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The third day in a row that Pereshati wakes up feeling nauseous and barely holding it together until she reaches the washroom, she asks Daniel for a bucket to store under her side of the bed.
The fourth day, she grabs for it as soon as her eyes flutter open.
“Pereshati,” Therdeo says, still holding her hair back as she reaches for a towel to wipe her face. He’s a light sleeper, so he probably woke up as soon as she started squirming – apparently, her sleeping habits somehow managed to become even worse over the past week. “I’ll call uncle.”
“He saw me yesterday evening,” Pereshati says, and winces at how hoarse her voice sounds. “I’m not sick.”
Therdeo glances at the bucket, then back at her. The eyebags that have been slowly fading are sinking back in, and Pereshati hates that she can be the cause for both his restful and his restless nights.
“Alright,” she says, clearing her throat. “Let me just freshen up.”
There’s a ceiling to floor mirror in the bathroom, which lets Pereshati see that her own eyebags match Therdeo’s and her cheeks are sunken in. If this is what Therdeo saw, he probably went to wake up Phineas himself – which means Islette is going to wake up as well, which means she will find out that Pereshati is sick and wake up Celphi, which means that Pereshati has at most ten minutes to wash up before an entire family of worried Lapileons starts knocking on her door. And if Saoirse or Gloria catch wind of her symptoms, there will be nowhere left to hide.
It’s not that Pereshati wants to hide that her period is more than one week late, it’s just that she is scared . Celphius came to her as a nine year old, already past the diaper and crying in the middle of the night stage, and Pereshati still messed up. Sometimes, when Marvin comes over to study together, Pereshati still recalls Princess Dodolea’s words and wonders if Celphius could have had one more friend if she hadn’t been the grand duchess.
Pereshati does not remember her birth mother and does not want to remember her step mother. Of course she’s terrified of having a child.
When she walks out of the bathroom, it’s not because she’s ready, but because she knows time’s up. Phineas is waiting for her in the armchair, looking absolutely unphased.
“I sent Theo to get you breakfast,” he says by way of explanation, handing Pereshati a cup of medicinal tea. Apparently, pregnancy tea is about as bitter as the one Therdeo used to drink for his insomnia. “You know, I’m getting tired of trying to convince him you’re not on your deathbed.”
“I’m sorry,” Pereshati sighs, wincing as she sips her tea. “It’s just that I’m so caught up in trying to prepare myself for this that I didn’t even have the time to consider how I should tell him or how he’d react.”
“When did I become your confidant?” Phineas asks, in that deadpan voice of his that Pereshati has been getting better at interpreting – this time, he’s mostly just tired. He didn’t even button his shirt up right. “You do not give Theo enough credit for how fond he is of you.”
Pereshati feels herself blush – almost two years of being exposed to Phineas’ bluntness has not been enough to get her used to it, and Pereshati doubts the rest of her life will. “What’s that supposed to mean?
“Theo will take it just fine. You two make a good team – if anything happens to me, I’d leave Islette in your care.”
“Nothing will happen to you.”
“Not the point I was trying to make,” Phineas sighs. “You make great parents for Celphius already. You’ll manage that one too,” he says, pointedly looking at Pereshati’s stomach. “You’re younger than me, and even I somehow kept up with Islette running all over the place.”
“That’s really not my main concern–”
Therdeo chooses that very moment to come back in with breakfast, Celphius and Islette following closely behind him. “Do you think you could keep down some porridge?”
“Probably,” Pereshati says, even though her stomach does a flip at the smell of food. Celphius and Islette are looking at her with worried looks that shouldn’t ever burden their faces, though, so she pats their heads and puts on a smile. “I’m alright.”
“But Mom, you look like you’ve lost weight,” Celphius says, biting on the inside of his cheek.
“Are you sick like when Phineas was sick?” Islette asks, her eyes already glassy.
Pereshati feels like she’s going to cry herself.
“She’s not,” Phineas says, pulling Islette into his arms. “But we need to let her eat and rest some more, so come on, let’s get out. You too, Celphius,” he adds, patting his shoulder. “It’s too early to be up anyway.”
“You just wake up late,” Islette says, undoing his messy ponytail to tie the ribbon up nicely.
