In Which Camaline Claims a Lack of Appreciation

May 14, 1178

Inconvenience they might have been, the pillows beneath Camaline's dress did make for a comfortable arm rest--as long as she made sure to fix the indentation, of course.

Not that she'd found any other upsides to all of this. It was a pain in the ass to remember to waddle about, and not seeing Lettie as often as she might have planned--Camaline's father-in-law didn't want her riding in her 'condition'--made it difficult to gauge what size she was supposed to be, even if she sent Sparron as a scout. The first few months had also been a mess of trying to keep things from slipping, but Aydelle had come to her rescue there with a complex series of belts; there was probably a story behind its design, but she'd decided not to ask.

It went without saying that she couldn't wait for July.

"Camaline."

It was her father-in-law. Great. Mindful of any disturbance to her 'middle', Camaline hoisted herself up with what she hoped was a reasonable amount of dramatic flair. "Octavius. Is there something you need from me?"

"No, but I've reached a standstill in my current task and the rest of the household is otherwise occupied. Perhaps you'd care to indulge an old man with a conversation."

Odd. It wasn't often he sought to converse with her. "I suppose it would be impolite not to."

"Indeed." He shut the door and drew further into the room, stopping at her feet. "Would you mind standing? I realize it's rude to ask such a thing of a pregnant woman, but I've been sitting all day and you seem to be in remarkably good health."

Having no proof to the contrary, Camaline obliged. "What would you like to discuss?"

Her father-in-law frowned--as if he hadn't been the one to initiate this. "Are you sure you're only seven months along? You're looking rather large."

She sniffed, picking at her wedding band all the while. "And here I thought you had more tact, sir."

"My apologies." And yet, he didn't sound apologetic at all. "Perhaps you're having twins."

"God forbid." If Lettie popped out twins, Camaline certainly wasn't taking both.

"Might I ask you a question?"

His voice was that of a prosecutor about to bait the defense. Camaline struggled not to swallow. "I'm inclined to believe you just did."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "A personal question."

These days, what wasn't? "I have nothing to hide."

"Right." Strange, just how often people said that when they weren't convinced at all. "I hope you won't fault your Aunt Holladrin, but she did mention you'd never bled."

And perhaps Camaline should have never mentioned it at all. "Oh?"

"Given your current state, would you care to give me a rough estimate of the odds? Words are fine; no need to be too specific."

Her nail dug into the flesh of her other hand, the wedding band pulled toward it. Of all the times for Florian not to bursting through the door with some bizarre emergency. "Frankly, I don't appreciate you trying to make math of my miracle."

"Forgive me, then." But he looked no sorrier than before. "I am not a man to be satisfied with mere coincidence; I would have guessed you to be of the same sort."

"And you would have guessed wrong." Careful to keep a waddle in her tread, Camaline turned around and set course toward the other door. "Good day, my lord."

NEXT CHAPTER: