Chapter 10

Jakol must return to the Burbarre lands in a few short days to help oversee the rebuilding. I offer to join him, so he says, “Please, come and visit me, so I can show you my homeland, too.”

It feels like a great step forward in our journey—our marriage—and I agree. He will be gone for many months, perhaps even a year, and my heart sinks every time I think of it. But I plan to join him once the discomfort of being apart grows too great, and I always have the painting of him outside of my conservatory.

But that time comes sooner than I expect. I thought I would be able to last at least six months without him before my heart grew too weak, but in our excitement to experience each other’s bodies as many times as possible, we’ve created a new and different complication.

I examine myself in the mirror as yet another of my periods fails to arrive. There’s nothing visible just yet, but I’m only three months in. At least I’m no longer sick at all times of day for no reason at all—but there are still some foods that taste like nothing, or worse, like warm trash. Things I liked become things I hate, and things I hate become things I crave more than anything else.

Arnwell has the most obnoxiously knowing look on his face. Finally, I break down and confess.

“So,” he says, arching an eyebrow, “on the matter of princes and princesses? Shall we start discussing the approach?”

I shake my head. No, I have to inform Jakol first, before I do anything else. He has no idea. While my advisors warn me against flying such a long way, it’s better I do it now than when I’m big and round.

It is a long trip, and the swaying of the zeppelin makes me feel constantly sick. I throw up over the side more times than I can count.

Then, at last, we arrive in the Burbarre’s homeland. It is beautiful, green and sprawling, dotted with lakes and rivers and golden meadows. I’ve never seen a place as lovely as this.

As we fly down toward the city, I see why Jakol has been stuck here for so long. The avalanche sank nearly a third of the buildings that lie within the walls. Now the rock is being carved out, cut away, restoring what was taken one inch at a time. This was devastating. Yet I can’t help the little thrill growing in my chest as we approach the landing site, and I see a surprised, somewhat flustered King Jakol waiting for me.

I’m down the ramp and in his arms before the zeppelin has fully settled. Jakol buries his face in my hair as he pulls me hard against him. “My love,” he says. “My Queen.” He kisses me fiercely, and I realize just how long it’s been since I’ve seen him. I want to rush away to privacy right now, but there are important matters to attend to.

“You came sooner than I expected,” he says, with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Did you miss me so soon?”

“Yes, of course, I did. But there’s, um, there’s something else, too.” Perhaps with so much loss and chaos around him, this will be one small spark of joy. I pull his hand down so it rests on my belly, which is only just starting to swell. “There’s this.”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “There’s what?”

I give him a meaningful look. “When you visited, and, you know,” I stand on my toes to whisper in his ear, “all those times you came inside me?”

Jakol’s eyes widen, and his mouth falls open like a caricature of himself. “You mean we?—?”

I nod again. “We did.”

The massive whoop that he lets out takes me by surprise. He picks me up around the middle and starts to swing me around, and while adorable, it’s making all my sky-sickness come back.

“Wait, wait,” I moan. “Please.” He sets me down, and immediately, I go and throw up right there on the landing site.

“Oops,” he says, but he’s smiling as broad as can be. “Sorry, my love.”

When I’m recovered, Jakol is glowing even more than I am, as if he’s the one carrying our baby. He shows off everything in his great city to me, and I have to admit that while very different from Fiore, it is special and beautiful in its own way.

There is a memorial every night for those lost in the landslide, and Jakol holds my hand tight during the moment of silence. The families of those lost have cried themselves out, and it is a sobering reminder that just as life can begin with a surprise, so can it abruptly end. By the time we return to the royal quarters, inside the beautiful, gilded castle that King Jakol calls home—and I suppose that now I ought to, as well—there is a somber air about us. He is quiet as he takes me that night, nuzzling his face in my throat. The feeling of him is beyond what I’d ever dreamed possible. My King is gentle with my tender breasts and rough with his tongue until I’m thrashing and gasping. He makes sure I am soft and slick before entering me, and then his arms curl with longing around me as he eases himself inside. He doesn’t stop until I’ve climaxed more times than I can count, steadily whipping me into a crying frenzy. His tail caresses me, and his furry haunches butt up against my thighs as he thrusts into me from behind.