Celphius lingers, looking exactly like Therdeo did when he was holding her hair this morning. Briefly, Pereshati wonders if their child is still going to have red eyes now that the curse was lifted – she hopes they do, because this family has such kind, beautiful eyes.
“You don’t have to pick me up from school today,” Celphius says, rubbing his toes into the carpet.
Pereshati takes his hand into her and tilts her head so he has to look her in the eyes. “Nonsense.”
“But it’s a long ride, and you’re sick.”
“Which is exactly why getting some fresh air will do me good,” Pereshati says with a wider smile. “I promise I’m alright, Celphi.”
“Alright,” he says, even though he still doesn’t look convinced. He stops in the doorframe to give Therdeo a silent look that Pereshati doesn’t quite understand but is certain is related to her wellbeing, before closing the door behind him.
Therdeo sits down next to her, but keeps staring at the table and the porridge going cold. She places his hand over his, and he intertwines their fingers together, and that’s how Pereshati knows they’re going to be alright.
“I’m not sick,” she reiterates, because it feels like a good place to start. Therdeo looks at her, shoulders sagging a little with relief. “But my period is late.”
Therdeo stiffens – expression, shoulders, jaw, his hand holding Pereshati.
“There’s no certain way of telling until I’m six weeks along but–”
She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Therdeo wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his chest. Considering that Pereshati felt sick at the faintest smell of roast yesterday, her body is being awfully tolerant of having the scent of Therdeo’s lingering cologne and soap shoved right into her nose.
“I’m so glad you’re not sick,” he says, and Pereshati can’t help the small laughter that escapes her as she wraps her hands around his back. Therdeo pulls back enough to reveal his flustered face and add, “And I’m really happy.”
“I can tell,” she says, aiming for teasing and landing on fond. “Oh, and I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” she quickly adds, because this is the one thing Therdeo should never misunderstand. “I was just scared.” Therdeo brushes her hair behind her ear, rubbing soothing circles into the small of her back without a word. “I don’t know how to be a mother.”
“Celphius would disagree.”
“Celphius can talk. A baby cannot – I won’t know what I messed up until it’s too late. I don’t really know who to ask, either. I’m sure it will just bring up sad memories for Saoirse, and Gloria is too busy for something so trivial.”
Pereshati can tell she’s rambling, but Therdeo doesn’t cut her off. He keeps rubbing circles into her back until she’s let it all out, then presses a kiss to the crown of her hair. “You can always ask me. I know I don’t have any experience either, and I also don’t have anyone to ask, but you do the things I can’t do well.” He smiles, and Pereshati mirrors it. “Besides, grandmother would never be too busy for you – when Celphius was born, she barely left his room. And seeing a Lapileon child grow up healthily might be more healing for my sister than you think. You saw the way she is with Celphius.”
She was right, when Therdeo took her hand – they’ll be fine. Pereshati buries her head in the crook of his neck and traces aimless patterns over Therdeo’s nightshirt. “Aren’t you scared at all?”
“Terrified,” he says without skipping a beat. “I don’t know the first thing about being a father. But I also didn’t know the first thing about being a husband before, and you’re still here.”
Pereshati smiles, and it’s not like all of the thoughts she’s been mulling over the past few days vanish, but they suddenly seem much less important than the fact that there is a child waiting to be born, and it’s hers and Therdeo’s. From the gentle way he cups her cheeks and kisses her, she can tell Therdeo feels the same way.
He’s blushing up to his ears, and once again, Pereshati finds herself thinking, “I hope they’ll have your eyes.”
Therdeo pulls her in his lap and they bicker over it until Pereshati’s stomach, for once, hurts not because of throwing up, but the force of her laughter.
🌸
Truthfully, Pereshati saw this coming, but she still can’t shake off the maids’ looks when Therdeo follows her around everywhere that day. Instead of going into his own office, he brings his seal and all of his documents to the coffee table in Pereshati’s – she mentally congratulates Daniel for not dropping all of his files when he walks in and finds the Grand Duke cozied up on the couch, reviewing official documents in his lap. His knights are impeccably trained, because they barely blink twice when he announces that Pereshati is to have two guards at all times he isn’t personally available. The stable boy gapes a little when Thedreo demands a bigger carriage because he will accompany the Grand Duchess to pick up Celphius from school.
