Page 236 of Fallen Nocturne

Rhianelle tries to remain stern, but a laugh escapes her. Coral chirps triumphantly and digs faster.

By the time we reach the beach, Rhianelle is still smiling.

The orphanage sits near the rebuilt sea wall, close enough that the children can watch the seadragons playing beyond the water gates. The moment they see the queen, they rush toward her.

Rhianelle sets down the basket and kneels among them. Coral immediately disappears beneath a swarm of small hands, rolling onto her back so the children can rub her belly.

“For you,” she says to a small girl with tangled brown hair, handing over a cloth doll. “I heard you lost yours in the flood. This one isn’t the same, but maybe she can keep you company.”

The girl’s eyes go wide. She clutches the doll like it’s made of gold. Rhianelle moves through the group, calling the children by name. She remembers their stories and asks about their hopes.

I remain several paces away and watch her listen to every answer as though nothing in the world could be more important. She praises crooked drawings, admires a boy’s missing tooth, and settles an argument over who receives the blue wooden horse.

Caring for them comes as naturally to her as healing, like she was born for it.

A thought strikes me without warning.

Children.

She’d be an amazing mother. But I can’t give her that.

I’m a vampire. We cannot create life or sire children. I have never wanted them. But I have also never asked Rhianelle whether she does, because I have always been too afraid of her answer.

Rhianelle could have children with someone else, if she wanted. But with me, she never will. It’s another thing I’ve taken from her by loving her. Another sacrifice she’s made without even knowing it.

Rhianelle finishes distributing the gifts and hugs each child goodbye. She promises to return soon, then rises and brushes sand from her dress before turning toward me.

Her face lights up when she sees me.

That smile. The one that makes everything worth it.

“You’re good with them,” I say as she approaches. “The children.”

“They’re sweet,” she says, waving when the little girl lifts her new doll in farewell.

“You’d be a good mother,” I say before I can stop myself.

Rhianelle’s hand lowers. She studies my face, and her smile softens with understanding.

“Is this about us not being able to have children?” she asks gently.

I should have known she’d see right through me.

“Svenn, I don’t want children.” She takes my hand. “I have never even imagined myself with one. Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever. I honestly don’t know.”

“But...”

“We have our hands full,” she continues. “With Coral, teaching Shade to read, rebuilding an entire kingdom.” She shakes her head. “Children would be too much. Right now, it would be too much.”

“But in the future? If you did want them?” I press.

She looks back at the orphanage. “There are so many children here who need homes. I do not think I will be ready anytime soon, but perhaps in the distant future. If we ever decide we want children, Svenn, we will not lack for choices.”

My brows rise. I had been so fixed on everything I cannot give her that the obvious answer never occurred to me.

“Love doesn’t require blood.” She leans up and kisses my cheek.

Rhianelle pulls back, smiles once more, and walks to greet the seadragons.