One morning a week or so after the battle against the storm-daemon Typhoon, I rose very early, and leaving Avani asleep in bed, I slipped into my clothes and out the back door. Dashing through the chilly morning air, I hurried over to see Lin. I wanted something from her, and quickly—before my wife awoke and found I was missing, anyway. So hurrying into the inn and through the lobby, I knocked on her bedroom door. She answered a minute later, yawning as she shrugged into her robe. “Leon? What’s going on? Why are you here so early? Is something wrong?” she asked in rapid fire, confused by my arrival in her private room.
“No, nothing’s wrong, Lin. But I want something as quickly as possible, and I’m very much hoping you can give me what I need. Can I come in?”
**************
A few minutes later, I was hurrying back through the garden, a small parcel in my hand, and slipping back into the house as quickly and quietly as I could. Fortunately, she didn’t appear to have so much as stirred. I went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee brewing while I arranged my purchase on a pretty plate. Placing the plate, a fork, a bowl of strawberries picked just the day before from the spring field on Sercerezo Hill, a small dish of sweetened whipped cream, and two cups of coffee on a tray, I carefully crept back out to the main chamber.
Placing the tray on the bedside table, I slipped under the covers alongside my wife. Kissing her gently on her cheek, I whispered, “Good morning, My Lady. It’s another beautiful day in Selphia.” She opened her eyes somewhat reluctantly—I’m afraid I’d kept her up rather later than usual last night, plus she apparently still hadn’t recovered all of her energy from her two most recent battles, against the grimoire and the storm-daemon. She yawned and snuggled up against me, closing her eyes tightly again, but I could see a mischievous curve at the corner of her mouth and knew she was only kidding around.
Smiling at her dissemblance, I murmured, “I have a little something for you, but you have to be awake to receive it.” That got her attention, and her eyes flew open, bright with anticipation. I sat up, and she pulled herself up alongside me, peering around me to see what I’d brought for her. As I placed the tray on her lap, she looked it over, seemingly delighted yet puzzled by my odd selection.
“Thank you! It looks delicious. Though… why cake for breakfast?” she asked as she took a sip of the hot coffee, blowing on it to cool it first, and examined the large slab before her.
“Well, as I was starting to drift off last night…”
“More like this morning,” she interrupted with a wide grin, her eyes twinkling merrily.
“…this morning,” I conceded with a smile, “I suddenly remembered something from our conversation a few nights ago, the evening of our fight with Typhoon. I recalled that it had struck me as remarkable that you kept using cake analogies and idioms, and I wondered at the time if you were wanting something sweet. But then one thing led to another, and I’m afraid the cake was forgotten—until early this morning, anyway.”
She looked both surprised and touched. “I don’t think I consciously meant anything at the time, but now that I have it here in front of me, I can see it’s the very thing I’ve been wanting. Thank you, love. You’re always so thoughtful.” She selected an especially large, plump berry, and without warning, popped it into my mouth. I smiled at her as I ate it, then I returned the favor, first dipping hers into the cream. And so we went on—feeding each other berries and bites of the cake and sipping our coffee, until the unusual meal was over.
I took the dishes back out to the kitchen to wash, so that she could rest a little longer. I was halfway through with the washing up, when suddenly I heard a thud from the main chamber. Rushing out, drying my hands on my pant legs as I ran, I found her half-fallen to the floor. She looked up at me, her face wan, and groaned, “Leo… I don’t feel so good…” Then her eyes grew large, and she stumbled to her feet and out the door, with me close on her heels.
She ran to the fence and bent over, retching into the bushes. I grabbed her hair and pulled it out of the way, frowning in concern as she lost her breakfast over the course of the next quarter hour. Finally, she seemed to be done, and shaking from the strain and the cold, she allowed me to lead her back into the castle.
Sitting her down on the edge of the bed, I fetched a basin of water, a cloth, and a towel from the kitchen. I set them on the bedside table, and as I gently washed her face, noting to myself how clammy her skin was, I asked, “What is it, My Lady? Was the cream bad? Or was something wrong with the cake? Or are you perhaps coming down with something?”
She groaned a little, clamping her hand down on her belly as if she again felt ill, then relaxed again a moment later as it passed. “I… I don’t know, Leo,” she croaked, her throat raw. “I just suddenly felt so sick and dizzy—that’s why I fell trying to get out of bed. And then… well, you know. Thanks for helping me. Maybe I should put my hair up, in case it comes back, you know.”
“Maybe,” I said, scowling, “although I think an even better idea would be for you to go to the clinic. They won’t be open for a while, but I’m sure Jones will see you anyway. I’m concerned for your health—you’ve been so run down lately, you know. I think we should head over as soon as you feel able to dress.”
