Page 5

“What is that?” I glanced over, curious, as I finished buttoning a leather vest and tucking a muted, rose-colored blouse into my trousers.

Draven’s expression was distracted. He was tightening some sort of a sash and criss-crossing leather straps over his chest and shoulders.

When he was finished, he reached for Medra.

I gaped as he began trying to stuff the squirming, cranky infant into the pocket he had created against his torso.

“Here, let me,” I said quickly, stepping forward and taking Medra from him.

“It’s a carrier,” he answered, a little grumpily. “For an infant.”

“Ah, I see.” I tried to quell the twitching in my lip and carefully did not make eye contact as I lifted Medra over the pouch and tried to dangle her legs so that they would drop into the holes just so.

“She’s so squirmy,” I complained.

In answer, Medra let out a shriek of protest and kicked her legs as I tried to lower her in.

“If she’d just hold still a moment,” I complained.

Now it was Draven’s turn to hide a smile. Not very successfully.

I tried again, waiting until Medra had finished getting her kicks out.

“There.” I looked with satisfaction as the baby’s legs finally slid into the waiting holes, her bottom settling into the pouch as her tiny fists raised and rested against Draven’s chest. “She looks quite comfortable,” I observed.

Medra leaned her soft pink cheek against Draven’s tunic. She seemed to be settling in for the ride.

“Well, she does like me best, you know,” he teased.

“It’s no joke. She really does. Everyone can see it. You’re wonderful with her. And... well, I’m not... used to babies,” I admitted.

He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “And you think I am?”

“Well, you certainly have a knack for it. An instinct.”

He tapped a finger to his chin, still grinning. “I believe they call it a maternal instinct, do they not?”

“Shut up,” I growled playfully. “I suppose I must be lacking mine.”

“It has nothing to do with male or female. You have it. She’s bonding with you, too. In time...”

“Yes, in time.” I looked at him and the baby, suddenly imagining Medra running through the castle on her own two legs. I could teach her to read. Show her my favorite books in the castle library. Or teach her sword fighting down in the practice yard. Of course, with Draven and Sir Ector and Dame Halyna all nearby, she’d have a lot of help with the latter.

The baby carrier Draven wore was crafted from a study linen and embroidered with flowers. It had clearly been used before.

“Where did you get it?” I asked.

“Hawl and I were discussing how Bearkin cubs simply hold on to their parent’s fur and are carried about on their backs, or even their undersides. Lancelet overheard us and mentioned that her mother had used a carrier with all of her children—and that sometimes her father had worn it, too.” He shrugged. “Well, it piqued my interest...”

“Of course it did.” I smiled.

“And so she offered to try to find it.”

“I’m so glad she’s been visiting her family,” I murmured.

He nodded. “She brought it back from her family’s home in the city yesterday. Her mother said I could keep it as long as I wanted. You’re welcome to try it, too, of course.” He flexed his shoulders. “It’s quite enjoyable.” Then he eyed me. “You look quite enjoyable, too.”

His tone had changed, taken on another meaning entirely. His eyes moved over my body, pausing over the tight bodice of my leather vest, the curve of my waist, then passing to my hips snug in their trousers.