“I’m pregnant, not helpless,” Pereshati notes when Therdeo props the extra cushion behind her back. It’s a sweet gesture, but she can see it snowballing into ordering a dozen pairs of new, more comfortable shoes for her, then ordering at least ten different dishes in hopes she can keep down at least one , then rearranging their whole room so it’s more convenient for her.
Therdeo takes her hand, and his warmth is instantly soothing. “I didn’t think you were,” he says, his face so gentle that it makes Pereshati’s heart squeeze. “Even though this it’s our child, you’re the only one that is in pain and can’t eat, so I want to help in any other way I can.”
What a foolish man, Pereshati thinks. Two years into their marriage, Therdeo is still painfully obvious in front of her, and Pereshati only loves him more for it, to the point where it’s painful and foolish of her, too. “You’re going to regret your words. Apparently, my mother was very moody when she was pregnant with me.”
“Worse than when you’re drunk?” Therdeo is smirking, so he deserves getting the back of his palm pinched.
“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”
“Maybe if your pregnancy makes you jump through emotions faster than a bottle of wine, then I will.”
“Maybe if my pregnancy makes me so emotionally unstable I’ll kick you out of bed in my sleep.”
“Unlikely,” Therdeo smiles, like he saw it coming from miles away. “You stop squirming when I hold you.”
“Why does it feel like you know all of my weaknesses?” Pereshati leans her head against his shoulder and closes her eyes, listening to the rattling of the carriage. “We should tell Celphi first.”
“I agree,” Therdeo hums – it’s the last thing Pereshati hears before she dozes off.
He wakes her up shortly before they reach the academy, where Pereshati once again feels everyone’s eyes on them. Therdeo picking Celphius up from school isn’t such a rare occurrence that it deserves hushed voices, but the Grand Duke has only gained more popularity ever since the Crown Princess became Empress and, to Pereshati’s chagrin, his adoration for the Grand Duchess is a topic of equal national interest. These days, being in the Grand Dukedom up North feels more comfortable than being in the capital, because the people there don’t try to dress any of their words up in political plesanteries.
Celphius walks out with Marvin, and Pereshati catches Therdeo’s proud smile. He must have not had friends his age as a child, and seems to be in a particularly good mood every time Celphius asks if Marvin can come over or if he can have a sleepover at his friend’s house.
“Mother! Your Grace!” he calls when he sees them, bidding Marvin goodbye. “Why are you both here? Are you that sick?” he asks Pereshati, taking her hand in his trembling one.
“I’m not,” Pereshati says, for what feels like – and probably is – the tenth time today.
Therdeo pats Celphius’ head and gently ushers them both towards the carriage. “We can talk on the way.”
Celphius barely waits for the carriage to actually be on the way before he stops biting on the inside of his cheek to ask, “Is it because of our blood? Because that made your body weaker?”
“No,” Pereshati says firmly, taking both of Celphius’ hands in hers. He’s stopped wearing gloves now, so she can tell just how cold he feels. “No, Celphi, this has nothing to do with the curse. I’m expecting.”
It’s almost comical, how all of the tension melts out of his little body, mouth curling into a perfect circle as the information sinks in. Pereshati can practically see the moment it clicks, because Celphius smiles ear to ear, blushing with barely contained excitement – a perfect replica of the day he found out he can go to school. “You mean I’ll be getting a sibling?”
“Yes,” Therdeo says this time. Pereshati feels him sag with relief, just as she does.
Celphius’ cheeks puff up, like he has too many words to say but only one mouth to let them escape through, so they’re collecting between his teeth. “We need to prepare a room for them! And clothes!” Just as quickly, his face falls, and he whispers, “Mom, I know nothing about children! What if I’m a terrible older brother?”
“You’re a child yourself, though,” Therdeo says, like that should answer all of Celphius’ problems.
Pereshati throws him a blank look before turning back to Celphius and squeezing his hands. “You’re great with Islette, so you already have older brother training.”
“You think so?” Celphius asks, still uncertain. “I shall ask Daniel if we have any books about raising children in our library.”
