But she could see the tension in Selik’s shoulders. The way his eyes would drift toward the windows, scanning. The slight tightness around his mouth that meant he was thinking aboutthings he didn’t want to share. She’d noticed it more over the past few weeks. Little moments where he seemed to be bracing for disaster.
After breakfast, Anya took Mikoz outside to play in the small garden they’d planted. She started cleaning up, but Selik gently took the dishes from her hands.
“I will handle this. You should rest.”
“I’m pregnant, not fragile.”
“I am aware. But you were up late last night reorganizing the baby’s room.”
“The shelves were uneven.”
“They were perfectly level. I checked with a measuring device.”
“Visually uneven then.” She leaned against the counter, watching him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Selik.”
He was quiet for a long moment, carefully rinsing a plate. “I am concerned about the future.”
“You mean about the baby?”
“Partially. But also—” He set the plate down and turned to face her. “I worry that I cannot keep you safe. Any of you. That I have built this life on unstable ground and at any moment it could collapse.”
Her heart squeezed. She’d suspected he was carrying fear, but hearing him voice it was different. “You still think the Council will come after Mikoz.”
“I think they are desperate. Right now their only hope is the artificial reproduction program and it is not enough.”
“And you’re afraid.”
“Terrified,” he admitted. “I have already lost one family. The thought of losing another—of losing you?—”
She pulled his head down and kissed him, trying to pour comfort and certainty into the gesture. When she pulled back, she kept her hands on his face.
“We’re not going anywhere. And if the Council comes, we’ll deal with it together. All of us.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It’s not simple. But it’s true.” She kissed him again, softer. “We’re a family now. We fight for each other. And we don’t let fear steal our happiness.”
He pulled her close—as close as her belly would allow—and held her there. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, steady and strong.
“I will do everything in my power to protect you,” he said quietly.
“I know. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
The next fewdays continued in the usual comfortable rhythm.
Selik went out fishing each morning, returning with enough catch to sell at market and feed the family. Anya continued her lessons, expanding them to include navigation and basic engineering with help from Jarrek’s father. Mikoz grew more confident on his feet, toddling around the house and yard with increasing speed.
And she nested.
She wouldn’t admit it, of course. But she organized and cleaned and rearranged with single-minded focus. Selik had built two new rooms at the back of the house and the baby’s room received special attention—she washed the tiny clothes Selik had acquired, folded them precisely, refolded them when they didn’t look right, then washed them again just to be sure.
She made lists. Supplies they needed. Potential names. Backup plans for various scenarios. Anya caught her making a list of lists and didn’t even try to hide her amusement.
“You know the baby won’t care if the blankets are folded or wadded up in a ball, right?”
