Sterling (35 page)

I
found
myself alone in Papa’s old office, perusing his personal library for a book of anatomy and medicine. I had strange symptoms. Serafina had explained what to do about feminine bleeding—Mama had not thought to do so, and Stesi hated to talk about bodily matters.

But Serafina had never explained what to do if my monthly bleedings stopped, nor what it meant if my insides stirred as though I had an animal living inside me. I had not bled since I’d worked in Erich’s house, and even there, I’d only had the blood moon once. Could distress or grief cause it to cease? Was it a serious health problem? I flipped through several books, but I could find no explanation in Papa’s dry volumes.

If I sent for a physician, rumors would spread that I was ill, and I did not want that. I sat down at Papa’s desk and rested my head in my hands. I was often exhausted these days. I ate like a fiend, and I’d gained back the weight I’d lost in Vorisipor and then some. Despite my appetite, I lacked vitality. I gave up my archery. Some days I spent nearly the whole morning abed. I felt utterly alone.

Since the books proved useless, I went upstairs to change my clothes. My wool morning dress irritated my skin, and with my weight gain, it was almost too tight to lace. I sent for Metty to help me into something more comfortable.

The maid curtsied. “My lady, what dress do you wish?”

My eyes filled with childish tears. Barely any of the dresses fit anymore. If Erich ever did return to me, he’d find I’d grown fat. I’d always taken pride in my small waist and thought it my one redeeming physical attribute. No longer.

My tears spilled over, and before I knew it, I was sobbing.

Metty shifted anxiously before me. “My lady, my lady.” She gingerly patted my shoulder. “Now there, it’s all right.”

“I’m sorry!” I tried to pull myself together. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m sorry.”

“I expect it’s the usual—most women get a bit teary when they’re breeding. And you being all alone with it, my lady, well, it’s only natural.”

I stared at her. “What?”

Her sympathetic look mystified me. “I know it’s not my place to comment, but we all think him a real lout to leave you in such a state, especially when you’ve already been through so much.”

“What? What state? Who?”

“Why, Lord Erich, of course.” She blushed. “It isn’t a secret you ran off with him to Vorisipor, though none of us realized...” Her voice faded as she studied my severe expression. “A decent man would be here with you in such condition.”

“What condition?” I stood so abruptly I became dizzy.

“My lady, it’s plain you’re breeding. I’ve four older sisters and I know what it looks like.” She cast her gaze at my stomach and then my breasts.

Breeding?
“Do a woman’s monthly courses stop when she’s pregnant?”

The maid blinked. “Of course they do, my lady.”

“Oh gods. Oh gods.” I put my hands on my slightly protruding belly. “Oh! I didn’t know! No one ever explained to me!”

Metty wrapped an arm over my shoulders. “Have a seat, my lady,” she soothed. “I’ll fetch you some chamomile tea, and you can sit real calm and think things through. I’ll be right back.”

Alone in the dressing room, I cupped my belly with my palms. I couldn’t think. My heart raced. A baby! Erich’s baby! Why hadn’t he written? Oh gods! I’d been pregnant in Vorisipor. I had taken that awful potion, and then I’d nearly starved the poor innocent inside me. I hadn’t known! Why had no one ever explained to me the signs of pregnancy?

I drank the tea Metty brought and retreated to my bed, but I could not arrange my thoughts into order. I simply had no idea what to do.

* * *

I
had heard rumors
, back when the world had been a normal place whose rules I understood, about a magical means of removing a child from the womb—a healer mage could do it, it was said, or he could anchor the growing life in place to ensure that a mother did not miscarry. I had no desire for the first service, but I would have gladly taken advantage of the second had magic still functioned. I wanted badly to know how my poor baby fared. I feared I had harmed it unknowingly.

Since Costas had refused to let me marry, I had understood that he meant to end the Ricknagel line by preventing me from producing an heir.

But this child—even illegitimate—would have noble blood on both sides, and that was the only requirement for serving as the Head of a House. There were plenty of precedents for illegitimate children ruling in the Ten Houses. Onatos Amar—a bastard born from the union of brother and sister—had been the most recent case.

