The fair hair of the woman darkened as sweat dampened it. She retched with a guttural vigor into the porcelain chamber pot set on trembling legs. Across the room, her attending maid quietly entered with a gentle rattle of the crystal doorknob. Prepared with fresh linens and dress, the older figure stood at her side patiently. Drool trailed from the ill lady's lips between heaves. As the spasms settled, the assistant offered a small towel, a deep frown cut into her face from years of dread.

“Perhaps it’s time to see a doctor, my lady?” With great care, the maid set the linens on the bedside table. 

“No,” came the quiet rasp of the fair-haired woman. “Molly, I was prepared for this.” The lady’s thin fingers trembled against the grounding texture of the cotton. Fabric hungrily soaked up the sweat that drenched her milky skin as she carefully stood. “We’ve been trying almost a year now. I’ve seen all the doctors. They are not going to tell me anything I don’t already know.”

Molly brushed through the golden locks with an heirloom horsehair brush, the lady’s initials emblazoned on a copper stamp against the fine dark wood. An uncomfortable silence had settled over the pair as the ill woman had been cleaned and dressed. However, without interruption, aged hands worked dexterously to pull the woman's hair up into a bun.

“I know, my lady, but I’m just concerned for your well-being.” Molly’s words came out threaded with nervousness.

“Today, I tell Johnathan what he has yearned to hear.” The lady’s words were flat and firm. 

“Already?!” A gasp escaped the maid at her own scolding tone. “I mean- so soon? It has been but a few weeks since the missed cycle, my lady!” 

Softly a sigh escaped the woman, who had mostly recovered from her earlier bout.

“I know. I know.” The fair-haired woman admitted as she suddenly stood.

“Ali- Madam?” Molly’s hands yanked back at the movement, only just finishing the clasp on the heirloom necklace.

Large, dark eyes stared worriedly as the lady of the house calmly drifted through the bedroom, warming from the morning sun. She stood before the intricate long mirror, her face stiff and serious. A worried smile pulled at the maid’s aged face as she came to her lady’s side. Molly leaned in softly, her weathered hand coming to rest on the ruffled collar of the other’s dress. Their hands met, and the lady squeezed the comforting fingers.

“You’re beautiful.” Molly whispered endearingly as they stared into their smiling reflections.