Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 856(@200wpm)___ 685(@250wpm)___ 571(@300wpm)
“Why are you so riled up, anyway?” I asked as I waited by the door.
“He thinks you are going to go into labor today,” Leala said, handing the basket to him before grabbing the painting. “He claims to have a sixth sense about it.”
“I do have a sixth sense. I have predicted four labors.”
“Two of those four had already started. How does that count?”
“I didn’t know that at the time, though.”
Leala rolled her eyes. “Okay, go. Go, go.” She shooed him in front of her. “Are you going to go?”
Hadriel put up a finger. “Do not sass me. I am very frazzled right now.”
“Clearly.”
Weston waited for us at the bottom of the grand staircase, standing with Nyfain and Finley and little Tabitha.
“Hi, baby girl!” I gushed, putting my hands low for her. If I crouched down, I wouldn’t get back up.
She ran to me squealing and grabbed my hands. I hoisted her up onto my hip, the position awkward with the size of my belly.
“And how are you?” I asked her as I met the others.
“Let’s let Mommy hold you for right now, how’s that?” Finley said, eyeing my belly as she took Tabitha. “We don’t want to hurt Olly, do we?”
Tabitha hadn’t quite gotten my name yet.
“Here, sire.” Leala brought forward the painting, as tall as her waist and cumbersome to hand over.
He took it, looking at the image. His eyes found me over the canvas.
“It’s . . .” I shrugged. “I painted it when I first met you because you scared the crap out of me, but I didn’t know how to mix colors. Annoyed about that, I redid it. I hate unfinished projects. They told me to give it to you instead of throwing it away. Honestly, just throw it away. No hurt feelings. I was going to do it anyway.”
Weston leaned in to get a look before leaning away again. “Even with the odd colors, I told her to give it to you.”
“Let me see.” Finley went around him to look over his arm. He held it out a little for her.
“Da-da.” Tabitha pointed. “Dada!”
“Yes, baby, that’s right. That’s Daddy’s dragon.” Finley’s eyes were wide. “This inspired the product branding image, right?”
“Yeah. Toned down, though,” I replied.
“Un-tone it down.” Nyfain continued to look at the painting. “Un-tone that branding down. I want it to look like this.”
I smiled, preening a little. “It’s just a doodle, is all. It’s—”
“Do not sell yourself short.” Hadriel started trying to bustle us away. “Come on, time to get going. You can hear him gush about the painting later.”
“This is fucking amazing,” Nyfain murmured.
“Daddy! Language,” Finley said, still looking at the painting as well. “Ha! Found it.” She reached around Nyfain to point.
He pulled the painting in closer, his head disappearing behind it. “Is that . . .?”
Yeah, it was. A hidden dick with wings.
“May it help you go in heat and bless Tabitha with a sibling.” I ducked away, laughing.
“She put a dick in my painting,” Nyfain muttered. “How is that right?”
Weston wrapped an arm around me as Hadriel led us outside the front entrance, where horses and a carriage waited. Vemar sat beside the driver in a sparkly jacket that matched Hadriel’s.
“No way.” Hadriel motioned him out of there. “No! You were there when she found out. You can’t be there when she goes into labor. It’s my turn. I’ll call you when the baby is about to be born.”
He gave Hadriel a hostile stare.
“Get out.” Hadriel motioned him away. “I‘m sitting there. Get the fuck out.”
Vemar did, slowly, staring at Hadriel the whole time. If Hadriel was bothered, he didn’t show it.
He brushed past Vemar and took the seat next to the driver as Weston helped me inside. “Ready?” he asked me.
“Ready.” I didn’t bother asking where we were going. I’d done that earlier and only gotten a little smile.
It turned out we were headed to the closest city to the castle, a large, sprawling affair with a dizzying amount of people. He took me to the outskirts where things were slower, down a lane through a lovely area with large homes with gates and hedges and gorgeous gardens. At the end, Hadriel jumped out, opened the gate, and waited for the carriage to go through. He met us at a house made of brick with white pillars in front. Weston helped me down from the carriage and steadied me once I had two feet on the ground. Just that small bit of effort had me breathing heavily.
“Aurelia,” Weston said, leading me to the front door. “Welcome to your new home.”
I frowned at it, confused. “What do you mean? We live in the castle.”
“We have a residence at the castle, and we’ll keep it to be close when we need to or want to be. But the castle is owned by the royals. This house . . . is owned by us. I bought it.”