I swore my entire household to secrecy. I did not trust Costas enough to let him hear word of my condition. I had no illusions. Though magic could no longer expel a problematic offspring from its mother’s womb, I gathered there was a mundane method: a plant potion from Vhimsantyr, expensive, but easily procured in any of Lethemia’s larger cities. Anyone who did not wish to see a Ricknagel heir had only to slip such a concoction into my tea. Better that no one know my secret.

I secluded myself in the Manor, taking no visitors, seeing no outsiders. I would protect the child I carried; it represented all my hope.

I fretted for nearly a sidereal. I worried the baby might have a mark like mine. Stesi and Mama had always taunted me with that fear, telling me that no man would want me as his wife because I’d pass the mark to his children.

Before the Fall, mages had known about such hereditary matters, so I sent for Kyro. I wanted an update about his Ophira research as well. We met in Papa’s old office.

Kyro—or Roque, as I had to remember—entered, bowing, wearing a distracted expression. Unlike nearly everyone else whom I permitted to see me, he did not stare at either my expanding body or my face.

“My lady.”

“Roque.” I practiced his new name.

“How may I serve?”

“Did you have any healing magic before the Fall?”

“Healing is a rare talent, my lady. Very rare. I had none.” He dropped his gaze. “Do you have concerns about your pregnancy?”

“I have feared to send for a physician from the city, lest word spread that I am with child. I do not wish for Costas Galatien to hear of it.” Kyro, my father’s most loyal servant, would understand my concerns even if I did not detail them. “I wish to consult with some knowledgeable person about the baby.”

Kyro smiled gently. “You mean about the delivery? When the time comes, I suggest you hire a midwife, a woman of skill, whom you can pay to keep silent.”

I nodded, too embarrassed to ask him about the inheritance of my mark. “How goes your Ophira research? Have you discovered why it has aetherlight? Have you learned if other Ophirae show the same quality?”

I still had heard no word from my aunt, despite numerous letters.

Kyro shifted in his seat. “I have made enquiries, but this is a delicate matter. It would not do for other mages to learn of a living magestone. Mages are a power-hungry lot, and most are starving these days.”

I nodded. “I understand. But surely my aunt—”

“Siomar has gone missing.”

“Missing?” I stood, balancing myself with a hand on Papa’s desk.

“I went to Fosillen to find her, but she had not been there for sidereals. No one seems to know where she has gone. Her neighbor, Alessio Rarmont—the Guardian of the Black Star Ophira, if you’ll recall—is also missing. Their disappearance is disturbing, especially in light of what we know about the Emerald Ophira. I think it best we proceed with great caution, my lady. In any case, do not trouble yourself about it. You must concentrate on yourself and your child. Is it true that Lord Erich Talata is the father?”

I blushed. “It could be no one else.”

Kyro nodded and steepled his fingertips, leaning back in the wooden chair that had always been his place when this office was Papa’s. “That is not an insignificant fact.”

“I know.”

“A child born of noble blood on both sides can be your heir. So this is not the end for House Ricknagel.”

“I know.”

“You must do everything in your power to keep your child safe, even if it means keeping him secret from his own father. You must send Lord Erich away if he returns here.”

I twisted my hands in my lap. “
I know.”
Countless times I’d been tempted to write to Erich to inform him of the pregnancy. Caution had stayed my hand. Erich would never keep
this
secret from Costas. As much as I wanted to trust Costas, wanted to be a good liege, I was simply too afraid of what he might do to the baby. Even Papa had considered doing away with Costas’s poor, innocent, problematic son. I chewed on my bottom lip, fear and fury rising like acid in my throat. Oh, it disgusted me, what men were willing to do for power.

“But we must record the child’s parentage in the proper way,” Kyro continued, “until it is safe to reveal his existence. At some point, once the baby is known far and wide, it will be too late for Costas—or anyone—to kill him. But while he is inside you, he remains at risk. It would be too easy to stage a miscarriage with eastern potions.”

