Cato's research becomes a viral sensation for the media.

They went crazy over Cato prior to his discoveries on his expedition, but now with his research going public and an impending wedding to Gemma, they've been after him like hawks.

Cato leans against the entryway to his estate as some of the servants wheel his bags to his driver. "It'll only be for two weeks," he whispers to me. "A couple public appearances. That's all they want."

"They think you're in love with Gemma," I nearly gag on her name.

"I don't love her," he kisses me in the open. By now, most of the estate must be aware that I'm doubling as Cato's midnight mistress. "I love you."

Those three words warm me up. "I love you more than the amount of stars in the sky."

His green irises twinkle at those words, exploding like supernovas. He's been waiting for those three words for so long. I don't think anyone has said them to him in forever, not since his mother died.

"You can call if you ever need anything," he whispers. "Or if you miss me, because I know you will."

I roll my eyes. "How arrogant."

"And hold down the estate for me," he adds. "You have free reign."

"I know," I giggle and wrap my arms around his torso. I think he'll miss me more than I'll miss him.

With a quick kiss to my lips, Cato exits the estate. He constantly checks over his shoulder to make sure I'm still there, as if both of us savour every last moment of each other's presence. These past few weeks, we've been connected at the hip. Or rather, literally connected. We've been hungry for each other, hardly ever famished.

It's a love that's ever growing.

The car disappears out of the estate's gates, and I can only think of him. Even his smell seems to linger in every room.

A hand clasps onto my shoulder. I jolt, only to catch the gentle eyes of Clotilde standing behind me.

"You are the center of that boy's world, oh my word," she mutters to me. "I still need to give his ass a whooping for breaking the hands-off policy."

I laugh at this. "I'd like to see that."

"I'm sure you would. Now I'm pretty sure Georgia is expecting you in the kitchen?"

These last few weeks have been a never ending honeymoon. Cato began dismissing me from duties nearly every single day in order for me to spend time with him. Most of the time it was us doing research in his study. He noticed me stumble on words, and then those sessions transformed into tutoring. My reading has become more adequate now, as well as my writing.

Some nights we go to his observatory. Some nights we go straight to bed.

But this is the first time in months that we haven't been together for over a day.

Two weeks without him.

That's all.

Annie's already in the kitchen chopping peppers when she catches me entering. "Look who's arrived to finally do her job," she smirks with a sly wiggle of her brows.

"It's not like I asked him to keep dismissing me," I retort, taking my spot beside her.

"Well, you two aren't necessarily quiet," she grins.

My face reddens more than the red pepper in front of Annie. "You don't mean...?"

"The entire estate knows? Oh hell yeah, they do, but we're not allowed to talk about Cato's, er, extracurricular activities outside of the estate. Gemma won't even know."

Gods no.

Annie laughs. "You're blushing so much right now. Just look at this." She holds up the half-sliced red pepper up to my face.

"How come you didn't tell me?" I hiss.

"Like I'm gonna tell Cato Leveque's mistress to shut up. That won't go over well," she nudges me with her elbow. "Don't worry. Most of us know to avoid walking down Cato's corridor at night."

"That's not helping me right now," I mutter, hiding my reddened face behind my palm.

Georgia notices my arrival, tossing an apron across the kitchen. Thank goodness for her eagerness to get me to work, else I'd really dissolve into a puddle of embarrassment. I fumble with the apron in my arms before catching it.

"Maureen!" she orders, "Can you grab some asparagus from the pantry?"

I frown at her need for me to be rushed. "How come we're making so much for dinner? Cato's not even around."

"Oh, this isn't for Cato," Georgia smiles. "I got permission from him to treat the staff around here. We're cooking for us."

Georgia never misses the opportunity to craft a feast, but I never suspected Cato to agree to spending so much delectable luxurious foods on the servants of the estate. Sure, he pays for us to eat, but it's never something as grand as what Georgia serves him.

Maybe he is happier these days.

I head over to the pantry and open the door. It's a large room, cooled to preserve produce and other spices. I step inside and begin looking for the lanky green vegetable.

A strange scent crosses my nose.

Maybe it's the spices, or some of the exotic fruit that's stored in here but... Bloody hell. It's nauseating.

I take another deep breath in, and my stomach takes control of every muscle in my body in order to keep my breakfast from escaping me.

I have to go.

I burst out of the pantry, reaching for the garbage in the kitchen, and hurl.

