David’s jaw tightened, and Sean watched Anna slide her hand over his under the table.
“Just because his weapon is his voice doesn’t mean it takes little effort,” Sean said quietly.
She snorted.
“Have some grace,” he said, eyeing her.
Bel’s lips pursed, and she said nothing more. Sean repressed a sigh, weighing the odds of her picking a fight after dinner versus resorting to a full-on silent treatment. He was so tired of fighting with her about this.
Sean turned toward his father. “I’ll probably have to go into Viterra to secure outposts.”
Kywyn nodded. “I’ll go with you. We’ll make an exploration party.” He glanced at Isobel. “Sound good, Bel?”
Lips still pressed tight, Bel gripped the edge of the table and her pallid complexion went waxen.
Autumn jerked forward. “Isobel?”
Eyes wide, Blaire dashed from her chair toward Bel. “Lady Isobel? Are you all right?”
“I’m going to be sick.”
Blaire set a healing hand on Bel’s cheek, then snapped her hand back as soon as their skin touched. “Bless the Mother,” she muttered.
Isobel wrenched from her seat and hurtled toward the balcony. Sean followed, bewildered, and watched as she fetched up over the railing and vomited. He rushed to hold her hair back as she retched again. Autumn tripped over the threshold to help, and Kywyn and Blaire hovered in the doorway.
“Bel?” Sean asked.
She gagged again, and he looked to Autumn for guidance.
“She’s with child,” Blaire said, tone somber.
With…child?
Before he could reconcile it, before he could even process it, Isobel burst into tears. The sky split open, and rain poured, soaking through Sean’s clothes.
He didn’t notice.
All the blood, the thoughts, the very sanity drained from his head. She was…pregnant.
It couldn’t be.
She’d said it was impossible, and he’d been taking that disgusting contraceptive tonic Cole had given him.
Isobel straightened, tears still dripping, mixing with the rain. She let him and Autumn coax her back inside, where Blaire gave her a vial of some green liquid and Kywyn draped a blanket over her wet shoulders. Behind it all, David leaned still as a statue against the archway, arms crossed, his unwavering gaze on Sean.
Isobel sank into a nearby chair. “Well, if this isn’t absolute proof that I’m going to die soon.”
Mouth slack, Sean stared at her. “What doesthatmean?”
“The Mother knows I need an heir, Sean. Meléan’s line won’t end with me.”
He rubbed his forehead, and his next word came out on a tired breath of air: “What?”
Autumn settled onto the chair beside Bel. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Isobel’s wet eyes found her. “You don’t believe that.”
Sean looked to his father, at a loss, fighting a shiver as his wet clothes soaked into his skin.