It was certainly more a testament to how miserable she felt than to any powers of persuasion I might have imagined I possessed that she agreed without protest. So as soon as she’d had a little time to recover, she twisted her hair up into a knot at the back of her head, then pulled on a skirt and sweater, her warm boots, and her jacket, and we headed out the front door to walk the couple of blocks to the clinic.
While she dressed, I’d stepped out to arrange for Clorica and Vishnal tend to her farm chores for her that morning, so that she needn’t try to do them while feeling so miserable. He said to leave everything to him and to tell her to rest and get better soon, and I hurried back to our rooms, worried lest she take ill while again while I was away.
At that early hour, very few people were up and about. The only people we bumped into on our way were Forte, going through her morning warm-up routine out in the courtyard as usual; Dolce and Pico out on their early morning walk, and Dylas, who was fishing in a channel nearby. Forte merely waved a greeting to us, too focused to notice that anything was amiss. Dolce exclaimed over her pale appearance and expressed a hope that she feel better soon, seconded by Pico, and commented that Jones and Nancy would surely fix her up. Dylas watched as we started to walk past, then set his rod down and hurried over. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, scowling in concern at her peaked look. “You don’t look so good.” He turned to me, asking, “You taking her to see Jones? Good. Let me know what he says, will you?” Then with an awkward but gentle pat on her back, he said, “Take it easy, alright? Get better soon.” Then he slowly walked back to his fishing tackle, looking back over his shoulder as we continued on our way.
Nancy was just coming down the stairs, humming a cheerful tune, apparently going to water the flower boxes in the windows, as she carried a watering can in her hand. She started to smile in greeting, but just then Avani turned white again and clamped her hands over her mouth, panic rising in her eyes. Moving quickly, Nancy grabbed a basin and brought it to her just in time. As I held it for her, Nancy flew to the stairs, shouting up to her husband. “Jones! Come quick! Avani’s sick!”
A moment later, I heard footsteps running down the stairs, and then the doctor was there, watching with concern as my wife continued heaving, though she had nothing left in her by then. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then walked over to a cabinet. He retrieved a small ceramic jar, and reaching in, pulled out a pinch of something. Returning the jar to its place, he walked over and popped the substance into her mouth. I caught a pungent whiff of ginger—spicy, slightly hot, a little earthy, yet also sweet, so probably candied to preserve it. She grimaced at the strong flavor, but almost instantly the color returned to her cheeks and the tremors that shook her began to subside. After a few minutes, she passed the basin to Nancy with an embarrassed apology. “Don’t worry about it, dear,” the nurse said cheerily. “We’re quite used to it here!” She left for a minute, then returned with a clean basin, just in case.
Jones led Avani back to an exam room, and after asking me to wait in the front room, Nancy followed. I sat anxiously waiting, time hanging heavy on my hands as I strained my ears for any clue as to what was wrong. I wondered yet again if it might have been the cream—I had thought it was fresh, but as I hated milk, I hadn’t tasted it or, to be completely honest, even sniffed it. I’d just assumed… but if something had been wrong, wouldn’t she have noticed the flavor? Or would the berries and cake and coffee have masked it too well?
I sat, fretting and longing to do something—anything—to help, for perhaps as much as half an hour. Then Nancy stepped out with her usual cheery smile and asked me to come on back. I jumped up and followed her, immediately going to stand by Avani. She was seated in a chair, looking tired and surprisingly frail. Looking at Jones, I exclaimed, “What is it, doc? What’s wrong with her? Was it something she ate? Or has she come down with something? She’s been so tired lately, ever since that battle with the grimoire. Would that have made her more susceptible to illness?”
Avani looked up at the doctor, asking faintly, “Is it anything very serious, doctor?”
Jones smiled at us, then at Nancy, who beamed back at him. “Well, yes, I suppose you could say it was serious. Congratulations, you two—you’re going to be have a baby!”
Avani’s mouth dropped open, and she looked up at me, speechless. I looked at her, then at Jones again, exclaiming, “What? Are… are you sure?”
Nancy gave Avani a big hug, then she nudged me playfully in the ribs with her elbow. “Yep, it’s true! Congratulations, you old dog—I knew you had it in you! Oh, I can’t wait to see your baby!” She clapped her hands together ecstatically, looking joyfully back and forth between us.
Then they left us alone for a few minutes, giving us time to let it sink in. I sat down in the chair next to hers and took her hands in mine. “My Lady….”
She looked at me, uncertainly. “Leo?”
I smiled and shook my head slightly. “I… it’s just that for once in my life, I’m at a complete loss for words. I’m utterly delighted—just think of it, our child.” I grinned at her, and wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her tightly for just a moment. Looking into her eyes, I asked, “And you, My Lady? How do you feel about it? Are you… are you glad, too?”
She searched my eyes for a moment, then rested her head on my shoulder. “Me?” she said, sighing softly. “There ought to be a law against being so perfectly happy—but I’m awfully glad there isn’t.”
