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“The eerie similarity to my hasty prediction has not escaped me.”
“The waiting is difficult for me too.”
No news there—he practically oozed restless impatience. Especially since sex was suddenly quite uncomfortable for me. I suspected my nervous system had become overly sensitized with the massive changes to my body. My hip bones practically creaked as they adjusted to the rapid expansion of my uterus. Mistress Nancy simply shook her head and did her best to reassure me that, despite the extraordinary rate of progression—she figured me to be in the seventh month now—in all other ways the pregnancy appeared normal.
Small comfort there.
“Nevertheless.” I stood and, groaning, braced my hands on the bench to let my body adjust. “I said I’d help him.” It went without saying that I might not be in a position to do anything, if the birth did not go well.
“You redeemed your favor. We have his forces without this unwise offer of yours.”
“I know.” I pressed my fists into my lower back, willing the muscles to relax. “I can’t explain it. I just have a feeling I should help him.”
Rogue echoed my sigh but didn’t argue further. “He cannot bring the corpse here?”
I made a face. “Apparently it has decomposed enough that he’s loathe to move it again. And flesh—so no poofing it here, though I think being inanimate should count. I’m informed that doesn’t matter, however.”
“I don’t like this idea of you going off with Fafnir.”
“Jealousy is a sign of insecurity, not affection.”
“And your point is?”
I glanced at him. So gorgeous, exotic, powerful. Yet, uncertain of me, after all. “Even if I didn’t feel like a cranky hippopotamus, and even if I weren’t forever joined at the hip with you, I’d hardly pick Fafnir over you.”
“No?” He moved behind me and ran warm, radiant hands down the knotted muscles of my back. I sighed in relief as the vibrating massage lessened their tension. “Why not?”
“I can’t believe you’re fishing for compliments.”
“What an amusing image. You are correct, however. I don’t savor the idea of you in Fafnir’s home. That said, I’m mainly concerned that he cannot protect you from Titania. In addition, would you take Mistress Nancy with you? What if you should begin to deliver the child? You’ve made extensive plans to carry that off in the safest possible way.” And here he paused, leading me to think that he might know that I’d taken measures against him turning on me, as well. He found the sorest point on my back and worked it loose. I nearly purred. “Why would you jeopardize that? Staying here is the wisest course.”
He was right. I just felt so confined. No wonder people used to refer to pregnancy as “confinement.” Imagine if I’d had to experience nine real-time months of this.
“There’s a reason I never wanted babies,” I muttered.
“So you’ve mentioned.” More than once, he didn’t say.
“Fine. What’s your solution?”
“I’ll go with Fafnir and we’ll bring the corpse here. You can experiment with it in the safe hall.”
I unbent and faced him, suddenly fearful—and hating how dependent I felt. “What if you don’t come back?”
“Ah, Gwynn.” He stroked my cheek. “Where else would I possibly want to be?”
“Don’t say that.”
Not only cranky, but superstitiously worried. The closer the time came, the more I saw Cecily’s fate and imagined it mine. I knew better than to dwell on the images, not to detail the scene of Rogue striding in under Titania’s control, silver-blue sword in hand to cut the baby from my belly. I reached for the icy control Marquise and Scourge had taught me at such great pains to my mental health and managed to dissolve the thought.
Don’t make it real.
“Perhaps it would be better for you if I’m not here.” Rogue withdrew from me mentally, just enough that I noticed.
I rubbed my forehead. “No. That’s not better. I want you here. I need you here.”
“We’ll be all right.” He said it with his usual certainty. But I knew the inside of his heart well enough to know how much of that was bluff, gamble and his excellent poker face.
“Has it occurred to you that we’re relying heavily on me and our bond with each other to keep Her from making you act against me—and I’m the one who’s most likely going to be out of commission? What if I lose too much blood and pass out? All the stories say it’s ungodly painful—what if I’m so distracted by the pain that I can’t muster the concentration to help you?”
