Four months shuffled by at an infuriatingly slow pace, as if to intentionally spite Luvenia.
The worst part for her was the mood swings that sent her reeling at inconvenient times. It was hard enough to handle the irrational feelings themselves, but suddenly bursting into tears during council meetings was almost beyond endurance.
"I hate this," she confided to Millie at the end of a particularly difficult day, slouching in the chair at her vanity table. "I'm so tired, my mind is a mess... I want this to be over."
Millie gently massaged Luvenia's tense shoulders. "Of course, madam, of course! You've done very well in spite of it all, but that doesn't make it any easier."
"I think I might..." She interlaced her hands over here swollen belly. "I'm starting to hate the baby—my own child. What kind of mother am I??"
Instead of answering the question, Millie gave her a hug from behind. Luvenia felt tears welling up yet again; she sobbed in frustration.
"It's all right, your majesty. No need to hold back."
She could not have held back regardless, but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.
When the knot in her chest finally loosened, she gave Millie's arm a companionable squeeze. "Would you fetch a damp cloth for me? I'd like to wash my face before anyone sees me like this... again."
Millie did as she was asked, and more besides, dabbing powder around Luvenia's eyes to reduce the telltale redness.
"Madam, may I speak freely?"
"Yes—please do."
"I don't think you really 'hate' the child." She smoothed the powder across Luvenia's eyelids with a practiced hand. "It's natural to resent someone who puts you through a difficult time, but in your heart you know it's not the baby's fault. You've been so careful to avoid anything that might harm the child; you wouldn't have done so if you truly hated it."
"Millie, don't make me cry again."
"Forgive me, your majesty. I only wanted to lift your spirits."
"Tears come from high spirits as well as low." She took Millie's hands and pressed them warmly. "Thank you. I really don't know what I'd do without you."
Millie smiled, a little shyly. "I owe you more than I can repay for bringing my Theriar here to me."
"Nonsense. –How is Theriar doing, by the way?"
"Thriving, madam. He was a bit bewildered when Sir Weszin smuggled him back, but, now that he's in with the knights of Middewold, he's warmed up to the place considerably."
"Good." A surge of emotion set her eyes stinging. "Oh, damn... Here I go again."
She was both grateful and annoyed when Millie gave her a handkerchief.
***
Time did not regain its usual breakneck pace until the first week of the first month of spring, when the kingdom held an extended celebration in honor of its monarchs' births—and Beaucaire came for another visit.
"Thank the gods, you finally look properly pregnant!" was the first thing he said upon seeing Luvenia.
She punched his arm, not very hard, but enough to convey her dissatisfaction. "You mean I'm huge and ungainly. I've had to have new dresses made because I can't fit into Mother's anymore."
"You look healthy. That's all I've worried about since I last saw you: whether you were eating well and sleeping enough." He hugged her from the side to avoid pressing on her belly. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, for now. If I start crying, it's not your fault—I'm just slightly out of my mind."
Beaucaire kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry you're not enjoying your birthday."
"Who said I wasn't?" She leaned against him, feeling his breath stirring her hair. "It might not be perfect, but it's the best birthday I've had since Mother died."
A delicate silence fell between them. There was an understanding that their mother was a forbidden subject in Alatir; even in Middewold, where Eddard the Faithless had no power, his children still felt his shadow upon them.
"Do you still have nightmares about her death?" She felt Beaucaire shift uncomfortably and nudged him. "And don't you dare lie to me."
"Not often. Not always about her, either. Sometimes it's... one of the others."
It was hard for Luvenia to hear the names of her lost brothers and sisters, much less to say them aloud. Their deaths were graven in her heart as deep scars, only painful when they were touched.
"What about you? Do you ever...?"
She shook her head. "All my nightmares are about something happening to you."
"I'll keep my promise, Lu."
"I know, but... say it again, please."
He murmured the words just loud enough for her to hear.
"I promise to be good, and to never leave you alone."
Luvenia shivered. Beaucaire tightened his embrace. They stood together, breathing almost in unison while their tears fell in silence—just as when they were children, joined in fear and grief.
From the other room drifted the maids' merry voices. With a quiet sniffle, Luvenia eased out of her brother's arms.
"I must look dreadful," she griped.
"You're fine." Taking her face in his hands, he smoothed away the tracks of her tears with the pads of his thumbs. "Just a little... pink."
She yanked a handkerchief from her sleeve and threw it at him peevishly. "I'm tired of being pink!"
Beaucaire burst out laughing. Luvenia tried to give him a dirty look, but she was quickly overcome by a fit of giggles.
"I'm glad you're having such a good time." Gorogon sauntered into the room and went directly to Beaucaire, catching him around the waist and holding him close. "Meanwhile, I've been toiling alone in the study, governing all by my lonesome!"
Luvenia gave an exaggerated sigh of feigned annoyance. "Don't let him fool you, Beau. He's the one who insisted I take the day off."
"Don't let HER fool you, Beau!" countered Gorogon in affected innocence. "I worked on MY birthday."
"Because you wouldn't be here yet, and he wanted to take his day off to spend with YOU."
Beaucaire raised his hands in mock surrender. "Gods' sakes, don't make me the centerpiece of your marital disputes! I can't divorce EITHER of you!"
Before the conversation attained further heights of silliness, the royals were interrupted by the arrival of the maids with Luvenia's festival outfit.
"All right, you two, time to leave." She gave both of them a gentle shove toward the door. "Time to find out just how odd I'll look in this dress."
