Ivetta liked Lydia, but she especially liked the effect Lydia had on Nokto. She gave me a detailed accounting of how Lydia reduced Nokto to his dreamlike state in the time he was absent from my office the previous afternoon. As amusing as it all was, I was less interested in the possibility that Nokto might be headed toward an actual relationship and more interested in how quickly Lydia out-foxed the fox. She was clever. And she followed up with the doctor first thing the next morning, further cementing my opinion that Ivetta would be in good hands with her. That should have eased my mind. It didn’t.
“Nokto’s late this morning,” Clavis said the next morning, his constant commentary an irritating backdrop as I tried to put Ivetta out of my mind and focus on work. “Guess his date went well.”
Clavis had been going on and on all morning, first about the party he attended in Nokto’s place, then about Nokto and Lydia. I was barely listening. There was nothing of importance in his words.
“Finally decided to show up,” he said gleefully. I glanced up as Nokto entered the room, the dreamy look of the day before gone from his crimson eyes, but a smile on his lips.
“Morning,” Nokto said simply, walking past Clavis to pick up some paperwork from my desk.
“Regina, Janet, and…what was her name…Becky. That’s it. They were all sorely disappointed that you weren’t at the party last night.” Clavis smirked. “But I think Regina forgot all about you by the end of the night.”
“Good,” Nokto replied. “I ended it with all three of them a while ago.”
“So, how about Lydia?” Clavis asked suggestively. “Care to regale us with the latest chapter from your riveting tales of life between the sheets?”
“We had dinner,” Nokto said dismissively. “That’s all.”
“Oh, my, this is serious. What do you think, Chev? Has Nokto caught the disease?”
I set my quill down and stood up. “You can finish all this paperwork while you talk,” I said coolly, heading for the door.
“Where are you going?” Clavis asked, surprised.
“Somewhere quieter than here,” I replied as I opened the door. “Like the training arena.”
The clashing of metal on metal, the scrape of a missed slash glancing off stone, these harsh sounds were easier to handle than Clavis’ prattling. None of it was loud enough to drown out my thoughts. The second trimester wasn’t so bad, with the excitement of feeling the baby kick for the first time temporarily overriding my worry. But the worry returned and grew with Ivetta’s stomach.
I had read enough medical texts to know what her body was supposed to do before and during labor. Ligaments and tendons should stretch and relax, changing the shape of her pelvis and making delivery possible. A fractured pelvis, though now healed, may not be able to adjust appropriately, especially if there was lasting damage to surrounding soft tissue structures. The doctor had an anatomical chart in her file with the specific known and assumed locations of each fracture she endured during her torture, based on the grating and movement he felt during his initial examination when I brought her out of that dungeon. The jagged line drawn across her pelvis would almost certainly cause problems. He was hoping for an early delivery when the baby was smaller. If she couldn’t deliver the baby, the last resort was a Cesarean section, which would almost certainly kill her. Lydia was familiar with the procedure, but she’d only seen one woman survive it. The measure was meant to save the baby, not the mother.
I would rather lose the baby than Ivetta.
Sleep evaded me that night, in spite of the rigorous exercise with my knights. My body was tired. My mind was not. Ivetta was fast asleep in my arms, cuddled up to my side as she did every night. I looked forward to her sharing my bed when we got married, but I never expected her to be this clingy. Awake or asleep, she sought my embrace. My side of the bed was simply where I got into bed, and her side of the bed was the same. We spent most of our time in the middle. I didn't mind, and I had begun to have trouble sleeping alone when I had to leave her for an inspection tour. This was how it should always be.
I don’t know how long I lay there, my eyes closed, listening to her slow, steady breathing, before I finally fell asleep.
Waking up was much more abrupt. Ice-cold hands pressed flat on my stomach, and my eyes shot open as I grabbed the offending wrists, pushing them quickly away. Bright green eyes sparkling with mirth met mine. Ivetta lay in bed next to me, fully dressed after her Sunday morning in church and giggling hysterically.
“You little-”
“Hello, Chevalier,” she interrupted with a bright smile.
It was impossible to be upset with her, but I fought a smile and feigned a stern expression. “Didn’t you wear your gloves?”
“Oh, are my hands cold?” she asked innocently.
I rolled over, pinning her wrists above her head and kissing her hard. Her hands were cold, but her lips were warm and inviting, and she was still giggling uncontrollably when I pulled back to hover over her.
“You know, you shouldn’t reward me for bad behavior, Chevalier,” she teased. “Why would I ever wear gloves after you do something like that?”
“This is why I have to monitor your health so closely,” I replied, my smile breaking free. “You won’t take care of yourself otherwise.”
“So…may I warm my hands on you?” she asked coyly.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked, a spark of heat lighting within me.
“Just cuddling,” she said sweetly. “Until the apple cider comes, anyway. Please?”
I chuckled and released her wrists, lying back down with my arms open and ready. She snuggled up to my side, keeping her cold hands on the outside of my shirt this time. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer as she nuzzled into me.
“I love you, Chevalier.”
“I love you, too, Ivetta.”
She sighed deeply. “This is nice.”
“It is.”
It was perfect, actually. She still fit perfectly in my arms, even with her growing stomach forcing us to make slight adjustments. I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day just like this, after lunch and the promised apple cider.
“Chevalier?” she eventually asked.
“Yes?”
“I know you’re worried about me, and I know you have good reason to worry, but I’m okay right now.”
I stiffened at her words. She knew. But then, she always did, no matter how well I thought I hid my true feelings. I hadn’t wanted her to notice. Additional stress would do her no good. Yet, now that she brought it up, I had to say something.
She didn’t need to know the details.
“I don’t want anything happening to you, Ivetta.”
