Page 54 of Many Ruined Vows on a Forbidden Frolic

I narrow my eyes. “How long have they spoken with you?”

“Don’t worry,” she whispers. “I bid them not to tell. But on one condition.” I roll my eyes, guessing what comes next. “You must tell me if you’re pregnant.”

“Please, Lei-Lei,” Ilrunysanna chimes, grabbing my free hand. “Tell us you are!”

I brush their hands away and tilt my head toward my shoulder, batting my lashes coyly.

A vivid imagining flutters through my mind, the shape of it so familiar that it almost feels like a memory for how often it visits me. It’s so visceral, I can feel the weight of the foal in my arms, their little fairy slippers still forming hooves at the tips. I hear their sweet sounds, a mix of elven baby coos and centaur whinnies. It’s clear as day, and yet, I see nothing of their features–not clearly, at least.

In my heart, I know this is the meddling of the Wise Ones, gifting me a glimpse of the future. The fate-roots may not speak to me as eloquently as they do Mother, but they’ve found ways to nudge me in the right direction all my life.

“She’s brighter than usual,” Ilrunysanna observes, squinting at me. “She must be pregnant.”

“Psh,” Feivryn waves her off. “That’s because she’s freshly pollina—”

“Feivryn!” I whisper-shriek, my gaze shooting to where Father and Pikr have paused to talk a short distance ahead of us. “There’s no baby, okay?”

Feivryn narrows her eyes, but I’m not lying. Even if my vision of the foal comes true, there’s no indication of when, so whatever her silly plants are whispering to her, it’s mere gossip at this point.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Mother’s voice slices through the tension. She stands in the middle of the entryway, leaning on a blisteroak pillar for support.

“Dearest,” Father exclaims, rushing to wrap her hand around his arm.

“Bring your conversation inside, girls.” Mother accepts his help, but her unwavering gaze is on me. “I would like news of the baby as well.”

An audible gasp bounces through the room. Father’s face pales. Pikr goes utterly still. My cheeks are so hot I’m sure I look like the wine-red sequioaoak leaves littering the throne room floor.

“Mother,” I hiss. My sisters erupt with peels of laughter.

“Truly?” Father takes a half-step toward me. His color has returned, and there’s a gleam in his eyes, though the smile doesn’t reach his lips. “You’re with sapling?”

Pikr appears at my side, and I lean into his steady warmth. Funnily enough, he’s looking at me with curiosity as well.

I sigh. My secret vision is spoiled, but at least everyone appears excited.

“That hasn’t happened yet.” I resist the urge to put a hand on my belly, for how silly that would be. “But it appears the fate-roots wish me to know it will, in the future.”

“That’s wonderful, darling,” Mother breathes, one hand pressed to her bosom. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Indeed.” Father nods, clearing his throat. His gaze lands on Pikr for the first time since the baby was mentioned. “Wonderful news.”

“What news?” Ilrunysanna tosses her hands in the air. “There is no blooming news!”

“Maybe they told me so that I could practice patience with you daft fools.” I scowl around the room. “This family could certainly use some patience.”

Mother gives me a pitying look, though I don’t think she’s the least bit sorry.

That’s all right. I glance at Pikr, who’s smiling down at me. Whenever our foal arrives, be it next year or next century, they will be loved so deeply by this nosy family.

Epilogue

Pikquarrys

177 Years Later

Golden ribbons of light hang low in the sky. I reach up and touch one, swirling my finger in the particles. They crackle and pop, sparkling like tiny stars streaking across the night sky. Peridotys shrieks with the high, tinny laugh of a sapling. He snaps his hands together, trying to catch them.

My mate’s giggle joins his, and I turn to kiss the top of her head. The imprint of her body against my barrel and the sound of our foal’s happiness fill me with warmth.