"You look lovely in anything!" protested Gorogon.
"Correct answer—and yet so very wrong. –Beau, make sure my husband gets back to work so he can play with you tomorrow."
Her brother performed a grand theatrical bow. "Yes, your majesty!"
The maids kept quiet until the men had left. When the door closed, they started chattering like a flock of songbirds.
"You're absolutely radiant today, madam!"
"You'll be the talk of the kingdom in this gown!"
"Have a seat, your majesty, and we'll see if these shoes are comfortable."
"I've brought your sapphire set. It matches the gown perfectly!"
Luvenia's breath caught in her throat. The sound was very subtle, but all four maids fell silent and turned their attention to her at once.
"I love you all," she whispered, and hid her face in her hands.
It was comforting to be hugged by her maids, but Luvenia wondered ruefully whether she would ever be able to stop crying for more than two minutes. It didn't help that the empathetic Mellie was highly susceptible to Luvenia's heightened emotional state and frequently cried right along with her.
"Oh, Mellie..." muttered Mollie, dabbing the younger maid's face with her own sleeve. "At this rate, we'll end up as a seaside kingdom!"
***
The double birthday celebration whizzed by and ended all too soon. Beaucaire left for Alatir, even more begrudgingly than usual because he would not be able to return to Middewold until well after the baby was born. Eddard had made it painfully clear that he would not let Beaucaire come back alone, and he himself had declared his intention to visit six months after the birth for the child's ceremony of dedication.
A month passed so quickly that Luvenia could hardly believe it. Surely it had only been two or three days since Beaucaire's departure. How could the baby's birth be due in only three weeks??
She said as much to Dr. Danacy, who did not seem in the least surprised.
"You wait, then you hurry. This is the way for many women. It is very usual."
Luvenia felt palpable relief, but Gorogon still looked very nervous. The doctor had all but commanded his presence at this particular meeting without saying why he was needed.
"The time, it is very soon! So now we must make the plan for the baby to be born."
"Plan?" echoed Gorogon in a bewildered tone. "Doesn't it just... happen?"
"Yes, but also no! We must find the manner for the mother to be most comfortable, to make only the smallest of pain to happen."
"How?"
The little woman gestured expansively. "Many things! but this is the first time for her majesty to be a mother, so I will ask questions to help."
"All right."
"The first question is who is to be in the room with the mother, but the answer is known, yes? I, the doctor; and his majesty, the father. My assistant is to be waiting in the other room if there is a time when I need him, but only those who are of comfort to the mother are to be present. The next–"
"Pardon me, doctor." Luvenia self-consciously cleared her throat. "There's one more person I would like to have with me: my personal guard."
Dr. Danacy glared in the direction Luvenia indicated, at the hulking cloaked figure who had been loitering silently in the corner.
"It is necessary for the mother to be comfortable," she said tightly, "but it is also necessary for the doctor to be comfortable. I will not have one in the room with a face which is covered."
Luvenia turned and nodded to Hanna, who took a small step forward and removed her hood.
"Hello, doctor. You may not remember me–"
"Oh! I know this one!" Dr. Danacy's suspicious look had evaporated in the brightness of her smile. "On my journey to your kingdom, I met this one on the way! So shy then, so shy now!"
Hanna looked very shy indeed, but the unscarred corner of her mouth turned up.
"This one is one that I like. I will allow the wearing of the cloak because I will know who it is who is inside it. Her majesty chooses well. Let us continue!"
They went over how to be reasonably certain that labor has begun, the typical ways in which it might develop and progress, and how to seek relief from the inescapable pain.
"In some lands it is usual for the woman to stand, and in others to sit, and in yet still others to squat or to rest on the elbows and knees. They tell me that it is usual in this place to lie on the back, but this is the worst way!" She shook her head disapprovingly. "My assistant says that he has helped many women in this way—but the best birth, he says, was from a lady who wanted to bear in the manner of the country of Peresse, seated at the edge of a chair as she labored. If this way gives to you a feeling of comfort, I say to you that we must make a plan of it."
Luvenia had never been to Peresse, but something about it appealed to her. It was where her mother had tried to flee with her, a place that Ligeia had considered safe.
"The Peresse way seems good," she agreed.
There followed an amusing interlude of the tiny doctor physically demonstrating the correct positioning for Hanna (played by herself) and Luvenia (played by the doctor) during the later stages of labor. The king and queen couldn't look at each other for fear of bursting out laughing at Hanna's awkward poses and Dr Danacy's energetic performance.
"So, that is that!" The doctor clapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Now there is only remaining the one question, and that is the name of the child to be born. It is important—not for the doctor to hear, but for the mother and the father to say, to know and understand that it belongs to their child."
Luvenia glanced at Gorogon, who nodded slightly before looking away.
"Cairon." She caressed her belly. "After my brother, Beaucaire, and... Lord Caradon, the ambassador who showed me kindness and respect when I was still a princess."
She wanted to squeeze Gorogon's hand, but his arms were crossed tight over his chest. Perhaps he had lied about the name being all right when she asked him earlier. Perhaps he was simply overcome.
"Ah, this way of naming is known to me. It is also the way of Peresse, I think."
"It's how my mother named my brother, and it feels right to me."
"Very good! Now all that remains is to wait."
"I hate waiting," grumbled Luvenia. "There ought to be a law against it."
She was startled, though not displeased, when Hanna responded by laughing aloud.