Annie's behind me in a second, holding back my blonde braid from my face. Georgia holds me upright as another pulse of nausea courses through me.

I grip the tin can with white knuckles as I lift my head. "I'm alright..." I mutter.

"Damn hell, you are not," Georgia shakes her head and sets her palm on my back. "Go and get some rest. I'll inform Clotilde."

I nod my head.

"I'll help her out," Annie quickly chides. "I don't want to clean up her vomit in the halls."

Despite being a servant, I rarely fall ill, unless the flu is running through the estate. That only happens every so often. Once, back at Cato's parents' estate, Augustine accidentally gave us food poisoning, to which he then blamed the other servant girl, Louisa, for not double checking the expiration date.

Annie nearly pushes me into Cato's bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She's not allowed to enter in here without Cato's permission, considering this is his private quarters.

Her brown eyes remain wide, curious, like two full moons. "You're not sick, are you?"

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"Did you feel ill before?"

"There was something in the pantry that just smelled rancid. It probably triggered some sort of stomach bug."

She raises her brow at me, not saying anything more.

"Gods, Annie, what else could it be?"

She stares at me, dropping her jaw a little bit. "When did you have your last period?"

"What does that have to do with—" I stop.

No.

Please no, no, no, no.

Annie takes a step towards me, cupping my cheek so I look into her eyes. Tears sting my eyes. No, I can't. I can't be.

"It's just the flu," I force myself to say. "I'm sure of it."

"How careful have you and Cato been—?"

"It's the flu," I say again, then tear myself away from her. "It'll be gone by tomorrow."

A knock disrupts our conversation before Annie can continue interrogating me. At once, I want to hide away. I want Annie to leave. I want Cato to come back so I can pretend that my life is stuck in that honeymoon bubble we created for ourselves.

Clotilde enters in, her ancient eyes softening at the sight of me. "I have been informed that you're feeling ill, my dear?"

Before I can answer, Annie speaks for me. "It's just the flu, madame," Annie responds, her brown eyes meeting mine. "Apparently Cato wasn't feeling well last night, either."

That's very much a lie to cover-up the truth that's unfolding before me. It has to be a stomach flu.

It just can't be the other.

"That boy, not telling me about his health," she shakes her head in disappointment. "Very well. Is there anything you need? A tea? Soup?"

I shake my head.

"Just call me if you need anything," she gives me a warm smile, studying both Annie and I, almost as if she can see right through the hoax.

Clotilde shuts the door. I take a seat on Cato's large bed, fighting back the eye-stinging tears that blur my vision. It has to be the flu. Sure my period was late, but it always skips from time-to-time. Maybe this is one of those times.

Annie sits beside me and rubs my back. "Look, maybe it is just the flu," she assures.

I nod my head. "And if it's not?"

"We'll deal with that in a few days," she whispers. "Cato's gone for two weeks. That gives us some time to figure things out."

Days pass, and every morning, I find myself hurling into the toilet of Cato's ensuite bathroom. Annie checks up on me first at the break of dawn, only to find me exhausted and ill. These symptoms crash onto me faster than anything before. How could Cato and I be so reckless? So stupid?

I feel like I'm losing a game I just won.

After a week, everything remains the same.

Annie sneaks into Cato's bedroom near midnight, handing me a small box. "Here. I got Calvin to fetch it for you while he was running errands."

Thank goodness for Cato's tutoring sessions, for without them, I'd have no idea what the box says.

"A pregnancy test?" I breathe.

"Then at least we'll know."

I close the door to the bathroom, pregnancy test in hand. If I'm pregnant and this isn't some sort of virus, then the child is Cato's. It's a child Cato will never be able to claim, to give the life he deserves. I'm nothing but a mistress to him unless he weds me. It's a child with a destiny that will match mine, a child that deserves so much more.

So I pee on the stick.

And wait.

Until the walls crumble around me, and all I see is stars.

It's a child from a love so unstoppable, so grand. A love that reaches the heavens and back again, only to create the most beautiful creation hand-sculpted from stardust and beauty. We touched galaxies, universes, new worlds for this child.

Our child.

A positive test is all I can see.

-----

I may or may not be a sucker for the pregnancy trope? But don't worry. There's still at least ten more (planned) chapters to go :) Things aren't always gonna be sunshine and rainbows here.

Also, I have a day off today so that's why there's such an early update.

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