Maria's POV
Relief washed over me like a tide after I drank the bitter medicine the woman had prepared. Though my body still trembled, I could finally breathe without feeling like my chest was split open. I leaned back against the pillows, drenched in sweat, strands of hair sticking to my temples.
"Better?" Solara asked softly, her hand still steady on my wrist.
I nodded. "A little."
"Good," She said, smiling at me with a warmth that softened her features. "You scared us, Maria."
Jada sat by my side, dabbing my forehead with a damp cloth. Her hands shook, but her voice was firm. "You'll be fine."
The assurance should have calmed me, but I knew better. Nothing was fine about carrying Triton's child. The reality pressed heavily on me.
For a while, three of us sat in silence, broken only by the rattle of the teacups on the table as Solara carried them away. I stared at the unfinished painting on her easel. It painted a storm, and that was how I felt inside, like a storm.