“Him?”

“Your father always wanted a son. I look on the bright side.”

“Yes,” I agreed woodenly, though I hated the notion so many Lethemians had that a boy was a better heir than a girl. Kyro sounded so reasonable, speaking almost as Papa’s mouthpiece, but his words tore at me. I wanted Erich to come to me. I wanted to tell him so badly. I wanted to celebrate my baby’s coming with the whole world. New life for House Ricknagel.

Yet I could not. Not until I knew the baby would be safe.

E
rich’s letter
came two sennights later.

I
threw
the letter onto Papa’s desk as tears streaked my cheeks. He was wrong, of course. One secret remained: the baby. My efforts to hide my pregnancy had clearly succeeded. Gods above, this latest development only made everything worse. I felt guilty for having yet another secret from the King. Would it ruin all his reconfirmed faith in me? And how would Erich react?

Panic took over. My breath squeezed, my eyes watered, my heart pounded. Seconds felt like hours as the world closed in on me.

“Breathe, my lady, breathe, Nice and easy.” Words penetrated the cottony, airless thickness surrounding me. I blinked up into Kyro’s stern face. He had helped me from desk to divan, where I lay, feet up on a pillow.

“What happened?” he asked, sinking onto his favorite chair across from me.

“Erich is on his way to Shankar.”

Kyro’s expression darkened. “I don’t suppose you can send a messenger to turn him away?”

I rose and went to the desk, sliding Erich’s letter into a drawer, turning the lock. I wanted no one’s eyes but mine to see it. “It is too late. He says he will arrive on the third of Powdon.”

“My lady, he must not see you! Your state is quite visible.”

I squeezed a fist over my heart. That Bind—the
aetherlumo di fieri
one—scratched and pulled at my chest. “But—”

“If Erich Talata sees you pregnant, he’ll know it is his.”

“Would that be so bad?” All I wanted was to touch Erich, to feel safe in his embrace.

Kyro’s eyebrows drew together as he stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “It is, indeed! Your child will be the heir of House Ricknagel if all goes to plan! We know that the King would prefer the child not be born. Until the day of its birth, that child is in danger. Do you hear me, my lady?” My gaze had drifted to the Manor’s gate as I longed to see Erich galloping through it. “A drop of poison in your tea and that baby is dead.” Kyro snapped his fingers. “Just that fast.”

“But Erich would keep the secret,” I argued. “And perhaps Costas is less murderous than you imagine him.”

Kyro paced in front of me. “My lady, in this instance, caution is the only safe route.”

I gnawed on my lower lip and said nothing.

“It is not much longer,” Kyro said. “I guess less than two sidereals to go. A living baby is all we want. I will dispatch Lord Erich. He must not see you, not until after the birth, and even then, my lady, I would advise against your meeting him.”

“But—”

“Leave it to me, my lady,” Kyro said with sharp bow. “This matter is too important. The fate of the Ricknagel heir hinges on our actions.”

* * *

E
rich’s date
of arrival dawned. I was too anxious to sit, too restless to take breakfast. I felt fat and ugly and awkward. My skin itched.

Below, the house bustled with typical sounds. Every door closing made me think of Erich—was it the front door, slamming after Kyro’s delivery of a hateful message? I cursed and lurched into the hall. Kyro’s over-protectiveness was unreasonable. I had to see Erich. I needed his support. I needed
him
.

Kyro and I faced each other over Papa’s desk in the study. The fire in the hearth made my cheeks flush. I was too fat and too warm.

“But my lady, I have already sent him away successfully,” Kyro said after I ordered Erich be permitted into the Manor.

“What?” I cried.

The former mage stood poker-straight. “He came yesterday—and he was most difficult, too. He challenged me—not to mention your fictional new lover—to a duel! Do I look like a fencer, by the gods?” He gestured at his portly form.

“My fictional lover?” I said faintly.

“It was the only way to get rid of him. He was most persistent. I told him you had a new lover, and that you wanted nothing to do with him.”

“Kyro!” I clapped my hands over my burning cheeks.

“I had to tell him something to deter him. Otherwise I feared he might scale the Manor walls and enter by stealth. I truly did. My story worked. He has departed and shall not return. Your child is safe.”

I bit my nails, ladylike decorum be damned.

“All will be well. You’ll see, my lady. We have done what was necessary.” He sounded so confident.

I could not agree. Something worse than anxiety twisted in my stomach. Erich had been sent away—Erich had
allowed
himself to be sent away. After all we had been through together, a few lies from Kyro had turned him away? Tears gathered. My head spun.

He should have insisted upon seeing me, as I should have insisted upon seeing him.

My lower back ached. I sighed and lumbered up the stairs to my room. What I needed was a messenger, a good rider, someone I could trust to go after Erich and bring him back. It was the only thing to do. I needed to get out of this dressing gown—though donning real clothing seemed an almost insurmountable task—and send for Galen.

I slammed my bedroom door. A rustling sounded at the window.

“Metty?”

The sound scratched again. Had the wind picked up? The oak tree at the window grew very close to the house. I drew back the drapes.

And screamed.

A dark shadow hovered beyond the glass, a human form, clearly bent on breaking into my room. One palm pressed against the glass. It formed a fist and rapped on the glass. Just as I was certain I faced the assassin sent to kill my baby, Erich’s face lifted above the sill.

Amassis! He dangled three stories above the ground by one arm! I threw up the window sash. “Are you mad?” I leaned out the window so he could grab my arms.

He said nothing as he slid through the opening and sprawled on my pink carpet.

“What possessed you, Erich? Had you fallen, you would have smashed like an egg. Oh, my heart!” I heaved to my bed and sat, too dizzy to remain upright.

Erich stood and unwound a rope from his hips. The curtains billowed over him as he closed the window.

Then he faced me, his eyes like shards of blue crystal. “You didn’t really think I’d let a servant send me away, Sterling?”

“You could have died!” I wailed, attempting to tent my dressing gown to hide my stomach. With Erich standing before me, I didn’t know how to explain myself.

Erich ran his hands through his hair. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said. “I drove some pitons into the side of your house.”

“What?”

“So I could climb it.”

“What?”

He frowned down at me. “Tell me to my face, Sterling,” he murmured. “Tell me what that servant told me to my face.”

I flushed.

“Tell me.” Erich glared at me. He had several tools attached to his belt which jangled as he crouched in front of me and took my hands. “Are you in a fit of pique, my love? Because I didn’t write for so long? Sterling, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. There. Now will you kiss me?”

“I can’t!” I clutched my gown. “Erich—”

His face darkened as he stood. “You spoke vows to me in Vhimsantyr. I never thought you a faithless woman.”

I shook my head and more tears rolled down my face. Gods, I was such a spigot!

“Stop crying! Why are you crying?” He paced. “Sterling, what is going on?” He caught me beneath the armpits, hauling me from the bed to stand. My dressing gown fell from my hands to reveal the shape of my body.

His eyes widened. “You’re—your stomach.”

“I’m pregnant, Erich,” I blurted.

“But you said you weren’t! Sterling! I would never have left you alone so long if I had known. Why did you never tell me? You had to have known, even in Vorisipor. You knew and said nothing! How could you not tell me? It must be mine.”

“Of course it’s yours.” I sniffed. “Don’t be an idiot, Erich. There is no other man. Kyro made up that story to send you away.”

“Why in the name of the gods would you want to send me away? Look at you, Sterling. You need me here. I—”

“Erich, what do you think Costas will do if he finds out we’re having a child together?”

“I expect he’ll let us marry. He would have, before, if you’d only told him you were pregnant. I think he almost wanted you to be pregnant, so that the choice was made for him.”

“Erich, think! He won’t let me marry because he wants me to have no heirs. Your child could be an heir to House Ricknagel. Don’t you understand? Costas won’t want such a child to exist. I’ve been keeping it a secret to protect it.”