It wasn't a month later when Leana was bent over the windowsill, emptying her stomach contents into the rosebush below. She heaved and retched until there was nothing left from her meal the night before. Shakily, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood, closing the window. This was the third time this had happened and with each occurrence, the reality finally set in with her.
Leana turned to say Jay sat up in the bed watching her. She had left him fast asleep! Curled up in the throng of endless blankets, how long had he been awake? He was beautiful there, his face now fully healed, only a sleek, scar traced down the side of his otherwise perfect face. His mossy hair was a tousled mess framing his head, his slender wings peaking over his shoulders, twitching gently.as they stretched the laziness of the night away. She only scowled, unable to face him honestly with her despair, turning to reach for a robe and pulling it over her shoulders but he wasn't about to let it drop. He clambered from the bed, the only thing covering him from those in the gardens bellow, a loose pair of cotton pants that he normally slept in to shield from the cold which he was not used to. He walked over in silence and touched her arm, his calloused fingers running over her bruised skin through the thin fabric of the robe. "How long?" He asked gently, understanding instantly what was going on. Leana was genuinely surprised that he hadn't smelt the child inside her – fae males were often blessed with the ability once they had become intimate regularly with a particular female. She had hoped and prayed that he hadn't yet developed this special scent. He wasn't angry with her? Well, if he wasn't angry then, he would be after she told him.
"A week," She spat, pulling from his grasp, ashamed of herself beyond expression. "It's not yours, there's no way I'd have symptoms already," It had barely been five weeks since she first slept with Jehovah, it must have happened on one of Deploma's many unwelcome visits to her human home before everything went to shit. She'd know when Keomie looked her over exactly when the baby was conceived, not that she particularly cared. She turned to the window and braced herself on the rough sandstone, trying to ease the ache in her stomach. Warm arms wrapped around her from behind as Jay nestled his head into the crook of her shoulder.
She shook him but he didn't budge. "Jay, someone will see us," She groaned but his hands only splayed across her stomach.
"Let them," he purred in her ear as he snuggled further into her shoulder. It was true that their relationship was no secret, Jehovah's name amongst the nobles had already evolved to 'The Queen's Whore' but he didn't mind. Ironic, a title he had spent years detesting, he now welcomed with open arms. Turns out it wasn't the name that bothered him, it was the queen in question. After what seemed like hours of staring out the window at the sunrise, Jay's ears pricked up at the sound of gentle sobs. He twisted her around, taking one look at her tear-soaked face and pressed her to his chest, tenderly stroking her hair.
"I can't do it," She bawled as she gave up on being quiet. "I can't bring a child into this life," She cried. Her emotions were all over the place, this was not the moment to be discussing this. Of course, there were options in the human realm that could be an option, but Jay refused to allow it. He would sooner take the child away himself and raise the babe away from its father than let Leana go through that and deep down, she agreed.
"Yes you can," he told her, extending his arms and holding her by the shoulders before him. "If anyone can, you can,". She still looked away. Biting his lip, he dragged her before the large mirror against the wall of her chambers, placing her in the dead centre, reaching out to the vanity and taking the crown which she had discarded as if it were no more than trash. Weighing the vital symbol in his hands he examined the crown. It was a beautiful piece! Made for Deploma's future wife upon the command of his mother – Leana had told him once. The metal was black, the stones dazzling amethyst that gleamed from the sunlight pouring through the window. He positioned himself behind her and gently placed the tiara atop her head. Reaching around to lift her chin and force her to stand tall, admiring herself.
With that, he moved to her side with that beautiful grin of his. "You are Leana Payne, Queen of the Unseelie Court. Make him regret the day he played his cards," With a smile, Jehovah dropped to his knee before her and bowed. He always knew that his destiny was not to lead, but to bow before a powerful queen and serve her until his last day, little did he expect that queen to be his future wife. He had made up his mind, the second that she gutted that sadistic fuck, he would wed her. She raised a shaking hand to his head and pulled his face into her skirts, he wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled himself against her as she cradled his head, her fingers tangling themselves in his locks.
