Medina wilted.
Very slightly.
It was still hard for her to wrap her head around the fact that the stranger she met in the rain once was the Grand Duke. That the child that could clearly sleep through anything was his bastard. Medina looked away for a moment before meeting Zannrick's eyes. Fire to ice.
"I'm failing to see what any of this has to do with a woman telling a man she's expecting his child," she said simply. It was easy for her. "I'm only here because everytime I've asked to leave with my child I've been refused," she ground out. Her cheek still stung and she wiped the back of her hand across it, frowning at the small smear of blood.
"Besides, I asked you to tell him!" she hissed, angry. Feeling stupid. Medina paused, took a breath, "I understand. I'm not important. Don't tell him," she started to back away, looking, perhaps a little crestfallen with her recent life choices before she started to walk away, "I don't care."