How much longer could she hold on?
More than thirty-nine days he'd been gone. A long time when the world was breathing its last.
Every morning Onaria woke was now a surprise because she knew her days were numbered. It made her angry and sad. Sad for what could have been.
Her hand drifted down to her belly, and she prayed, to no one. The gods didn't exist. Those who turned to them in their final hours found themselves disappointed. There was no higher power out there that could help.
But how she wished there was. She'd give anything to offer the life sprouting in her belly a chance to survive.
The moment she'd realized she carried his child was clouded in hysteria. She'd just finished throwing up, realized she'd not gotten her menses, and in between the joy of realizing she was pregnant, she cried because she knew the chances of it being born were slim.