Aconitella, or A Necromancer's Wife (TCoLaD Book 3)

Confined

~ (Continued) Dvoday, 30th of Septembrie, 11831 ~

Cordelia lay in bed, reading a letter from Perdita about the royal wedding. Her friend must have penned it either late last night after the reception, or gotten up early to do so, for it already reached her in Folia. Or perhaps Perdy had simply not slept at all if the fête went on until dawn.

"Oh, their vows were whispered," she said to her growing belly. Her daughter kicked in reply, and Delia smiled with fond exasperation. "Now, don't you start! I could not go because of you, you know." Even in the heavier clothes of the season, it was hard to hide her condition. It would have been both dangerous and improper for her to travel like this, and she could not fault her father-in-law for ordering her to stay in Folia. She even found it kind that he worried. Perdy had sworn to write, though, and the letter in her hand proved that her friend took the duty seriously. She turned back to the message.

There were, of course, many of the land at the reception, but not as much as one would think. I believe you are not the only one confined to bed with child from springtime's blessing. I dare say that I saw the socialites from Piques, His and Her-Future-Graces' friend Nina with her husband, and she is almost as round as you!

"So maybe I could have gone. Would you have liked to be at the wedding, Arielle?"

A knock on the door interrupted her, and she placed the letter on her side-table, hiding it under a book.

"Yes? Please come in."

Her father-in-law stepped into the room. His expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes were sharp as he came up beside her and bent down to kiss her cheek.

"How is my grandchild?"

"She is well," Delia said cautiously. Something about his manner was not quite right and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Comte Frederick nodded absently, turning to look out the window overlooking the courtyard, and folding his hands behind himself.

"I wish to spend the evening with you. As you are to stay abed, I will have dinner brought to us here. Is that acceptable?"

"I... Oui, of course. Thank you for your company."

Frederick nodded and sat at a writing desk, rapping at it with his knuckles. A servant entered the room bearing a tray, which was set before Cordelia, and another followed with foods to be put in front of the comte. Neither the servants, nor the comte, spoke, though Cordelia murmured her thanks.

Once he began to eat, she did as well, and they made small talk with each other. It was pleasant, as far as interactions with him went, and Cordelia found herself even smiling and laughing, the eerie feeling from earlier forgotten.

She thought it a victory when his own smile became genuine.

"My lord," she began, after the main course was taken away and a dessert brought forth. "May I ask of you a question?"

"Of course, my dear Delia," he said.

"I am glad for this evening," she began. "And thank you for your generosity. This is something I have needed. But I must ask for a favor. Would it be possible for me to return to my parents' home for the rest of my confinement?" Hearing of Nina at the wedding had emboldened her. While perhaps she would not have traveled all the way to the castle, to go to her parents' home would not be far at all. "It would not even be a day's ride. You see, I heard—"

"You may not."

"But, Father, you—"

"Both of my children are dead." He placed his spoon down and looked up at her with the coldness returning to his features. "You carry my only grandchild. I will not have you leaving this manor."