Andrin held the carved arm of her chair in a white-knuckled grip under the table, held her breath against the wave of nausea, and forcibly relaxed her upper body to nod politely at the courtier addressing her father. Parliamentary hearings lasted too long.
And more than any physical discomfort, Andrin was worried about what she knew was going to happen during the next recess.
Doctor Gynthyr Morlinhus had a minor appearance before the committee, but that wasn’t the real reason she was here today. Andrin had never doubted her father would move mountains to protect her, but this time it was Empress Varena who’d arranged to get one of the top doctors anywhere in Sharona into Tajvana and make it possible for her to examine Andrin undetected.
Publicly just a shadow of her husband the emperor, few people truly took Varena seriously. In many ways, the empress found that convenient, but the truth was quite different, and she was the one who’d insisted a board of the best medical practitioners be formed to study the needs of the new Sharonan Army and set policy for medical care of the sick and wounded. Even some of Emperor Zindel’s staff had questioned whether that might not be an overreaction of a grieving mother. Not even the miraculous healing abilities the Arcanans had used on Prince Janaki’s comrades at Fort Salby could have saved the prince, and no amount of healthcare policy improvements was likely to reduce deaths during battle.
But collecting bandages and assembling medicine kits gave the families left behind something to do, and maybe, just maybe, they could make an impact on the number of deaths after the battles. The recommendations so far from the new Imperial Board of Healers had been hugely popular. So much so that some were beginning to suspect Empress Varena of political savvy after all.
But no one seemed to have guessed that while all of that was useful, the true reason it had been arranged in that manner was to get Doctor Morlinhus to Tajvana once every four to six weeks expressly to see Andrin…very, very quietly.
As long as Chava could continue to claim that an unfruitful marriage was essentially unconsummated and thus legally void, Uromathian opposition to the Calirath dynasty stayed a broad threat, dispersed over a thousand ways to widow her, discredit her husband, or attack her father. Once it was known a child was coming, all plotting would focus immediately solely on her.
Glimpses were strong, clear, and utterly unforgettable. What she was having now weren’t Glimpses, unless they were some kind of spillover from an unformed Talent that might or might not be growing in her womb. That happened occasionally with the Calirath Talent…or so legend said.
Andrin had seen in fitful nightmares hundreds of ways Chava might attack her to try to kill her or destroy her unborn babe. Those panicky dreams lacked the eerie clarity of a Glimpse, thank the Gods. But still Andrin had her nightmares and woke to Howan Fai holding her and whispering her sweetly back to sleep.
But before Uromathia could threaten the child, there had to be one. So far all she knew for sure was her monthly flow was late by several weeks. Lady Merissa had gone so far as to bring in a jar of pig’s blood and soil the linens normally used during Andrin’s monthlies so any spies working in the palace laundry would have misinformation to report.
She’d need to repeat the subterfuge again in a week…unless Andrin simply started bleeding again on her own. That did happen, her mother had warned. Sometimes a pregnancy simply didn’t hold. Though Empress Varena always added with a prayer to the Mother, she hoped that never happened to any of her daughters.
The hearing break was called and Andrin left for the restroom several doors down the hall. Behind her, the closest women’s facility immediately formed a line, and Doctor Morlinhus was snatched from the end to follow a servant to another facility being opened.
The doctor walked through the door, which was immediately-and firmly-shut behind her, and took one long look at the Crown Princess.
“I should’ve known that palace staff wouldn’t go out of their way to help a random visitor find a lady’s restroom.” She looked plaintively around. “I do really need to go.”
“Of course, Doctor.” Andrin bit down a demand that the woman tell her first what her Talent showed and pointed at the carved screens that shielded a line of necessities.
The Grand Palace did do luxury remarkably well. The Order of Bergahl had maintained that aspect of it in their centuries long stewardship. A small fountain in the waiting area filled and drained hand pools, offering easy wash-ups and a soft splashing that also covered any undignified noises those using the necessities might need to make. After what seemed like an eternity, Doctor Morlinhus reemerged and set to washing her hands thoroughly.
“I’m sorry to rush you, Doctor,” Andrin said, “but we’ve only got a few moments before this meeting starts to look suspicious. I believe my mother explained that she needed you to give me an exam.”
“She said a woman in need. She did not say the Crown Princess and Heir to the Throne of Sharona carrying the next Heir to the Throne of Sharona.”
“Really? I’m pregnant?!”
“Of course you’re pregnant.” Doctor Morlinhus shook her head. “Everything feels fine. Just one mind in there though. I hope you don’t expect me to try to make it two or change the gender for you. No one can do that.”
“Oh no. Of course not! But can you tell what I’m having?”
“Too early. In another month maybe, depending on the growth between now and then. And even then I might get it wrong.” Doctor Morlinhus gave her a sharp look. “I expect the Empress will be arranging a reason for me to come back regularly?”
“I expect.” Andrin agreed softly.
“Yes, dear,” Doctor Morlinhus softened. “You’ll do fine, Your Highness. It’s just hard work expecting. Don’t wear yourself out too much pretending not to be.”
Andrin crushed the woman in a hug.
“My Talent only covers so much. All I can do is listen to how the little ones are feeling and measure how developed their minds feel. Do try to maintain a healthy level of exercise and keep away from sick people. I can only See how things are going, not what will happen if you do foolish things. Make sure to eat a good quantity of fish. It’s poor people’s food here, but it’s good for you. Lots of vegetables too. I’ll give your mother a list if she doesn’t have one already.”
“Of course. Thank you, Doctor!”
Lady Merissa knocked once on the door, and Andrin left with her, in a hurry to get back to the council chambers before anyone realized she’d just had a prenatal consultation with one of the universe’s most Talented doctors. Lady Merissa had to remind her to slow to a calm walk lest she return out of breath.
* * *
That night Andrin dreamed of waddling.
In the fuzziness, she couldn’t see her feet. Then the dream took on crystalline, almost Glimpse-like clarity and she saw a great mound of belly hid her feet from view unless she stuck them straight out. She wiggled the tips of her toes at herself. They were clean, scrubbed and painted in delicate pastels to match the baby’s sleeping room. The playroom, she was suddenly certain, had a much bolder more vibrant paint scheme, inspired by the lush plant life and bright ocean colors of Eniath, for all that the room was here in Tajvana.
A dark shadow blocked the sunlight streaming through the window. Glass shattered and knives struck her even as she turned to shield the precious bump with her back and spine. The movement was too slow with heavy weight wrapping her body in an aching layer of sustenance for her child, and hideous scarlet splashed the sundrenched playroom.
The dream reset. She’d moved the baby’s chambers to an inner suite. No windows this time, for better security. Attacks still happened, as she’d expected, but the Guard stopped each of them before they could reach the nursery or her. She rested easily with the large tummy. No elaborate painting on the toes this time, but she still wiggled them back at herself.