Page 50
Story: Pretense
“Now, what are you trying to tell me?” Essie held Farrendel’s gaze, willing herself to remain calm for his sake.
Farrendel’s silver-blue eyes met hers, and they didn’t have the panic she expected to find. She couldn’t say exactly what expression she saw there. “Our someday is today.”
What was he talking about? Their someday was their dream for the future.
For children.
Essie gaped at Farrendel. Surely he didn’t mean what she thought he meant. “Are we expecting? I’m pregnant?”
Farrendel nodded, still holding her gaze. Shouldn’t he look more excited? Not this somber calm.
She gasped, wrapping her arms over her middle. “I nearly died. The baby? Is the baby all right?”
Was that why Farrendel looked so serious? Was something wrong?
Farrendel hunched farther in on himself. “Rheva says the baby is fine, as far as she can tell. She’s been checking frequently. We should know for sure soon.”
Essie blinked, a lump in her throat. That would explain why Farrendel looked so grim. He did not dare feel any excitement when their excitement could just as easily be turned to grief. “How…” She had to swallow and try again. “How far along am I?”
Her mind was whirling. She’d ignored certain things, thinking it was stress. Apparently not. But she couldn’t be that many weeks along. Could Rheva tell with her magic?
“Not far, I do not think.” Farrendel shrugged. “But you will have to ask Rheva. I did not hear much after she said baby.”
She could understand that. She was having trouble absorbing it now, and she wasn’t as prone to panic as Farrendel.
Then another thought struck her. “I used your magic. Could that have hurt the baby?”
Farrendel froze, his gaze swinging to the ceiling. “I do not know. I have never heard of an elven woman refraining from magic while in a family way. But it is also not a topic publicly discussed. Nor did any of them have magic like mine.”
“I think I would worry less if the magic was mine. If that were the case, then my body would be immune to it, and I think that immunity would cover a child.” Essie gripped the soft blanket in her fists. “But I’m only immune to your magic because of the heart bond. I have no physical, natural immunity to it that my body could use to shield a baby.”
Farrendel shook his head, brow still furrowed. “Ask Rheva, but I think it would be best if you refrained from using my magic except in dire circumstances.”
“Such as an assassin trying to kill me.” Essie’s chest tightened. “They haven’t caught him yet, have they?”
“No.” Farrendel’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Your brothers are investigating, but they have yet to determine who was behind the attack and catch the assassin.”
“Are we safe here?” Essie glanced toward the window, taking in the waving branches. As she stared, she took in the faint blue light glowing in the distance. She had never seen that before. “Should we go somewhere more secure? Like Lethorel or somewhere else?”
“You need to keep resting and should not travel. At least not until we are more certain the baby is well.” Farrendel gestured toward the window. “We are well guarded, and I am maintaining a shield of magic around us. It is low-powered and simply warns me if someone crosses it, but an assassin cannot come close enough to target us here. Though, I am afraid there will be no trips into Estyra until the assassin is caught.”
They were safe, but the two of them were basically under house arrest. Farrendel would survive hiding here well enough, but she was going to go stir crazy.
Essie stared out the window, not really taking in the view. A baby, who they didn’t yet know would be all right. An assassin still out there trying to kill Farrendel and targeting Essie to do it.
She tried to smile, talking past the lump in her throat. “Should have known that your child would survive an assassination attempt before he or she was even born.”
Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t funny. Her voice choked, then turned into a sob on the last word.
Farrendel was at her side in a moment, sitting next to her and drawing her into his arms.
She clung to him and pressed her face into his shoulder, trying to muffle her sobs against his shirt. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.” Her sobs drew out the last word as she cried harder.
This was all wrong. She and Farrendel were supposed to be excited at this news, not terrified. She was the one who was supposed to tell Farrendel, bursting with anticipation and coming up with a cute, fun way to tell him, not him tell her in the middle of talk of assassins. It was just so, so wrong.
By the time she sniffed her way to calm, Farrendel’s shirt was soaked. Farrendel held her in his arms, her head cradled against his chest. She had her hands fisted in his shirt.
She was warm and safe. Loved. Right now, that was enough. Here, there was just Farrendel and her and their baby.
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