In Which Camaline Marvels at the Illogical

August 14, 1167

It must have been nearly midnight, but despite the drooping of her eyelids and the fading of the embers, Camaline refused to go to bed. She was too busy brooding to sleep.

For the first time since her marriage to Eblor, Aydelle had come to call at the castle, her beast of a pregnant middle with her. Camaline had been looking forward to the visit, but Aydelle had scarcely said a few words to her; Leara, glad to have her maid back for a day, had thoroughly capitalized her, and Ietrin had even had the gall to flirt with her. Flirting! With a married woman!

Of course he would fancy her, though. Who wouldn't? Besides, it was no secret that Ietrin had a weakness for brown-eyed, raven-haired girls: Aydelle, Raia, any other dark, somewhat exotic beauty. Personally, Camaline didn't see the appeal of Raia--she was somewhat pretty, but rather scrawny and angular for a girl--but she supposed she couldn't blame him for the urge to flirt with someone like Aydelle.

But if she couldn't blame him... then why did she?

To her left, the door creaked open. "Cammie?"

Camaline rose to attention as Aydelle herself waddled into the room, her swell preceding her. Instead of the gown she'd worn earlier, she donned a lacy nightgown with a woven ribbon around the waist; she reminded Camaline of a Christmas present, just waiting to be opened. "I didn't know you were spending the night."

Aydelle shrugged. "I figured it would be nice to a get away for the night--living in a house with only Eblor and a kicking little parasite for company can get rather tiresome. I'm staying in my old room, but it seems that in my absence, I've lost my immunity to your own maid's snoring." She shook her head at the thought. "Not that Eblor's is much better, but it's different. Anyway, do you mind if I sit here with you for a while? I haven't seen nearly as much of you as I'd hoped, and I feel rather awful about it."

Nonchalant--at least, she was trying to be nonchalant--Camaline nodded toward the empty side of the couch. "Well, it isn't as if I'm doing anything."

The older girl took a seat; Camaline tried to appear unaffected, but a hand on her arm told her she'd failed. "Are you all right? It wasn't anything I did, was it?"

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I imagine Leara and Ietrin are much more interesting than I am in any case."

Slinging her arm around Camaline's shoulder and heaving herself toward the center of the couch, Aydelle laughed. "Not in the slightest. You know you're my favorite--I just would have rather caught you alone, that's all."

Caught alone? That was a strange thought, albeit a comforting one; she did recall the last time they were alone, and vividly so. "Well, excluding the baby, you mean."

Aydelle rolled her eyes. "Cammie, she's not even born yet; it's not as if she knows or cares about anything happening outside of my body."

"What makes you so sure it's a 'she'?" asked Camaline, her brow raised. "It could be a 'he'."

Smiling slyly to herself, Aydelle withdrew her arm and forced herself to her feet--and not without some difficulty. "I have a feeling. Anyway, want to meet her?"

Before Camaline could answer, she learned she didn't have a say in the matter; Aydelle had grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, then taken her hand and placed it on the mound. "I do want her to know her Auntie Camaline, you know."

More out of indulgence than anything else, she let her hand hover for a minute, then withdrew it, opting to crouch so that she was face-to-face with the bulge instead; she wasn't really sure how she felt about this baby. She may have been touching something that wasn't hers to touch. Then again, perhaps it was only there because Eblor had violated something that shouldn't have been his to violate.

It must have been a splendid experience for a father, though, feeling his baby move within his wife's womb. She couldn't imagine it was nearly so pleasant for the mother.

"Well?" pressed Aydelle as Camaline returned to her full height. "What do you think?"

She needed to say something. She figured she'd go with the obvious. "I still hope she looks like you."

Grinning, Aydelle took a gentle hold of one of Camaline's braids and twirled it around her finger. "That's sweet of you. Anyway, darling, I don't imagine the baby will be able to put up with that dreadful snoring all night; would it be a horrible presumption if we stayed here?"