I held her gently as she leaned against me, then looking down, I saw her staring at nothing, a sweet, pensive look in her eyes, and I marveled anew at how joyful life could be.
Stroking her cheek softly, I said, “Tell me, My Lady, do you think we’ll have a son? Or a daughter? I seem to recall that some women could somehow tell, sometimes even right from the beginning. Not all, of course, but still… do you have any ideas?”
She looked surprised as she considered, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, Leo, but no—I’ve no idea whether this will be a boy or a girl. Does it matter very much to you which?”
“Not at all,” I reassured her. “I hope that we’ll end up with plenty of both. But even if we have all girls or all boys, I’ll be fine with that, too. They’ll all be precious to me—no matter which—because they’re our children. Yours and mine.”
She nodded, then grinned. “I guess this puts to rest your fears that being a Guardian ruined your chances of having children.”
I laughed and ruffled her hair as she protested, laughing herself all the while. “Yes, it does rather ease my mind on the account. Though I’m still at a loss as to why in all those years…. Ah, well, it doesn’t matter—not really, anyway. I’m just pleased that I picked such an delightful mother for my children.”
“And I’m glad I picked them such a wonderful daddy,” she said as she again nestled up to me.
Just then, Jones and Nancy returned, still all smiles. Jones had some advice for us, particularly for Avani. There was still plenty of time, he said, until the baby was due. His estimate was for early fall, though he warned us that babies were born when they were good and ready, regardless of what anyone else might think. He also cautioned Avani that, in the meantime, she needed to pay particular attention to her health. “Take extra care not to overdo it, young lady,” he said to her in his most serious tone of voice, though there was a sparkle in his eye as he said it. “You need to be sure you eat healthfully, get plenty of rest—while you still can!—and just generally be aware of how you’re feeling. Physical activity is fine, but if you feel what you’re doing is at all a strain, stop immediately. Your baby is well protected in there, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
“Speaking of playing it safe… you need to avoid alcohol, large amounts of coffee or tea, medications I haven’t approved, and very hot baths. If you ask, I’m sure Lin will adjust the bath temperature for you, especially if you go during off-peak hours, and then don’t soak for as long as you normally would. Oh, and pay attention to your energy levels, especially if you do anything taxing, like spellcasting, or forging, or farming. Avoid combat, certainly anything more than a simple practice workout, as I’m concerned about the potential for blows to your abdomen. And as for you, Leon, your job will be to support her as best you can. Help her out so that she can rest, especially with heavier work, like the farm chores, and protect her from harm. You’ll have to fight her battles for her for a while, if it comes to that. Now, have you two got all that?”
Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Avani and I nodded. Nancy smiled at the numb looks on our faces, and promised to write out a list of instructions and have Dolce bring them over later. We stood up and started to walk out, and I put my arm around her shoulders, still feeling incredulous. “So… we really are going to be parents, My Lady. Well, well… I suppose I’d better go tell everyone the news. It’s never too soon to start extolling the virtues of our forthcoming prodigy, after all! Oh, and as for the name—I’ll leave that up to you, love. So be sure you pick a perfect one!” I grinned at her and tousled her hair again before heading out to share our good fortune.
Later that day, when I returned home, I found Avani curled up on the sofa with the foxes in her lap, gazing wistfully into the fire as she absently stroked their fur. Uno looked up at me as I walked in, yawning lazily. “Your mate has become most comfortable since your successful impregnation,” his voice spoke in my mind. “We estimate that her internal temperature his risen nearly two degrees as a result. Very pleasant in this frosty weather.” Then he lay his head back down, burying his nose contentedly beneath his tails.
Avani looked up as I walked over, still bemused by Uno’s comments. “How’d it go? Are you the envy of all the town now?” she asked with a grin, her eyes sparkling.
“Naturally! Although I can’t for the life of me understand why everyone hopes that our child will take after you and not me. Particularly Forte—perhaps I need to remind her how refreshing my sense of humor is.” She snorted, trying to stifle her giggles, and I grinned at her as I sat down by her side, picking up a drowsily protesting Uno and dropping him onto my lap to make more room. “Now then, what were you up to, My Lady? You looked as though you were a million miles away when I walked in.”
She sighed and stared back into the fire. “Oh, I was just thinking… I feel a little bit sad that… well, that neither of us has any family, you know. Or none that we know of, anyway. Our baby won’t have any grandparents, or aunts and uncles, or any little cousins to play with.”
“Yes, that’s true… but our baby will have us, not to mention an entire town full of adoring, doting admirers. I think we’ll make a fine, happy family, My Lady.”
She snuggled a little closer, and the dreamy look returned to her eyes as she stared into the flames, this time with a smile on her lips. “Yes… I think you’re right.”