“I nay thought it mattered.”
“You nay thought it mattered? Are you insane? I am thirty-two years old, and if I’m lucky, I’ll live until I’m well into my eighties or maybe even nineties. That doesn’t concern you?”
“Nay, my love,” he said. “Because as long as ye remain in this realm with me, ye will age the same as I.”
She stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“Aye.”
“What else have you not told me?”
“If we ever decide to reside in the Dark Kingdom, we will live even longer.”
“Even longer than what?”
“Longer than is possible here—by several thousand years or so.”
She drew up her legs, curled over onto her side, and hugged her belly, hissing with the pain. “We will discuss this more at a later date. But know that I am not happy with you. You don’t keep me in the dark about important stuff. Understand?”
He offered a solemn nod. “I understand.”
“I see the babes have decided today shall be the day,” Mairwen said as she entered the room.
“They are taking their sweet time, though,” Emily informed her.
“Patience, child. Bringing forth new life is an honor. Relish it. The pain will quickly pass as soon as ye behold yer babes.” Mairwen moved to the other side of the bed, then frowned at Gryffe. “And why are ye still in here, grand chieftain?”
“Because I want him in here!” Emily snapped with a look that dared Mairwen to ask any other unwise questions.
“I believe my wife made that clear?” Gryffe said to the Weaver, unable to resist the temptation.
“Gryffe!” Emily squeezed his hand and groaned as her birth waters soaked the bed. “It goes faster now, right?”
He looked at Mairwen and Tayda, who both barely shook their heads.
“Deep breaths, our lady,” Tayda instructed. “And tune yer mind to something other than the pain. Ye can control much of it, if ye but try.”
“I am trying, dammit!”
“What names did ye decide upon, my own?” He had to get Emily to focus on something other than her increasing agony. “Did ye choose any of the ones I thought might do, or did ye settle on yer family names ye mentioned?”
“I settled on,” she said, sharply huffing and blowing. “Quinn for our son, and Saersy for our daughter.”
“Those were my favorites.” He matched her puffing, trying to breathe the same to encourage her. “Are ye certain?”
Tucking her chin to her chest and groaning, she finally bobbed her head. “Yes. Quinn and Saersy. I like the way it feels to say their names. It’s almost as if they chose them.”
“Perhaps they did.” He caught her as she sagged back against his chest, already exhausted from the pains.
“You know we could do this all night,” she said, peering up at him with a hopelessness that broke his heart.
“I have nowhere else to be but here.”
“Where is Grimalkin?” she asked, aimlessly looking around.
“Over there.” Gryffe nodded at the other side of the room. “Pacing.”
Hours passed, and the pains came fast and furious. If Gryffe had never admired and fully appreciated Emily before, or thought her strong and fearless, he did so now. She was braver and more resilient than any warrior wounded on the field of battle.