Was it? Perhaps it might have been. But Aydelle must have slept in a princess's bed before--who held back Leara's hair while she was ill? Camaline, of course, wasn't ill... but maybe it was a little too much to ask for a pregnant woman to travel all the way to another wing of the castle at this hour, especially since she'd taken the trouble of climbing up here in the first place. "Not at all. Here, let me help you."

She looped her arm under Aydelle's and led her to the bed, helping her onto the mattress. When she looked to be settled, Camaline hurried to her own side of the bed and reclined beside her. She'd never guessed she would have ever had to share a bed with Aydelle; it seemed a more agreeable prospect than sharing with Jeda or Leara.

But all the same, there was one thing that kept nagging at the back of her mind. "Aydelle... do you remember the last time you... caught me alone, as you put it?"

Aydelle sniffed. "What about it?"

The neutrality of her tone stung; an outright 'no' might have been less of a slap in the face. "Well... do you ever think about it?"

"Not any more or less than I think about anything else," she answered, though it was far more vague a reply than Camaline might have hoped for. "Why? Do you?"

Only every day since, Camaline thought to herself, but she was vulnerable enough as it was; she did not care to reveal that weakness as well. "Not often--just occasionally. I was just wondering if you did too."

Sighing fondly--at least, Camaline hoped it was fond--Aydelle laced her arm around Camaline's back and rested her dark head against Camaline's own fair one. "Oh, Cammie, you're such a horrible liar--and it's absolutely adorable."

Either she was flattered at the thought of Camaline dwelling on it, or calmed by the thought of Camaline not wanting to offend her by admitting she didn't... but which? She wished Aydelle would just say it. "Uh... thank you?"

"You're welcome," she acknowledged, her silken skin brushing against Camaline's cheek. "So, have you found a new teacher yet?"

Camaline shook her head as Aydelle raised her to sitting position. "No..."

"Good."

She hadn't even had a chance to register what had happened. All she knew was that she was on her back, and Aydelle was on top of her, kissing her. She could feel the baby kicking her own midsection through Aydelle's as its mother began to gnaw on her lip, only to find that it relaxed as the older girl's tongue met her own. Within her own core, something stirred; what it was, she had no idea. Was that normal? Maybe she was only imagining things.

Several minutes had passed before Aydelle broke the kiss, prying herself off of Camaline and slipping under the covers, her face aglow and her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

"You really know how to tire a girl out," she breathed, her voice like some thick, viscous liquid dripping down Camaline's ear and throughout her body. "Be a dear and get the candles? I'd do it myself, but I don't want to disturb the baby now that she's finally stopped kicking."

Camaline had no capacity for words at the moment, so she simply nodded and slipped off the bed, hurrying around the room, careful not to leave a single candle. She'd never had to douse her own flames before, but somehow, it didn't seem like such a chore just then.

At last, the only light in the room was the moon's pale glow creeping through the windows. Camaline pulled back the blanket and settled herself down next to Aydelle; despite the added girth of the baby, she took up little space. "Thank you, Cammie," she muttered, rolling toward the side of the bed. "Good night."

"Good night," Camaline replied, managing to recover her voice, if only for a minute.

Even with her back toward her, she was beautiful. How did she do it? It didn't make sense that anyone should be so perfect. It was simply illogical. Nothing about Aydelle was logical; nothing about any of this was logical, and maybe that was beginning to include Camaline herself. Maybe it always had.

Defeated, Camaline pushed her pillow toward the center of the bed and followed it, placing her arm in the narrow groove between the baby and Aydelle's bosom; her breasts, Camaline couldn't help but noticed, seemed to have swollen since she'd last seen her. She nudged a lock of dark hair with her nose and pressed a lingering kiss to Aydelle's shoulder-blade, the bottom of her lip brushing against the nightgown's edge. If the other girl noticed, she didn't seem to mind.

NEXT CHAPTER: