“Safe.” She arched into me, breath teasing my lips between each word. “Welcome. Anticipated. Desired.”
“And a midwife would second this?”
“Ask Edith. She delivered me.” She smoothed the crease from my brow with her thumb. “Mother wouldn’t send me to a foreign kingdom without one versed in our customs. Did you know some of our women give birth in the ocean?”
“Among the sea creatures?” I scowled, imagining all sorts of slimy beasts lurking in the depths, waiting for a freshly born babe.
“Yes.” She laughed. “Not my mother though, and nor would I. For me, it would be the dragons’ Nest or a proper chamber. I refuse to share my firstborn with an eel.”
A smile broke free as I glanced once more at her belly. “Then nothing changes. We’ll keep the secret until Tallon is dealt with.”
“Agreed.”
“You tell me if anything changes—if you need something.Anything.”
“I would, pregnant or not.” Mirth danced across her face.
She was my wife. My partner. Just as I no longer had to lead on my own, she already knew she would not face this alone. Other men might allow their women to vanish for the length of their pregnancies, but I would not be one of them. I would remain by her side.
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Greaves will not be happy.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nienna
Kallias held me tight that night, nestled with his chest against my back, his arm draped over my side, fingers splayed wide over my womb.
Protective of the little one already.
I woke still in his embrace, secure and warm. It was the first morning in what felt like ages that I actuallywantedto climb out of bed and greet the day.
The day of my Radaanian wedding.
When I slipped out of bed, his silent stare followed me. Not asking me if I was well, or overbearing in his care. He was simply watching, prepared to be there if I needed him.
The morning was a flurry of activity. Edith and Freya bathed me in oils from Draconia, but left my hair loose in the Radaanian style with flowers pinned throughout.
Kallias stayed in our bedchambers, seeking the privacy to get ready while the seamstresses and my maids took over the dressing room. Alma kept me informed on the state of affairs and order of ceremonies, and rushed between rooms to consultFallione. I smiled, seeing our advisors with their heads bent over their papers. Fallione with his sheaf of unbound paper and Alma with her lightweight board and neat stacks. She would adjust her glasses, squinting at his notes and comment before scribbling something down.
I managed to eat a piece of thin bread with jam without my stomach turning. It was enough to get me through the morning. Kallias had asked me in the dead of the night what foods were more appealing, and blearily, I had responded breads and fruit.
I had no doubt there would be bread and fruit at today’s wedding feast.
My dear husband was calculated. He rarely let his emotions get the best of him, always having an invisible guard up. He might come across as cold and unfeeling, but he was thoughtful. Compassionate. There was far more to him than anyone gave him credit for.
Nearing midday, we were both finally prepared for the crowds of Radaan. I was too busy to greet the heirs’ parents and guardians as they arrived, but I would make it a point to see them the following day.
With the last stitch tied off, the seamstress stood back. I took in the woman in the mirror. The mantle already covered my shoulders, the metal cold against my chilled flesh. The intricate golden scales caught the light, glittering like a thousand tiny suns above the green swaths below. A myriad of small flowers blossomed along my side, winding across my waist before spilling down the opposite hip. Pinks, purples, and blues splattered my gown with color, making me look like some fine nymph.
The gown was an homage to Veridis, Goddess of Life. My lips tilted upward in a secret smile, knowing what lay beneath the folds of the dress. The life that was ours alone.
Fallione’s voice broke the quiet. “Is the queen ready?”
“It suits you,” Alma murmured, board clutched to her chest. “‘Tis the best we could do in such limited time.”
“It’s nothing short of perfection. Thank you.” I picked at the gauzy hem. A single slit ran up to my waist, revealing matching breeches beneath, tucked into light calfskin boots.
“She’s ready,” Alma called as I stepped off the stool.
