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I snuggle into his arms, feeling his power and his protection.
“Believe it or not, I have a plan,” he murmurs against my neck. “It is a good one.”
Over the following days and weeks, Krush follows through on his plan. I busy myself with the technological tasks he assigns me, and I wait to hear what he has in mind. He is gone quite often, sometimes for many hours. He says it is no longer safe for me to go out, and I agree. Lyric found me without issue because she knows me.
We moved the very next day to a different shack, and then to another, and another. We are taking great pains not to be tracked or seen. Krush’s disguises are hopefully more adequate than mine.
I sit inside my little hovel, and I hope that Krush knows what he is doing, while knowing that he almost certainly does not know what he is doing. Krush was never trained as a spy or scum. He was trained to be a privileged royal served by others.
Soon there is no doubt that I am pregnant. My body is changing in a myriad of subtle and uncomfortable ways. It is not entirely my own anymore. I am sharing it with another life. It is too early to feel motion, but it is not too early to feel its presence.
After a long day of tinkering with gadgets—something I used to very much enjoy, but which now feels like a solitary chore, Krush comes home long after dark.
“Hello, my love," he purrs, wrapping me in his arms and planting a careful kiss on my lips. He really looks good with dark hair. It sets off his silver eyes in a way that truly makes them flash. I feel my belly quiver in response to his massive physical presence, and the simple relief I get from being with him.
"Where have you been? I've been hearing drones all day.”
“Busy,” he says, pulling me down to sit me on his knee. I cuddle into him and let myself be comforted by his strength. Krush is my world now. He is outside me, but he is inside me always. Not just in my heart, but in my belly. I am growing his essence and will always be connected to him. “I am making great strides.”
“Well, I am sitting here, getting fat and bored.”
“You are not fat. You are swelling with our infant.”
“That does not sound better.” I have not complained, because I know that complaining is weak and beneath me, but I am terrified of what is to happen in the coming weeks and months. I will be torn asunder, and the innocent life now protected in my belly will become vulnerable to all the terrible atrocities of this world.
“I am building our future. In a matter of months, before the baby is born, we will occupy the royal stronghold. The baby will be guarded by royal soldiers with absolute loyalty. We will be safe, Jax. You and our sons will be safe.”
“Sons?”
"We will do this again, will we not?” He splays his long fingers ever so carefully across my belly. “This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“Easy for you to say that. Especially when the thing won’t come out of your belly.”
“I know you are afraid. For the moment, you feel exposed and alone. Neither of those feelings are conducive to a healthy pregnancy. That is why we are going to be moving again for the last time.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“It’s necessary. And it's the last time."
“Stop promising me things you can’t promise, Krush.”
He smiles and shifts me off his knee. “I have something to show you. Actually, someone.”
Krush goes to the door and calls to someone outside. I am immediately pissed off. Nobody can know where we are. Absolutely nobody.
Krush ushers another korabi into the room. The first thing I notice about this one is that his hair is short like Krush’s. Other than that, he is dark haired and blue skinned. I can see scarring across his shoulders and back. Krush has brought a fuzkin’ korabi exile to our door.
“Who is this?”
“This is Bork. He was dishonorably discharged before my father’s death. Megaris is swimming with korabi soldiers looking for a worthy cause. Can you imagine a more worthy cause than me?”
“I guess not,” I smile. He looks so proud of himself. I am glad to see it. I do not like a crushed Krush. I like him cocky and arrogant. Even if I think he is being spectacularly stupid. I have to trust him. I cannot do this on my own, and I know Krush has a plan of some kind, though he has been remarkably cagey about it.
“Do you know what the best thing about Bork is?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“There’s many more of him. Hundreds. Thousands of them. The politics of the palace mean that good korabi soldiers with real honor have no place. They are forced out. Some leave Megaris, some turn to good civilian work in the korabi quarter. Others, like Bork, choose to make the real Megaris their home.”
