✔ Mrs Mandray

12. Distance

Lillian

This next pregnancy will be different.

The village was a few miles over but Isabella was content with the walk after Tomas' words last night. This next pregnancy will be different. It was ringing around her head, the implication loud.

So that's what they had been talking about. Securing an heir. She had been so naive and foolish to hope they would not have cared. It's all the upper classes care about so why shouldn't they? Especially when they run a family business.

Ollie had fallen asleep in her arms which was adorable and uncomfortable considering the pies stacked in a wood based bag on her arm. There had been a long tantrum about being left with his grandmother that resulted in him coming with his mother. Isabella knew logically that she shouldn't cave when he threw a fit but Tomas' eyes were on her and she couldn't bring herself to argue and fight with her son.

Not when the pain of losing her last child was so fresh.

Her throat tightened at the reminder. It hadn't been her fault. Not even that beast had done it intentionally but its claw had still dug into her side. The pain and trauma had been enough to force a miscarriage. Only Nesta had known what had truly happened.

The others- Isabella swallows back tears at the thought. They had said her body failed. That was the lie they spun themselves as a result of the glamour. She had simply got herself worked up into an argument with her sisters over money and the stress had kil- had caused it.

Her son suddenly feels heavier in her arms. Both comforting and a burden. She'll do better by him. She has to. Even if carrying him up the first hill felt like a chore today. Isabella forces a slight laugh, trying to brush off her previous thoughts. She really shouldn't have caved to his tantrum.

It would seem her back and arms are threatening to throw a huff as well. The scuffling of boots had Isabella looking up, freezing at the winged fae leant against a tree at the top of the hill.

A sharp inhale is the only indication of her surprise. That and a careful glance at the grove of trees they had entered to ensure they were well and truly alone.

"There's no one else here." Azriel's voice is soft and low, similar to the way one would talk to a frightened animal. "May I join you?" It's a polite question, that soothing tone maintained and Isabella curses the way something relaxes inside her. She wasn't some pet that could be soothed.

Yet she found herself nodding, shifting Ollie in her arms when he fussed. For a moment the male's gaze drops to the boy in her arms. Something in him softens slightly, she hadn't noticed how tense his shoulders were until he peered down slightly to look at her son.

"Hello little one."

Oh that shouldn't have made her heart flutter.

Oliver's hand raise, his fist tightly clenched around that ridiculous stuffed bat that seemed a mockery of the winged male before them. Isabella prayed that he would still be exhausted from the earlier hysterics and walk. The last thing she needed today was him screaming in Azriel's face.

Her son softly grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like 'bat-bat' which unfortunately for Isabella, Azriel's fae hearing had picked up on. Her chest eased though when he did nothing but gift the small boy one of his rare smiles and softly tuck the toy bat back into his arms, taking great care to not touch Ollie.

She doesn't bother to stare at his hands. A glance at dinner over 4 nights ago was enough to see the extent of the damage. There was no need to draw notice to old wounds when it was so clear from the way he immediately hid his hands that they made Azriel uncomfortable.