day running for each phenomena. It was what all of these things meant together.

"Milady, are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" Eileen's maid, Molly, knelt by her and pulled her hair back away from her face.

"No, no physicians," Eileen panted, closing her eyes against another wave of nausea.

"It's just…" molly hesitated, "You've been sick for nearly four days now, and I know you haven't been sleeping."

"I'm fine," Eileen said weakly.

"You don't look fine," Said Molly "And…" She sighed awkwardly.

"What?" Eileen asked, more snippish than she meant to.

"Well, milday," she wiped sweat from Eileen's forehead, "I've noticed that you haven't… had certain… er, monthly pieces in your laundry."

Eileen's heart sunk entirely. Suddenly, she was crying. "I know," she wailed through her hands. Molly panicked, grabbing Eileen's shoulders and rubbing her back, hushing her with reassuring words. She fetched Eileen a glass of water and laid a cloth over the basin.

"Milady…?" She tried to get Eileen to look her in the eyes.

"Molly, I'm pregnant," Eileen managed eventually. Molly's eyes bulged, but she said nothing. "Surely you've guessed it, surely you've seen… I'm not sick, I'm pregnant." Eileen said, trying not to cry. Molly handed her a handkerchief, and Eileen blew her nose.

"I suppose… you would know best. It does add up," Molly said hesitantly. "I… I will not judge you, milady, but… but if it's because someone hurt you-"

"No, it's not at all like that," Eileen hiccuped. "Molly, I… I should have told you years ago, but… I'm married."

Molly leaned back. "What?" She said, astonished.

Eileen sighed. Oh, if only she'd gotten all of this out when she wasn't tired and crying and nauseous. "I'm married. No one here in Camelot knows – alright, one or two do, but… but the rest don't know because… oh, it doesn't matter why, no one knows and if anyone finds out, I'll be ruined and so will my husband."

Molly was watching her in slight horror. "But… why? Why've you kept it secret? You could never marry a man not worth showing off," Molly said. Eileen hiccuped a slight smile.

"Thank you… But... It's… complicated."

Molly squinted a knowing look. "Is it Sir Gawain?" She asked. Eileen frowned at her.

"Sir Gawain? God, no. No, not Gawain. Though you're closer than you might think."

Molly looked a bit apprehensive. "One of his brothers?" the prospect wasn't bright.

Eileen looked away from here. "His squire, Terence."

Molly's eyebrows shot up. "Squire Terence?" She asked. Eileen nodded. "You married a squire, milady?" Eileen nodded again, but added,

"He's not just a squire, you ought to know."

"Never just anything, I'd say." Molly answered quickly, and explained, "He saved my life once – well, my virtue and my life." Eileen looked up. She'd nearly forgotten about that. Molly smiled at her. "He's a good man. We always say he really ought to be a knight by now,"

Eileen smiled. "I think someone else beat you to that, actually."

Molly tilted her head, and although she hadn't planned to, Eileen told her everything.

"Ye gods, is that why I found men's underthings in your laundry last Easter?"

"Oh, no," Eileen ducked her head, face as red as her hair, "Oh, I nearly died when you asked me, please don't look at me, I still haven't told him about that."

Molly was giggling. "A duke, though? A duke leaving his clothes in his lady's room for her impressionable maid to find? How on earth does he run his country?"

Eileen laughed with her, but had to stop for nausea. Molly got her another glass of water. "Oh, Molly," she said after a drink, "I am so glad to have you, to know that you know."

"Can you not let everyone else know?" Molly asked quietly. Eileen's heart sunk back down from where it'd risen. There was a heavy pause.

"No," Eileen whispered. "It's not... safe. Now's not the time. We can't." She couldn't help it when her hand fell on her stomach. Molly saw it and her gaze softened.

"Well," She smiled, "It doesn't matter," She whispered: "Milady, you're going to have a baby."

Eileen looked at her for a long moment. "I'm... going to have a baby," Eileen said, and as she looked at Molly, something clicked in her brain. Molly's face looked so different than before. Just the same, but so different. Everything was different. The floor looked different, the walls, too. The air smelled different, the world sounded new. "I'm going to have a baby," she repeated, breathlessly. "I… I'm going to be a mother."

Molly's face split with a grin.

"Molly, I have child,"

Molly let out a squeal and hugged her mistress close, stroking her hair and reassuring her that she would do everything she could to help, that she'd make sure no one found out until she was ready, that she'd cover for her and find her the right clothes and the right food and make excuses to avoid wine and ale when needed and she'd arrange it so Terence could come whenever he needed and they'd have time to sort things out and everything would be perfect and she would makes clothes and gowns and blankets and toys.

And Eileen heard absolutely none of it, because she was staring over Molly's shoulder into space, eyes watering and mind reeling and heart quivering in fear. But her sunken soul was fluttering to nervous life as she realized how the world had changed.

Mother. Her.

"I need to tell Terence," She said absently, interrupting Molly's stream of words. The maid pulled back.

"Should I fetch him?"

"No - Later," Eileen surprised herself with her hesitance. "I'll… I'd like to eat, first."

"Alright. I'll fetch something." Molly rose and went to the front door. She opened it.

"Squire Terence!" She exclaimed. In the bedroom, Eileen's face went sheet white and her heart pounded. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, I came to see if the Lady Eileen was awake. Sir Gawain was wondering if she'd like to dine with him – the Lady Morgan is at court today, you see, and-" there was a scuffle as Terence stumbled into the room. Molly appeared a moment later, dragging the very confused Squire-Duke by his collar.

"She's just in here," Molly shoved him into the room. Terence frowned when he saw Eileen, teary-eyed and pale with bags under her eyes, but Molly smiled. "I'll fetch something easy, broth and bread." She gave a knowing smile. "A double helping, I think." Eileen bit her lip and Terence stared first at the door that Molly slammed behind her and then at his wife.

"Eileen, are you alright?" He asked, all squire's pretense gone. "Why did –what – you aren't sick, are you?" He looked concernedly at the sick basin and her haggard appearance. She actually smiled despite herself, a tired, terrified smile.

"No, not sick." She said, looking at him, counting down the last seconds of his ignorance.

"Terence dear, why don't you sit down a moment."

When Terence sat down next to her on the bed, he was only a concerned husband. But minutes later, when he wavered, when he took her hand, when he kissed her like they were newlyweds again, he was a father.