Page 7 of Honor and Claim (A New Reign #2)
Chapter Seven
COSIMA
“ O h my God, she’s going to kill us!” I screech, grabbing a hand towel for myself and tossing another to Marks.
We fan the smoke detector, trying to get the beeping to stop. I pray Chef Marcello never finds out about any of this. If he does, I’ll never live it down, and he might never let me in the kitchen again.
“Karen is so mean to us.” Marks fans faster. Karen is mean to us, but her grouchy demeanor is somewhat endearing. It's safe to say she's grown on us. She has also fed us more than once, and that's a quick way to earn a number one spot for Marks and me.
As if on cue, Norina, who we call Karen when she’s not in earshot, comes bursting through the back door of the little villa we rented.
She’s speaking so fast that I’m almost unable to follow. “It is always something with you two. You are going to burn this whole town down. What am I going to do with you?” She visibly takes a deep breath, trying to get her frustration with us under control. The smoke detector stops going off.
“I only caught the words burn and town out of everything you said.” Marks doesn't speak a lick of Italian except for what she has been trying to pick up for the past couple of weeks.
"What will I do with you two?" Norina flips over to English for Marks, shaking her head at us.
"I have a suggestion." I hold up one finger like I'm trying to answer a teacher's question.
"Out with it," Norina orders me.
"You could teach us to cook."
"You think I have the time for that?"
"Yes," Marks mutters. I elbow her in the side. "What, she goes for runs, reads, and fiddles in the garden."
"That is what is known as retirement." Norina gives us a pointed stare like we’re ruining said retirement.
"You're too young to be retired," I point out. I would guess her to be in her forties, but I do know she was in the military at one point.
Norina shakes her head at us, muttering under her breath. We both stay quiet like two kids in trouble.
"Clean this mess and come over in twenty." Norina turns, going back out the door.
"Why does it feel like we're being ordered to do what we wanted to do anyway?" Marks picks up the muffin baking sheet, dropping it into the sink. The muffins are blackened and caved in. How are we both so bad at this?
"It's her superpower." A whiff of the smoke and burnt muffin assaults me, making my stomach turn. “Oh noes.” I put my hand over my mouth and run toward the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I’m throwing up.
Marks is there a second later, running a washcloth under the water to hand to me. I press it to my mouth.
“That’s the third time this week.” Marks rests her hip up against the sink counter. I shake my head no. Not to her count of three but to what she is getting at. “Denying what this might be doesn’t make it go away.”
“Not today.” I drop the cloth into the sink before heading toward my room to use that bathroom to brush my teeth. Of course Marks follows me.
“Have you talked to him at all?”
“No, why would I?” I start brushing my teeth aggressively.
“Okay, your gums didn’t pop your cherry and maybe impregnate you. Take it easy on them.” I snort a laugh, which I’m pretty sure is what Marks was going for. “Can I go get a test now?”
“This whole town will know then,” I remind her.
We’d found the cutest villa in a charming small town on the coast. Since it’s so tiny, everyone knows everyone and their business. Half of the homes are vacation homes here.
“They’ll think it’s mine.”
“They’ll think you went and cheated on me.” We’re pretty sure a few locals think Marks and I are a couple.
“Good, they could use something to gossip about. I enjoy stirring the pot.”
“At least we can’t burn that pot,” I say, leaving the bathroom to grab my shoes.
I might have thrown up, but I’m still going to Karen’s for breakfast. That woman can cook, and this town doesn't have DoorDash or fast food. We had not thought of these things before renting this place.
“Don’t be so sure about that. We can burn just about anything.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” I mutter. “Plus, you shouldn’t stir the pot if you’re in said pot.”
“I can’t.” Marks throws her hands up. “I have to know. You could be knocked up. Then what? Should you even be standing?” My brows lift. I’m pretty sure she’s fucking with me, but I can never be sure with her. “What? I know shit about babies or pregnancy.”
“Fine, but I’m eating first.” There is no point in telling her no. Marks is worse than I am with listening. She’ll sneak and do it.
“Are we going to eat or what?” Marks is ready to get this show on the road, which would be her shoving whatever breakfast Karen made for us down her throat as quickly as possible, which will again get us in trouble. I’m in enough trouble as it is.
“What if I’m pregnant?” I finally say the words out loud. I think I already know the answer to whether I am or not, but I haven’t allowed myself to really think too much about it. I probably need to know for sure sooner rather than later. Especially if I get to use it as an excuse not to stand.
“You scared? Babies are creepy looking. Especially when they come out.” I laugh out loud because Marks is absolutely ridiculous.
“I’m not scared of the baby.” I have always wanted a family.
While my family isn’t typical, we are still all close, and my dad adored my mom. Even in our world, their relationship wasn't the norm. Despite the arranged nature of their relationship, they were deeply in love. That wasn’t the case usually.
I want love too, and I feel as though they got lucky.
I don’t know of any other arranged marriages in the families around us where the couples are truly in love.
It’s why when my brother War took over, I begged him to never make me marry against my will.
He’d made me that promise. It is because of my parents that I want that kind of love and babies of my own one day. It is a dream.
“Do you want the baby?"
"Yes!" I rush to say. I am also scared of the possibility that I might not be pregnant. That's why the test as a whole freaks me out altogether. "I know it's stupid or silly, but I have always wanted a family of my own."
"Why is that stupid?" Marks asks.
I shrug. "Because it's old school-ish? I'm supposed to want to further my education and whatever else.” I wave my hand around.
"Who said you should do any of that? I didn't even go to college, and I was homeschooled." Marks’ childhood, from the pieces I’ve put together, was different than any I've ever known before.
"That's part of it. Where I come from, girls don't go to college; you get married and have babies, but I was given the choice to go to college." And I didn't want it. Although it kept me occupied and I didn't despise it. However, I missed home but felt compelled to stay, so I did.
"You were kind of given a choice. Didn't they ship you off to school?" It sounds bad when she says it like that. I know it’s the truth, but in some ways I kind of understand that my brothers and father were trying to keep me out of their line of work. They should have allowed me to make the decision for myself, but I can’t blame them for wanting to protect me.
“It wasn’t all terrible, and it was better than school back home.”
“All I’m getting at is if your dream is to have babies and be a traditional wife, then have at it.
Don’t hide it because it’s not what others are doing these days.
That kind of defeats the whole point of women doing what they want.
” She’s right, but I can’t outright say that to Marks. We try to keep her ego in check.
“I can only see that life with one person, and he doesn't want it with me."
"Right," Marks snorts. "The man is up your ass. I had to remove him from your phone, which I should probably check again if you want."
I don't want her to check my phone, and the reason is pathetic. Before, I was getting pissed about his overbearing ways, and now I know it will break my heart to find out he's not even bothering with that anymore. Just like the pregnancy test, either outcome sucks.
"How about we get some food in us before we do anything?” I nod in agreement, food being the only thing I can agree on right now.