Elara's POV
I woke to the sound of curtains being drawn back, letting pale morning light spill across my chambers. The sudden brightness made my stomach lurch, and I pressed my hand over my mouth, willing myself not to be sick.
Not again. Not this morning.
The nausea had been getting worse, not better. Every morning for weeks now, the same routine. Wake up, fight down the urge to vomit, force myself to face another day of pretending everything was normal. Another day of hiding the secret growing inside me.
"Your Majesty." Lena's voice was quiet, professional. Distant. "Your bath is ready. The council meets in two hours."
I forced myself to sit up slowly, taking careful breaths through my nose. The nausea was worst in the mornings, a rolling wave that made even the thought of food unbearable. Gradually it would ease as the day went on, settling into a dull discomfort I could manage. But those first few hours after waking felt like torture.
"Thank you, Lena."
