My throat burned as I swallowed hard. “How can we repay you?”
Thérèse waved a dismissive hand. “Bearing a living child will be payment enough.”
Then, she grinned, revealing two gaps where teeth once were.
Before I could respond, she stepped forward and wrapped me in a warm, solid embrace.
For a moment, I stood frozen.
Then, I sank into her touch, letting the comfort of it wash over me.
It reminded me of Amara, Roman’s housekeeper—the same strength and quiet comfort.
Safe. Secure. A moment of protection in a world full of uncertainty.
And then, just as quickly, she released me.
She shooed us both away, ushering us toward the door, her work done.
Emily and I stepped out of Thérèse’s house, the moment’s weight still lingering in the air, before returning to the wagon.
Emily let out a breath of laughter, nudging me with her shoulder. “So, sister mine… we’re both pregnant.”
I shook my head in disbelief, my heart pounding in my chest.
“I can’t believe it,” I murmured, my fingers brushing over my stomach.
A flood of heat rushed to my cheeks.
Because I knew when it happened.
The last night at Malik’s house.
It had been magic—Roman’s hands on me, his body moving with mine, the world falling away until there was only us.
And now, we were having a baby.
I uncorked the yellow-ribboned vial, tipped it over my tongue, and let six bitter drops fall into my mouth.
Swallowing, I tucked the precious vials into the corner of the wagon.
Emily plucked a long-stemmed blade of grass and stuck it between her lips, shaking her head.
“I wish I’d had a Thérèse Brès when I was sick as a dog.” She sighed dramatically. “All I had was a Malik. And then, Marcellious.”
She flashed me a side-eye smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m overjoyed to have Marcellious back. But men? Useless when it comes to morning sickness.”
I laughed softly, leaning back against the side of the wagon.
“I know. Poor Roman has tried everything to comfort me, but he could do nothing.”
I exhaled, closing my eyes for a moment. “At least now we know what’s happening.”
A whistle pierced the air.
I saw Malik, Roman, and Marcellious riding up the hill, their horses snorting with the effort.