Later that day, Leana stood before Deploma's chambers, her hands shaking. Upon Jehovah's encouragement, she had dressed to her highest ability – she looked like a queen and she demanded respect. Her crown high atop her head, jewellery shining every inch of her skin, a large purple ballgown. She lifted a hand to knock but then stopped herself, she was his wife and queen! She need not knock. Leana grasped the handle and pushed her way inside. For once, the king looked as though he was working. He was dressed officially, bent over a table, studying a map – the map of the Seelie lands that she had mapped. She watched him, remembering how she used to when he was simply a prince learning all the qualities that a king would need. She used to love the sight of his calculating eyes scanning every detail, the same way that they travelled along her outline whenever she saw him each morning. The queen shook the memory from her head and crossed her arms as he looked up to her. His eyes scanned her before he returned his gaze to his work. Arrogant prick. Leana rolled her eyes as her mouth pressed into a tight line. "We need to talk," She told him. He raised a ringed hand and waved her off.
"Later," He growled, clearly turning something over in his head, something that, as The Black Knight, she would have been told, but now… Leana growled, storming over to the table, gripping that precious dagger of his that was hanging off the edge of the table and thrust it deep into the wood right between his thumb and forefinger. He only looked up to meet her enraged stare before he pushed up from the table.
"Very well, my darling," He sighed as he turned to take a seat on a chaise, the same chaise that he had kissed her so passionately against all those years ago. It enraged her to see him lying across it now.
"Don't call me that," She hissed.
"Why ever not, wife?" He smirked, it was as if he could smell the fire burning in her chest.
"Because it sounds foul coming from your poisonous mouth," She snarled, standing before him and cornering him like a predator would its prey. "I am with-child," she told him. There was no point avoiding it any longer. He said nothing, his eyes only drifted to her stomach. Leana held her head high. "Meaning, that from now on, if you so much as lay a hand on me, I will not hesitate to kill you," She warned, for a moment, she swore she saw his throat bob. "Very publicly and very intimately," She purred.
With that, she spun on her heel and went to leave the room, the king still remained silent. Her nails raked down the side of the door as she flashed him that wicked smile of hers that he hadn't seen in so long. "Cheer up my dear," His skin flushed cold as he realised that she had won this round when she repeated his own words to him. "This is what you always wanted, isn't it?" She grinned as she left the room, the king slouching against his chaise trying to process what had just happened.
Seven months later, and Leana was showing significantly. She had been treated like a dying breed those last few months. Pampered and prodded by Annette who had seen many royal births in her time – including both Deploma and even Ariana's. She sat at the desk in her chambers, Dronolas lounging on the bed, crunching his teeth into an apple. The smell of her was intoxicating. Now, being so far along, the smell of the pregnancy was obvious to most males. There was no explanation for this happened, but the best scholars could come up with was that the scent evoked a primal instinct within the males to protect pregnant females. Seemed about right.
With a flick of her wrist, she signed the letter, folded it and melted the wax. Opening the drawer of her vanity, she found two stamps. One of which was the Unseelie crest, the other was the symbol of her father's name – a thorny rose. Gently, she took the latter and pressed it to the wax. She would never use the crest again. After the wax had hardened, she stood, handing the letter to Dronolas who took it gingerly and stood. "You're sure that this is what you want?" Leana nodded, biting back tears. The sorrow in Dron's eyes was incomprehensible as he tucked the letter into his pocket.
As he reached the door, Leana's now powerful and commanding voice chirped up from the window. "Don't tell Jehovah," She begged. Dronolas bit his lip.
"He's going to find out eventually," Leana looked out to the gardens where the roses were beginning to wilt early – it was to be a rough winter.
"I know," She murmured and Dronolas left without another word.