Page 134 of Shadow Queen
“Thank you for sharing all of this with me, Caspian,” she said softly.
Chapter thirty-nine
Norahsatontheedge of the bathtub, holding her wadded nightgown in her hands. Inside it were the few spots of blood that told her there was still no child. The months had fallen away, and still there was nothing. She had consulted with fertility wisewomen, charting her cycles and meticulously planning. She had talked to the healer, and even Salara-Mae, who had put her on a regimented diet of disgustingly healthy food. And yet, nothing.
Mikael still wrestled with the foretelling of his own end, and with the nobles growing more restless without an heir, she could feel his increasing desperation with each passing month. They needed a child. As each month came and went, she felt like she was failing him.
Norah put her hand on her stomach, wondering what it would be like to have a child.A baby. How strange it would feel to have something inside—living, growing, kicking.
She spread her fingers against her skin. What if she couldn’t bear a child? No, she couldn’t think like that. She breathed deeply and tried to channel positive thoughts. She imagined herself already pregnant. But her mind drifted to other worries. Would Kharav love him? A half Northman. Would Mercia accept him?
She still needed something more positive, she told herself. What would she name him? What would she lovingly call him? She wondered if he would look like Mikael, or like her. Surely he would look like his father, and she smiled.
“Salara,” Mikael’s voice called softly, and she looked up to see him in the doorway. His breaths came short and uneven in seeing her, his eyes hopeful.
Her smile fell. He had misread her. Emotion swept through her. All she could do was shake her head.
Mikael let out a long exhale but came to her, pulling her up and holding her close. This was their monthly ritual, their monthly curse.
He kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry yourself,” he whispered.
“The summer is beautiful,” Salara-Mae said as she cut a lemon in half and squeezed it into her cup of tea. “It will be gone too soon.”
“It will,” Norah said quietly. It was late summer in Kharav and more stunning than she had ever imagined. The earth was green with life, flowers of every color covered the ground, glowing brilliantly against the black of the mortite rock.
They finished their breakfast and walked through the doors and into the sun. Since learning about Norah’s efforts to become pregnant, Salara-Mae insisted that she get regular exercise. Norah didn’t mind. It felt good to be out and stretch her legs. They’d made a habit of walking the castle grounds after eating, soaking in the light and clipping colors from the gardens. Norah had come to care for Salara-Mae. She reminded her of her grandmother—cheekily foul and unintentionally amusing.
As they walked, Salara-Mae pulled out a small sachet and held it out for her.
Norah looked at her curiously and then took it. “What’s this?”
“For the child,” she said. “Torith root, from Lorys. My cousin has written to tell me how effective it’s proven with women trying to conceive.”
“Your cousin’s in Lorys?”
“No, no. Of course not. She’s in Etreus, but after I wrote to her, she wrote her sister-in-law in Pryam, who said that her own wisewoman, who is from Lorys, recommended it. Eat it directly. But she warns, it’s bitter.”
Norah pursed her lips. Salara-Mae meant well, but at this rate, the entire world would know her plight. She could see it now: her grandmother receiving a message from a port merchant that she was trying to get pregnant with the Shadow King. And failing.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t mention your condition,” Salara-Mae said, seeming to read her mind. “I merely asked.”
This woman was as inconspicuous as Catherine. “And who will they think you’re asking for?” Norah scoffed back. “Not yourself.”
“Regardless, it’s already obvious. You’ve been married quite some time now, and anyone can count the months and know there’s a challenge.”
A wave of emotion took her by surprise. Perhaps it was the pressure, the constant disappointment, or maybe the desperation. She bit the inside of her cheek to hold it back. She shoved the sachet in her pocket and noticed Caspian approaching.
His face told her he brought news—bad news, likely. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be as bad as the conversation now.
“Queen Norah,” he greeted as he drew near. “I need to speak with you. Urgently.”
She was relieved to slip away from the conversation with Salara-Mae, but a weight grew in her stomach at what Caspian brought. She nodded to Salara-Mae, who gave a small bow of her head in return, and she followed Caspian back toward the castle.
“News just arrived,” he told her as they walked. “Aleon has taken Tarsus.”
“What?” Thatwasnews. “King Phillip has taken Tarsus?”
He nodded.
