036. Sick.
Cordelia rolls over in the almost bed of straw she's been provided to sleep on. She is miserable. The pregnancy is certain now, but the morning sickness hasn't yet begun to fade. She wishes she could at least have better accommodations, but the Marquis is not used to treating anyone but himself, and perhaps his son, with luxuries.
She rubs her belly, trying to fight the stiffness in her cold muscles. This room she is trapped in never seems warm, and the sun never touches farther than halfway down the wall. Higher than Cordelia reach, especially in her nauseated state, even to press just a hand into the sunlight.
The sickness seems to slip briefly away from her and she attempts to sit up in the reprieve. A few moments upright sound wonderful, even if it isn't as welcome as the idea of sunshine once more touching her face.
Trying to distract herself from her uncomfortable state, Cordelia thinks of the baby she is carrying. Without having met it, she knows she will love her child. She wishes her love were worth more though. Even now she realizes that the love she has for her child will not be enough to break the Marquis plans or even weaken them. Her child will be a Gray Wolf, just like her. It is precisely what the Marquis wants and she doesn't know of any way to free herself or her most precious unborn child.
If only there was a way for her to fight, some way to escape.
But as she shivers in her dank cell, the sickness and slight swelling of her belly her only company, she knows this is a fool's hope.
Quietly Cordelia begins to cry, her pain and heartache at the world she's forced to bring her child into, overwhelming her.