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My heart aches. “I can’t imagine. Even just knowing how I felt when you were gone, when we hadn’t heard from you…” I shake my head, shuddering until the sound of his heart against my ear settles me.
“Yeah, me neither,” he says, running his hands through his hair.
My heart lurches.
In a moment, I can see them. Our child. A thousand versions of them, a thousand combinations of me and Evander, playing and laughing, giggling before my eyes.
My heart swells, and I realize I haven’t let it yet. Haven’t allowed myself to be excited, not with Evander gone. Not with the fear creeping in my mind that I’d never get to see him lift our child onto his shoulders or tuck them into bed.
Excitement, for the first time, barrels through me. Fear, too. Dread, really. But it all sort of feels the same, squirming in my stomach and filling me with butterflies.
“What is it?” Evander asks, his sea-green eyes swooping down on me, drunk with our reunion.
I bite my lip, grinning.
But then Evander is grabbing my waist, rolling on top of me.
“You’re looking at me like you want to go for round two,” he says, mischief glittering in his eyes.
I laugh, and he presses a kiss to my collarbone, making me dizzy.
The words hang on my tongue, but even as he kisses me, something feels wrong about saying them. Not here. Not now, at least.
Evander and I are going to have a baby. There’s a child that will giggle and laugh and walk and have its own thoughts and opinions growing inside of me, and for some reason that doesn’t seem like the sort of thing to tell your husband in the throes of desire.
No, this is the sort of thing you plan out. The kind of thing you plot, devise a clever way to surprise him with. I’ve been so caught up in the worry that I would never get the chance to tell him, I haven’t even considered how I would tell him.
But then Evander kisses me again, and I realize it will be a little bit before my mind can concentrate properly.
CHAPTER 15
BLAISE
I’m pacing outside of the Othian palace library, trying to work up the nerve to ask Asha, Queen of Naenden, on a stroll.
The funny thing is, this is the sort of thing I would have found simple only a few months ago. I’m aware there are people whose consciousnesses attack them with anxiety when it comes to initiating social interactions, but of my many and various struggles, that has never been one of them.
But I’m usually not extending a social invitation with the intention of luring someone I like to their kidnapping, either, so perhaps that’s the difference.
As I pace, trying to come up with a smooth way to lure Queen Asha out of the palace, the portrait of Princess Olwen that sits on the wall across from the library stares down upon me in judgment. That’s exactly what Evander’s pompous sister would be doing if she were here, and not holed up in a tower made of vines. Vines that probably have perfectly symmetrical flowers sprouting out of them.
I pointedly ignore her.
I suppose I could simply walk up to Queen Asha, put on a disarmingly boisterous smile, and tell her I need to stretch my legs after a long while cooped up in the Queen of Mystral’s dungeon, and would she like to tag along?
But wouldn’t that seem strange to her? I only just arrived at the palace two nights ago, and surely the queen would expect me to want to spend time with Ellie over her. Perhaps I could mention that I would have rather taken Ellie, but she was busy with royalty-adjacent tasks.
Except that would be rude, and just as likely to dissuade the queen from joining me.
I’ve about run through all my good ideas when the library doors open and someone slams into me.
“Watch where you’re going, why don’t y—oh!” I straighten, clearing my throat before I can spew a host of curses at the very woman I’m hoping to charm. “I apologize, Your Majesty. I didn’t realize it was you. I should have been watching where I was going,” I say, giving a bouncing curtsy to the queen, who looks as dazed as I feel.
She flits her hand to the side. “Don’t worry about it. It’s my fault, anyway. One would think at this point I’d remember to turn my head to look, but alas.” She gestures to the side of her face that’s missing an eye.
I’m unable to stifle my laugh, which is unfortunate. Not because the queen seems the type to be offended easily, but because it would be much more convenient for me if she weren’t so stinking likable.
“Actually, I’m glad to have run into you,” Asha says. “Well, not literally, of course. But here we are. I’ve been huddled over a pile of books as tall as I am for the past several days. My back might never straighten to its full height again. Every time I try to make my way out of the palace for a stroll, the portraits of the princess always make me feel like she’s scoffing at me for going the wrong direction. Think you could point me toward the gardens?”
