In Which Anna Sees How It Would Appear

June 28, 1183

"And Telvar's not the only one getting bigger, I see!" Mona's hands, ruffling Telvar's hair moments before, now rested on Anna's stomach. Seeing as it was Mona, Anna supposed she didn't mind... but she was getting rather sick of all the near-strangers who saw her stomach and felt it was their God-given right to touch, never mind that she was their queen. The midwife said to expect the baby within the week; Anna wasn't sure if she could wait that long. "God, you must be getting tired."

"Only when I'm awake, except when I'm not." Her friend replied with a good-natured smirk. She never would have guessed it would happen when they first arrived in Carvallon, but now that Mona was married and Anna had a less familiar (if admittedly more competent) maid, she missed having her around. Mona visited when she could, as did Adinaye and many of Anna's other friends, but it wasn't quite the same as having an available companion living under the same roof. "So, how have you been?"

"Well enough, I think. A little sick, though."

Oh, really? "Sick, you say?"

Mona laughed. "Oh, you would assume it's that!" But she left it there, though the seconds-long pause left ample room for protest. "Thanks for forwarding my letters, by the way."

"It's no trouble." In all honesty, she just felt guilty about reading the things before she passed them along, but Mona had insisted and she did have a point; Anna was still supposedly Mona, after all, and therefore had to stay in the loop. "I haven't heard from your mother yet. I hope she doesn't take the news of Searle's new daughter too hard."

"Mmm. She might be hurt, but I doubt she was expecting him to name a daughter after her. Besides, grandparents get passed over for names all the time, even without bad blood there."

And yet, 'all the time' didn't seem to be frequent enough for these noble types. Her feet starting to ache, Anna sat down, her bump somehow more prominent than minutes before. "Speaking of names, you don't expect...?"

"Hmmm? Oh, no." A wink Telvar's way--for whatever reason--Mona shook her head as she joined her on the bench. "I don't think anyone expects little Carvalli princes and princesses to be named for the Dovian royals, even if their mother is from Naroni. If you'd named Telvar 'Roderick' or 'Oswald' or 'Farilon', I don't know how many of his future subjects would take him seriously."

"Carvallon does hate Dovia," Anna agreed. An odd thing to be grateful for, but thank God. "Do you think we could get away with naming this one for one of my parents? Adrius didn't object."

"I think you could. The only people who might know both lines well enough to question probably couldn't handle the sunlight if they left their monastery basements after all these years."

"I hope you're right. But if not, Adrius mentioned my mother's name to Devidra, and she said she liked it--and that there's not enough room in this castle for two Devidras anyway."

"There's not enough room for two Devidras on this continent!" Mona cackled. Anna had to smile. It was a pity that Mona and Devidra hadn't spent much time together, really; Zareth would have to invite his sister some time, without Anna and Adrius. Only, Anna thought she might like to see it. "But speaking of names..."

"Oh, so you don't deny that your sickness is that after all?" A little smug--and a little vengeful--Anna reached over to her friend's still-flat stomach. From what she recalled of being Mona's maid, it was a little firm.

Or at least, from what she could gather before Mona swatted her hand away. "I won't deny or confirm a thing. But if it is that, it would seem a little strange if I called the kid Roderick or Laralita, wouldn't it?"

A knight's wife naming children for her king and queen? It wasn't unheard of, or so Anna thought. Then again, if said king and queen's own daughter didn't do the seem, and the two had a known close acquaintance, perhaps it would raise a few brows. "I guess it might."

"There's Zareth's parents, but he says there's no urgency, so it would be up to me." Mona slouched, the fabric of her gown wrinkling as she slid, though if the pattern said anything, she'd been mindful of her middle. "What do you think of Lara for a girl? Or Derrick for a boy?"

Lara. Derrick. Shortened, perhaps... but really, there was no reason that either of those couldn't be a name of its own.

Or couldn't appear to be a name of its own. "I love them both."

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