“We’ll be doing the raising,” Therdeo says. “You just have to play with them and love them a lot.”
“I can do that,” Celphius says confidently. He looks between Pereshati and Therdeo and tilts his head like he still can’t fit the last piece of the puzzle. “Why do you look so relieved?”
“Oh,” Pereshati says. “We never want you to feel like you’re going to be replaced or that we’re going to love you any less, even though we might have to spend more time with the baby.”
Celphius nods like that was never a concern and he’s baffled it was even brought up. “Of course the baby needs more attention.” Pereshati worries this is another one of those moments where Celphius bottles up his feelings because he’s the heir to the Grand Dukedom, but then he flushes down to the back of his neck and fixes his eyes on the floor of the carriage. “Besides, I know that mother and father love me very much.”
Pereshati can’t help it – maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones kicking in early, or just how adorable Celphius is being, but she presses a kiss to the crown of his head. He flushes even harder, but doesn’t try to escape when Therdeo ruffles his hair.
🌸
Pereshati doesn’t wake up with nausea at the back of her throat the next day, which lulls her into a false sense of safety. Therdeo, by nature, is more circumspect – he pushes the bucket next to her vanity table as he combs through her hair. Pereshati pushes it back under the bed, just to prove a point.
It is possible that she proved the point too early – as soon as she sits down for breakfast with the rest of the family, the smell of freshly baked bread makes her retch.
She digs her fingers into Therdeo’s knee and buries her nose in the handkerchief he offers her. It smells a little like him, and cancels out just enough of the food smell to stomp down on the need to throw up.
“Pereshati,” Saoirse says, putting down her fork. “Is it possible that–”
Pereshati tries to nod, but that just makes her dizzy. Therdeo’s arm is already there, propping her up, and she’s not proud of how she leans against him for support – it’s not really pleading in her favor for the discussion she had with Therdeo last night about how she is capable of keeping up with her work, thank you very much.
“We’re going to have to do something about food,” Phineas mumbles across the table. “There’s only so much I can do with medicine.”
“Are you alright?” Therdeo whispers. “Do you want to leave?”
“I need to eat something ,” she says, more to convince herself than Therdeo. She straightens herself, swallows, and looks at Saoirse and Gloria over the table. “We’re expecting.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Gloria claps, smiling so widely that she looks about ten years younger.
“Oh my,” Saoirse says, and she’s grinning, too. Pereshati never had any older siblings, but she guesses teasing is in their nature, because once the congratulations are passed on, she raises an eyebrow and gives Therdeo a look . “Didn’t think you had it in you, brother.”
Therdeo blushes so furiously that Pereshati can practically feel the heat radiating off his cheeks.
Islette tugs at Phineas’ sleeve. “What does Perry mean?”
Celphius looks like he’s about to burst with happiness again. “It means we’ll have another sibling!”
“ If Her Grace eats. And stops overworking herself,” Phineas looks at Pereshati pointedly.
“It’s not like she’s nauseous on purpose, Uncle,” Saoirse defends her. “It might be easier to keep down liquids, so we should try asking the cook to prepare some nutritious soups and blends.”
She smiles at her, and Pereshati smiles back, relieved. “Thank you.”
🌸
Having to give up some of her work in favour of resting means having to tell Bach and Daniel about her pregnancy. If there’s one thing Therdeo and Pereshati do well, it’s task division: Therdeo takes over informing the head chef and the knights guarding Pereshati; Pereshati has to tell the Moltons and the housekeeper. The rest of the staff, they decide, should find out when they decide to formally announce it, to avoid rumors spreading.
Bach has always been the most composed Molton, but even he can’t school his face into a formal expression when Pereshati gives them the news.
“Your Grace,” he says, his voice breaking over each syllable. “That’s wonderful news. Congratulations!”
Daniel is awfully silent, which earns him an elbow in the ribs. “Pull yourself together, boy!” Bach hisses.
That’s all it takes for the waterworks to start. Sobbing, Daniel garbles, “Congratulations, Your Grace! May I hug you?”
“Daniel Molton!” Bach hisses again.
Pereshati smiles and opens her arms. “You may.”