She pulled back a little to look up at me. “You can’t control it, Chevalier,” she said softly, her eyes earnest as they caught and held mine. “I know you want to, but you just can’t. This is something every mother has to go through, and there’s always a chance something could go wrong, even with someone who is perfectly healthy. That doesn’t mean I want you to keep yourself up late at night worrying about me. I’d rather we focus on the good that’s happening right now, and the good that will come if everything goes well, than worry about the bad that may never happen.”
How did she know I was up late? She had been asleep; I was sure of it. I hadn’t moved or spoken. But I had slept in later than usual, and she had caught me by surprise with her cold hands. That alone was a sign that something was wrong. She probably guessed based off of that.
‘The bad that may never happen.’
It was more likely to happen than she realized, and she didn’t know that. I didn’t want her to know that. But the words came tumbling out before I could stop them.
“I can’t lose you, Ivetta.”
There was a lump in my throat that I didn’t want there.
Her green eyes widened as realization dawned. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and then opened it again. “I don’t want to leave you, Chevalier,” she said softly, a slight tremor in her voice. “But you’ve done all you can. I have the best doctor and midwife team in Rhodolite, and all that’s left is to wait and see.” She gave me a forced smile. “But, you know, I’m pretty hard to get rid of, so I think you’re going to be stuck with me for a long time.”
I took a shaky breath and gently tucked a few loose strands of her black hair back behind her ear. “I haven’t given you an order in a while.”
“No, but you’ve given me plenty of requests, instructions, and guidelines,” she replied.
“Which you don’t follow,” I reminded her.
She giggled, though tears were shimmering in her eyes. “Another point in my favor. I’m too stubborn to follow the rules, so I’ll get through this with no problem, right?”
“That isn’t enough,” I said firmly. “As your king, I’m ordering you to…survive this.” My voice broke as the lump rose to interfere, and I swallowed it down again.
Ivetta nodded and managed a crooked smile. “I can’t disobey a direct order from the king, can I?” she asked, her voice thick.
“No, you can’t,” I murmured, leaning in to kiss her tenderly. Her distinctly sweet flavor was tainted by the salt of the tears that finally fell, hers and mine, mingling on her lips. She cupped my cheek in her hand as I followed the moisture up her cheek to the side of her eye, her lashes fluttering closed as the tears continued to fall. I showered her with kisses, each releasing a little more of the tension that had become unbearable. Her thumb drew light, rhythmic circles on my cheek, but she otherwise lay still beside me, her eyes closed, her tears falling silently as I held her and kissed her. I finally made my way back to her lips again, drawing a soft moan from deep within her. She opened her eyes again when I pressed my forehead to hers, still silent, wiping the last of the moisture from my cheek.
The knock at the door came at the perfect time, for once. I left a light kiss on her lips and got out of bed to answer the door. Melanie wouldn’t see any redness or puffiness on my face. She was still too intimidated by me, and she kept her shy gray eyes firmly on the tray in front of her as she carried it to the table. Two steaming mugs of apple cider accompanied the two plates of food. She hurriedly set the table and darted out of the room.
“Look, Chevalier, it’s snowing!” Ivetta exclaimed.
She was standing at the window, her hands still gripping the drapes that she’d pulled aside as she watched the snowflakes fall. Snow wasn’t surprising, but the bright smile on her face when she turned back to me was more heartwarming than the aroma of apple, nutmeg, and cinnamon filling the room.
“Maybe this is silly, but could we just stay here today?” she asked, taking a seat in the chair I pulled out for her. “In our room?”
“Doing what?” I asked teasingly as I took my seat beside her, although I already knew she wasn’t in the mood for making love, at least not right now. She was still looking back at the window thoughtfully.
“Do you remember that day it rained at the chateau? When we cuddled on the sofa in front of the fire and just listened to the rain? I’d like to do that again,” she said, turning her bright green eyes back to me. “Just cuddle, watch the snow, and talk about whatever comes to mind.”
I was going to make a similar suggestion before she coaxed my fears out into the open, and it was an even more attractive prospect now. The weight had been lifted off my shoulders. She was still at risk, but nothing was certain.
“I have no objections.”
The rest of the day was lighter. Ivetta talked animatedly about anything and everything, and it was impossible not to catch her excitement whenever the conversation turned toward the baby. She had discussed the third trimester extensively with Lydia, and she relayed it all to me as if I hadn't already heard it all from the doctor. Pelvic pain was to be expected the closer she came to her due date, and she would need at least six weeks following birth to recover, so she teasingly suggested we make love as often as possible while we still could - but not now, she added hastily when I let my hand glide across her curves. I settled my hand safely on her stomach, and she moved on to Nokto and Lydia, who were flirting before lunch again, but it wasn’t long before she drifted back to the baby. I allowed myself to follow her to the optimistic future where nothing went wrong and we adapted to life with our new baby, who Ivetta insisted would remain in our room with us until the child was sleeping through the night. That didn’t surprise me. Ivetta never liked the tradition among royalty and nobility of passing children off to nannies shortly after birth. Then she was on to Sariel and Sarah, and her latest letter from Belle, and always, inexorably, back to the baby.
I listened, answered questions, responded with comments, and asked my own questions as the hours passed. We switched our usual positions in bed so we could both face the window; her lying in front of me, my chin resting on her head as I held her close, both of us warm in our pajamas and the embrace of the blankets. Dinner came with two cups of hot cocoa. The sun set, the snow stopped, and the sky cleared to reveal a full moon and an infinite number of stars. That was when Ivetta’s mood shifted. She finished her dinner and fell silent, the mischief in her eyes speaking for her as she stood up and moved onto my lap. Her kisses tasted of chocolate. I scooped her up and carried her back to bed, and the only words for the rest of the night were our names breathed into the darkness.
I slept soundly that night.24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXWavQ8ZnoI