“I missed you more than a plant without sunshine,” he says, still deep inside me after our sweaty bodies have finally recovered. How he is so thick and swollen, I can’t fathom.

“I may not have pretty words like you do, but I missed you, too.” I settle back against his nakedness. Jakol’s fingers trace along my belly. His chest shudders. I can’t see his face.

“I’m not sure now when I’ll be able to return,” he says, melancholy. “But I want to be close to you, near to you, now more than ever.”

I want this, too. There will be many challenges and new experiences, and I hate the idea of facing them without him. But my kingdom needs me, too. I have always put them first, as is my duty.

I ask what you, the Queen, want for yourself?I remember his words once upon a time and wonder if perhaps I’ve found it. I want my family to be together, to traverse all of life’s joys and trials as one.

“Then I’ll stay.” I snuggle up closer to him on the bed. It is a massive thing, covered in beautiful, soft pelts. “I want to get to experience this together.”

Jakol nods, and I can feel him smiling even with my head against his chest. “Me, too. And perhaps this new prince or princess will bring my people the hope they need right now.”

Once I’m pregnant enough that it’s obvious to anyone looking at me, King Jakol and I announce it to his people—to our people—and they roar and cheer. This will be the story that truly unifies our countries and brings us together into a single kingdom.

I handle missives from home as they come, but for the most part, I’m allowed to just rest. It’s the first time since I became Queen that I’ve allowed myself the privilege of simply resting while Jakol works hard, attending to his people’s needs. I’m glad I have Arnwell back home, taking care of things while I wait for our new addition to arrive.

Naturally, we must discuss the matter of inheritance. I don’t want to change my country’s ways and deprive my people of their chance to choose their own leaders.

“Then we will endeavor to raise a child whom they will want to choose,” Jakol says. “And if they don’t, then our successors will have to figure it out for themselves.”

“Leave it in the hands of the future?” I ask. “What if it comes to war?”

“There are already citizens from your country coming here to trade and settle,” he says. “They will find a way forward.” His hand lands on my belly, where we can both feel the quiet, steady beating of a heart. “I believe in them.”

Though I am more tender than ever, Jakol treats me with the greatest gentleness when he makes love to me. “Our people say it is good for the baby,” he tells me.

“Are you just making that up so you have an excuse to keep bedding me?” I ask, but jokingly.

“Not at all.” And he isn’t wrong. In fact, he’s lying behind me, sliding in and out, when I feel the first shockwave of pain.

“Shh,” he says, cradling me against him. “It will help. I promise.” And as the pain ebbs, and he makes me shudder and drip all around him, I can feel it happening.

I am ripe with fear when the midwife arrives. But my husband is there with me, his hand wrapped tight around mine, wiping the sweat from my brow as I moan and sob.

“I’m sorry,” he says, kissing my shoulder.

“You should be,” I growl.

But, as Jakol predicted, the birth is a little less horrible than I thought it would be. Our baby emerges with thin, soft fur from the waist down. She has small indents on her forehead that might become horns one day. She is perfect.

“We made this,” he says with wonder as she sucks on me.

“We did.”

His eyes are bright and giddy. “Can we make more?”

I chuckle, and it makes me ache between the legs just to laugh. “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

Soon the city is flourishing again, and we fly back to my home country to present the new princess to her people. She is received with joy and cheers, and after some time, we find her a name.

Sarina. A perfect name for our wild little daughter, who runs with her white hair blowing in the wind, held back only by the two horn nubs on either side of her head.

We often travel between our two kingdoms, even when I’m big and swollen with our second one. I don’t know what their lives will look like yet, but I know mine. Our peoples are happy and cared for, just as we are, and that is all I could ever want.

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