Lilibet’s eyes widened, and she immediately burrowed deeper under the covers like a small animal seeking refuge. The soft sheets rustled around her as she pulled them up to her chin, leaving only her dark curls and bright eyes visible.
“Why are you hiding from Numa?” Jolie’s voice was warm with amusement, her fingers finding their way to Lilibet’s ribs where she began a gentle but relentless tickling assault. Our daughter’s resistance crumbled instantly, dissolving into a cascade of delighted squeals.
“I don’t like baths,” Lilibet declared with dramatic conviction, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout that would have been more intimidating if not for the lingering smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The recent development of bath resistance had been weighing on my mind, but Jolie reassured me that this was simply another phase in our daughter’s growth.
She was transforming before our eyes, evolving from the sweet, compliant youngling I’d first met into a fierce little person with her own set of opinions, preferences, and an iron will. Her stubborn streak ran deep, and her capacity for negotiation would have impressed even the most skilled Alliance ambassadors. And somehow, we found ourselves loving her even more fiercely for every ounce of independence she displayed.
“But I thought Pop Pop was planning to take you to ride the bhiza today,” I said, invoking the creatures that Lilibet described as being like the Earth horses from her mother’s stories, except blessed with six legs and elegant spiraled horns. “You know the stable masters won’t let anyone near the bhiza without being properly clean first.”
The transformation was instantaneous. Lilibet’s eyes lit up like twin stars, her pout vanishing as if it had never existed. “Yaaaaay!” She shrieked, scrambling up from the tangle of bed sheets with the energy of a small whirlwind. Her bare feet hit the stone floor with soft pattering sounds as she raced toward the door, her nightgown billowing behind her like tiny wings. “Numa! Numa! I’m ready for my bath!” She called out, voice echoing through the corridors as she disappeared from view, leaving only the sound of Numa’s delighted laughter in her wake.
The moment Lilibet’s footsteps faded, I turned to find Jolie watching me with that soft smile I’d fallen in love with so long ago. The morning light painted golden highlights across her hair, and I couldn’t resist reaching out to tuck a wayward strand behind her ear.
“Finally,” I murmured, my voice rough as I pulled her closer, my hand finding the curve of her waist beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.
She came willingly, melting against me as our lips met in a kiss that spoke of lazy mornings and quiet contentment. Her mouth was warm and sweet, tasting faintly of the mint tea she’d sipped before bed to keep the nausea at bay. I savored the familiar softness of her lips, the way she sighed against my mouth as my fingers traced the curve of her cheek.
When we broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine, her breath warm against my skin. “Good morning, my heart,” she whispered, her hand coming up to rest against my chest, right over the steady beat that belonged entirely to her.
I captured her lips again, deeper this time, pouring all the love and gratitude I felt into the pressure of my mouth against hers. Here, in the sanctuary of our bed, with our daughter’s laughter echoing faintly from down the hall and another on the way, I had everything I’d never dared to dream of.
“I love you,” I murmured against her lips, the words as natural as breathing.
“I love you,” Jolie whispered, her voice soft as my hand came to rest protectively over her stomach, fingers splaying wide across the gentle curve where our baby grew.
“I think Lilibet is right. Your belly does seem a little bigger,” I murmured, marveling at the subtle change.
She laughed, but there was something haunted lurking in the depths of her emerald eyes.
I caught her chin between my fingers, tilting her face so she couldn’t escape my gaze. “What is it, my love?”
Jolie worried her lower lip between her teeth, the gesture achingly familiar, but remained silent as stone.
“I can hear you thinking,” I prodded gently.
Her eyes suddenly became liquid pools of vulnerability, shimmering as her trembling hand reached up to press against my chest, directly above the steady rhythm of my heart. “I know you had a meeting with Vraxxan and Merkit yesterday.”
“I did,” I admitted, keeping my voice carefully neutral. The status of theEdenhad been weighing heavily on my mind. Since we’d returned to Zarpazia, we’d taken a few trips into the stars, venturing out to survey nearby systems and check on various outposts, but nothing that fell within the mission parameters of the Alliance rescue of humans, a calling that I knew burned in the hearts of every crew member.
“I know you probably want to go back aboard theEden,” Jolie said softly, her words barely above a whisper. “I love being on theEdentoo, but....” Her gaze faltered, guilt flashing across her beautiful features like storm clouds across a clear sky. “I just don’t think it’s the best place to raise a child.”
A single tear slipped from her dark lashes, trailing down her cheek, as if she feared her honest words had somehow disappointed me.
“I agree,” I told her. “Which is why I met with Vraxxan and Merkit. I’m stepping down. Vraxxan has officially made Merkit the new captain of theEden.”
She stared at me, her emerald eyes narrowing as she processed my words, searching my face for any hint of doubt or regret. “You’re giving up captaincy? Just like that?”
“Just like that,” I grinned and kissed her. She pulled back, a mix of surprise and something else—respect, maybe—flickering across her features. “Besides, Vraxxan offered me a new job.”
“What?” Her voice rose with curiosity.
“Right Hand of the King,” I told her, watching her reaction carefully. She seemed shocked at first, but a flash of relief crossed her features.
“Isn’t that Vysar’s job?” Jolie asked, her brow furrowing slightly, creating small creases above her nose.
“It was.” When Vraxxan became king and restored his father from exile, Vysar had chosen not to return as a ruler, but as support for his son, and so the role of Right Hand of the King was established to act as advisor and confidant. “But since mating with Marcia, Vysar wants to retire and play with his grandchildren.”
Jolie laughed, filling the space between us with warmth. Vysar’s favorite thing was spending time with Lilibet, constantly spoiling her with treats and stories.
