I had just returned to the capital with the Dowager Queen from our pilgrimage to Greystone Abbey. I'd left the palace and was heading back to the Gilbert Estate when, right at the gates, a woman's sobbing brought my carriage to a halt.
She had a coquettish face, dressed plainly, with only a single white jade hairpin in her hair, and a belly round and heavy with child. Tears glistened in her eyes as she stared at the carriage, looking so pitiful that passersby had already stopped to gawk.
Through the curtain of the carriage, she watched me sit motionless inside and threw herself to the ground, kowtowing desperately. "My lady, please, give Celeste Acevedo a place to belong."
"The child I carry is the heir's flesh and blood. I am alone in this world. I need no title for myself, but the baby in my womb is the heir's only child. He cannot go unrecognized."
"My lady has been married to the heir for years without bearing a child. Surely you would not stand by and watch the Gilbert line die out? I beg you, show mercy."
"The physician said I'm carrying a boy. If I'm allowed into the household, once the child is born, he can be registered under your name. He'll call you Mother."