She nodded. “And there’s still much to prepare for.”
I braced my forearms against the wall, sipping the bitter brew. Fields below faded into shades of slate and ink, the harvested plots pale against darker swaths alive with growth.
“You didn’t serve wine tonight.”
I swallowed another mouthful of kahve and shook my head. “They’ll drink enough tomorrow. No need to dull them early.”
“Kallias.”
Withering fields, I was doomed. That tone sealed my fate. She knew.
I exhaled and set my mug down. She stood close, wrapped in a blue gown so deep it appeared black beneath the sky. Gemsscattered through her hair seized moonlight like fallen stars. She stepped into me, setting her cup aside. Unease shimmered in her eyes. Her lip caught between her teeth as her hands pressed to my chest, sliding down my arms until her fingers threaded with mine.
She guided my palm to her belly.
“I know.” The words tore from me, raw and reverent.
She laughed softly, startled and warm, holding my hand there as her other cupped my cheek. “Of course you knew.”
“Your cycle is eight days late, and the sickness has begun.” My voice steadied as truth spilled out. “That’s why you haven’t been eating.”
“The verythoughtof food turns my stomach.”
“And wine can addle its mind.” I met her gaze. “Which is why I had none served.”
“Overconsumptioncan harm the babe.”
My arm twitched, instinct urging retreat. She shook her head, a gentle smile easing her features.
“No hiding from this, Kallias. You may not feel the tiny kicks yet, but there’s no escape.” Her voice softened. “The life within me is yours.”
My chest swelled until breathing hurt. Joy crested, so exquisite it hurt. “It can’t be.”
“Are you accusing me of bedding another?”
“I would kill him,” I snarled, claiming her with a fierce, brutal kiss.
She was mine—myqueen—carryingmychild. I would share her with no one.
She yielded with a breathless moan, arms circling my neck. My hands anchored her, fingers splayed at her waist and nape as my mouth traced her jaw to the edge of her bandage. I pressed my lips to the cloth, anger roaring awake, insatiable and hungry. Tallon would pay.
“You’d better not be teasing me,” she growled, nails biting into my neck.
A laugh escaped as I lifted her onto the wall. She gasped, leaning back, blonde waves spilling free. I sank to my knees, gaze fixed on the faint swell beneath her navel. My hands closed around each leg, holding fast though I knew she was steady. She wouldn’t fall.
Our child.
Her fingers threaded into my hair as I stared, reverent. Fabric shifted with her breath, her quiet laughter trembling against the night.
“You’ll have to wait before you can see it.” She leaned sideways, one hand still cradling my head. Flaxen hair spilled like a waterfall over her shoulder, eyes bright with unshed tears.
“And you’ll have to wait before I bed you.” I nipped at her thigh through the cloth, and her grip sharpened in warning.
“‘Til tomorrow.”
“Until the babe is born.”
She snapped upright, thighs closing. My body jerked back just in time as she hauled me to my feet by my hair.
