Carlijn caught Hannalinde’s eye across the table and raised her brows, begging silently for the chance to be alone with him.
Hannalinde shook her head. Absolutely not. Another yawn overtook her.
Carlijn shared a knowing smile with Lucan that Hannalinde didn’t miss. They were determined to outlast her.
Lucan glanced at the lamp and said something sharply in the Old Tongue. The three brown moths that had taken up residence in it scattered, their powdery wings dusting the table as they made their escape.
“What did you say to them?” Carlijn asked, leaning forward with fascination.
“I told them to mind their business.” He smiled, easy and unbothered. “Moths carry stories, and stories grow wings of their own. Best not to give them anything interesting to repeat.”
“Too late for that,” Carlijn said with a wicked tone.
She was unstoppable, but so was the sleep overtaking Hannalinde’s senses. She could not fend it off forever. Pregnancy had made it impossible to stay awake when she was exhausted, and Carlijn knew it.
They were consenting adults, she rationalized as she drowsed in and out. As in scaccus, there was only so much one could do to win when one was being outplayed.
If Carlijn was her opponent in the evenings, she was Hannalinde’s greatest ally during the day. This was the simple truth of Carlijn’s companionship, and Hannalinde held it close, knowing its value. She was kind and loyal and a good friend, above all else.
They sewed together in the mornings, Hannalinde’s needle churning out the fine, nearly invisible stitches she was known for, while Carlijn’s needle produced designs with more enthusiasm and impatience. They sewed lingerie for Carlijn’s trousseau and traveling garments for her honeymoon. They made Hanna some nursing gowns for after the birth and things the baby might need: bibs and swaddling clothes and knotted dolls to gnaw upon while teeth were growing in.
“Do you think it will have pointed teeth likethem, or more like ours?” Carlijn asked, pausing with a half-finished doll in her lap.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
“It will matter aplenty when they’re latched upon your nipple!”
Hannalinde laughed and threw a cushion at her. “If you’re thinking about that, you’re bored with sewing.”
Carlijn agreed, so they put away the sewing things and played scaccus on the dining table instead. Hannalinde was more skilled, but Carlijn was a reckless player who sacrificed pieces with abandon and occasionally won through sheer audacity, which seemed to be what kept her from complete boredom.
After demolishing the midday tray, they ventured into the city together, carefully descending the Tower ladders and navigatingthe streets arm-in-arm. Carlijn’s presence transformed these outings from endurance tests into something approaching pleasure. Where Hannalinde quailed under the hostile stares and whispers, Carlijn stared back. Her deflection worked like a shield, allowing them both passage through the markets without incident.
Carlijn still had a monthly allowance from her father, but Hannalinde did not have many coins to spend, just a few leftover from the mercer’s daughter’s veil she’d stitched months ago. But she had enough to purchase some little things to add to her own happiness. Sweet William seeds to plant on the balcony. A skein of yellow-green silk to set off the fine blue one she hadn’t yet worked up the courage to use. Ginger tonic to settle her stomach after large meals and rosewater to put behind her ears.
The next day, a dish of coins appeared in the nesting chamber, placed among her combs and perfumes so she could not miss it. She glanced at her husband’s frozen form. They had come from him, of course. She thanked him even though he could not hear her and used the money sparingly, but each time she removed coins they were replaced the next day without comment.
Carlijn, who had never been an early riser, was delighted that the Tower’s social life happened after dark. She naturally began staying up later and sleeping later into the mornings. Hannalinde, whose days had been structured around available light for her stitching for nine years, found her own routine changing, too.
At first, she stayed up to supervise Carlijn’s flirtations with Lucan, but their games and conversations extended so far into the night that she could not rise in time to breakfast with Rikard before the sun rose. She woke to his stony, worried-looking face above hers as he roosted beside their nest.
“Good morning, husband,” she murmured, stretching in the furs. It really was the most luxurious bed she’d ever slept in, and she liked waking up to his protective posture. She had lost almost all fear of her true mate, sleeping in Rikard’s nest.
That night, he lingered after their shared meal rather than rushing to his office. He waited until after his parents left for a skyball and Carlijn discreetly excused herself before moving to a seat closer to Hannalinde. She was about to ask him if he had the day off when he blurted out, “Are you feeling well?”
She shifted on her bench. “Well” was a relative term these days. The child was very active, her belly was becoming unwieldy, and sometimes a nerve pinched in her lower back. But she could not complain to him. Surely his scars pinched and pulled much more. “Well enough. Why do you ask?”
“You did not rise to dine with me before daysleep. I thought perhaps you were ill.” He frowned at the table. He was pouting, she realized. He’d missed her and thought she’d rather sleep than spend time with him.
A soft laugh slipped out of her. “I meant to get up, but I stayed up too late making sure your friend didn’t take advantage of Carlijn!”
Rikard glowered even more. “I will forbid him from further visits.”
“Oh, don’t! She enjoys it too much. It will all end soon enough when the baby comes. I doubt he’ll feel like flirting when he’s being serenaded by the screams of an infant.”
He seemed unconvinced and stayed until Lucan appeared on the balcony with a bag of fragrant roasted chestnuts and a bottleof mead. He nearly dropped it when he saw Rikard perched beside Hannalinde.
He recovered quickly. “Are you joining us tonight? I brought enough mead for all of us!”
