Bile rises up my throat and lingers in the back, tempting my reflexes to allow its escape. I cup my hand across my mouth to prevent becoming sick and force myself to swallow. I grimace at the taste and look up at Zianna.
"What?" I ask. I'm well aware of what has happened, but it's unbelievable. It's been over a year. A year and a half and no child had been conceived. Why now? "How do you know?"
"Morning sickness, darling. Happens to all of us. It'll linger for a while yet."
My hands raise to my temple, rubbing circles against the sides to relieve tension. "You mean to tell me that this will be a daily occurrence?"
"Yes, for a little while, at least." Zianna sits beside me on the bed, taking my hand into her's. Her loving expression isn't returned as I'm rather aggravated at the moment. I've known I'm pregnant for mere minutes, and I'm already despising it. "I suppose when I told you about conceiving I did a poor job on explaining what to expect after it happens."
"Foolishly I hadn't thought to ask you to elaborate on it at the time," I admit, suddenly distracted at the memory. I felt ill after that conversation, and it was hard to look Garroth in the eye. It wouldn't have been so bad, but it was weeks before my wedding, and the memory was still fresh.
"Well, we have time now. You have months until you are due," she says. "We'll call for a doctor later to see how far along you are."
Just how long have I been pregnant?
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Zianna eventually leaves me be. Instantly I sprung up to dress. There's no point staying in bed anymore if I am healthy. I already have to reschedule my engagements from today, so I may as well begin to act upon that now. It's mid-afternoon, so I do not believe it to be too hard.
I didn't summon anyone to help me dress. I'm too preoccupied with my thoughts to ask for help. Instead, I reach into my closet for something easy to put on. I'm lucky if I'll be able to put the correct arm into each sleeve. Soon, my clothes won't fit me properly.
"Alex, how are you–Why are you out of bed?"
I look up from my dress, realizing I did, in fact, manage to begin to put the dress on backwards. Embarrassment overtakes me, and I remove the garment from my body.
"I'm not sick, Garroth," I say, attempting to put the dress back on correctly. Now that I can focus my mind, I can put this on like a normal person. "Your mother says so."
"She told me she was going to send for a doctor. Why would she send for a doctor if you're not ill?"
My lips purse together. The fabric falls over my body securely. I turn to Garroth, motioning for him to button up my backside. ". . . I'm not ill. She simply wants to see how far along I am."
He turns me around to face him. Clearly it doesn't click with him what I mean. His eyebrows are furrowed together, creating wrinkles across his forehead.
"Far along? What does that mean?"
I thought I'd be happier than I am now. I feel an immense amount of nerves residing within me, and my pulse is quickening rapidly. I don't feel regret, but I'm unsure if I feel happiness.
"Alex, are you–" Garroth doesn't finish his sentence.
I feel his arms wrap around me in a tight embrace. Awkwardly, I wrap my arms around him loosely. He's holding me in an uncomfortable way, so it's hard to maneuver around him.
"Yes. Your mother believes that O'Khasis is expecting an heir."
"Forget an heir," he laughs, pushing himself away from me. He leaves his hands on my shoulders, looking me up and down before dropping onto his knees. Confusion grows within me until he cups my stomach within his hands. "We're going to have a baby."
I knew Garroth would've reacted happily, but seeing it actually happen makes a sensation of relief overtake me. I can't help but to smile, pressing a kiss against the messy top of his head.
"Are you upset that it took so long?"
He looks up at me from my stomach. "To be honest, I'm grateful you didn't conceive until recently. Being newlyweds, freshly ruling a country, and having a child may have been too much. We've relaxed into our roles so much that I don't believe it to be as overwhelming."
"And if it's a girl?"
He frowns. "I don't mind having a girl."
I don't ask him anything else, and he rises to his feet after pressing a kiss against my stomach. It's a weird feeling, and he goes on talking about how the doctor must come soon so we can have an estimated length of time. Then he goes onto babbling about ways we could announce the pregnancy.
It takes me staring at how happy he is talking about this to realize that he wasn't upset about the idea of a girl. He said he wasn't, but he meant it. He was upset that I felt the need to bring it up. That that's all anyone will bring up. How a ruler must prioritize a male heir rather than a husband feeling gleeful over a healthy daughter.
"Only you and your mother know," I tell him, finding a break between his words to announce it. "I'm still reminding myself it's true as it is."
