Evylin gaped at him, her mouth falling open. “How did you know?”
His hand grazed her stomach. “I feel what you’re feeling, remember?” he teased. “You’ve been extra tired, irritable, and wistful.”
“Irritable?” Evylin poked a finger into his rib, causing him to lurch beneath her with laughter. “I’m a delight when I’m with child.”
“I wouldn’t begin to deny that.”
She poked him firmly again.
“What was that for?” he demanded.
“For spoiling my surprise,” she said, giving him another poke.
Deckard grabbed her waist tightly, allowing him to gain the advantage of rolling her over onto the drying grass. He interrupted her next attack with another kiss, even as their laughter shook them. Gradually, his kisses served their purpose well, settling them into the serenity of affection.
“I take it you’re hoping for a girl again?” she remarked as they lay contentedly in each other’s embrace.
Without a word, Deckard nodded.
“Why?”
He traced the contours of her face with his finger as if committing every detail to memory. “Because she would be just like you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She’d be your daughter, wouldn’t she?”
She smirked. “I do believe so.”
He arched his right eyebrow. “Then she’d be perfect.”
Somehow, the compliment made Evylin blush, even after all their years together. “What if it’s another boy?” she asked, her voice softer than normal.
“Then I’ll love him as much as I love Ryen, and he’ll be just as wonderful.”
“Ryen is pretty wonderful, isn’t he?” she asked proudly. Though only a year old, their little boy was already sweet and tenderhearted. She hoped he was having fun with his cousins in their absence. He’d cried at their departure, and it took every bit of her will to walk out the door.
Deckard smiled. “That he is.”
“Your mother mentioned that he resembles you at his age—he loves stories and is always thoughtful toward others.” Evylin had the sudden urge to embrace her son, wishing they would have brought him with them.
“Really?” Deckard said, curling a few damp waves around his finger. “He reminds me more of you. Headstrong and far too clever for this world. If he possesses magic, I’m confident he’ll become a Warrior.”
Looking up into Deckard’s gentle gaze, she found herself hoping that their son wouldn’t be magical. In fact, she hoped none of their children would be. The weight of being a Mage or a Warrior was just as significant as the rewards it offered. While she dreamed of them living as long as she and Deckard, she also yearned for them to enjoy lives with less responsibility.
Evylin ran her hand along Deckard’s arm as she rested in his embrace. “Jonn,” she whispered.
“Yes, Evie?”
“I learned something recently.”
“What’s that?”
“My ‘more’ has changed.”
The pinch in Deckard’s brow appeared, and she smiled. “Don’t worry,” she said, reaching up to smooth the crease away. “You’re still part of it.”
“I’m relieved,” he said with a chuckle. “I’d hate to think you were weary of me.”