“He went on for a while afterwards about how happy he was that I decided to stay,” Pereshati tells Therdeo later that night, which is a very condensed version of the ten-minute sobbing fit Daniel had.
Therdeo smiles, running his hands through the knots in her hair. “He came to congratulate me as well and I’m pretty sure he held the same speech.”
“He cares a lot,” Pereshati says kindly.
Therdeo hums. He runs his fingers through her hair until she drifts her sleep – she wakes up in his arms, and neither of them have fallen off the bed, so his strategy of holding her must have worked.
🌸
The Lapileons’ concerns over Pereshati not eating well at the beginning of her pregnancy feel like a distant dream two months later. Towards the end of her first trimester, Pereshati has approximately five very different and very specific cravings per day, and requests food so spicy that the head chef apparently can’t even taste it without feeling his throat burn.
“And here I was, thinking I like spicy food,” Saoirse laughs after trying a bite of Pereshati’s chicken. “Your child’s got peculiar taste buds, Pereshati.”
They’re having a girls’ day , as Saoirse kept insisting while pushing Therdeo out the door. About a week ago, he got an invitation to the castle to discuss pressing political matters with the Empress, and he’s been displeased – to put it nicely – about it ever since. “You know how long these things tend to run,” he said over dinner the night before.
“Which is why I’ll be keeping Pereshati company,” Saoirse grinned.
And now here they are, having lunch in the garden. Now that the curse has been lifted, Saoirse wears less stuffy clothes, yet even the pastel-colored summer dress she is wearing makes her look dignified.
“This might be insensitive to ask,” Pereshati starts, “but is this… difficult for you?”
Saoirse’s face is a gentle, wistful thing when she answers. “I’ll always moarn my child and my husband. But I’m also excited for the first child without a curse to be born in this family, and I’m happy it’s Theo’s.”
Pereshati thinks maybe having an older sibling is only half teasing, half actual concern and constant worrying. “None of us had an easy childhood, but Theo had it the hardest – our father has been preparing him for war ever since he was old enough to hold a sword. Most Lapileons avoid injuries with everything they can, but Theo was covered in blood more days than he wasn’t. He carried a burden that shouldn’t have been his to carry at an age where he should have only been worrying about having some harmless fun, and for that, I’ll always feel guilty.”
Pereshati fills Saoirse’s cup of tea. “I doubt he ever held you accountable for that.”
“Theo rarely holds people other than himself accountable for the worst things,” Saoirse says around a rueful smile. “So really, Pereshati, thank you. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough to thank you for all you’ve done for us, but I think the biggest of them all is giving Theo the chance to have a normal life, and a child he can ensure the childhood he never had for.”
More than ever, Pereshati hopes their child will have the Lapileons’ red eyes, and that no one in the family will look at them and be reminded of the curse.
Pereshati’s eyes flutter open when she feels the bed dip, and the familiar feeling of fingers pressing against her pulse point registers. “Therdeo?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Therdeo whispers. His hair is down and he smells like he’s just bathed.
Pereshati smiles and rolls over until her head hits his chest and her arms wrap around him. “Welcome back. I missed you.”
She feels Therdeo’s lips curl into a smile against her forehead. “How was your day with Saoirse?”
“Really good. She gave me some really good advice about pregnancy clothes.”
“Hmm. I should call the seamstress soon.”
“How was the meeting?”
“Boring,” Therdeo sighs. “I think we should officially announce that we’re expecting soon.”
Pereshati peels her head away from his chest to look in his eyes. “So you can use it as an excuse and not attend the meetings?”
“I worry when I’m not around you.”
She wants to tell him there is no reason to, but she knows Therdeo still has nightmares about her dying by their blood. She can tell when he’s had these nightmares, because she’ll wake up with Therdeo’s fingers pressed to her pulse point, and will hug him as tightly as she can, until it almost hurts, just to give him physical proof that she’s still here.
“We should announce it together,” she says instead, stroking his cheek.
Therdeo smiles, and Pereshati hopes their child will have his smile, too. “I love you,” he says, out of nowhere.
Except Pereshati is starting to show, and that’s proof enough that this is the farthest thing away from out of nowhere . “I love you too,” she says, happier than she ever thought she’d be.
🌸
“What are you two doing?”
“A list,” Celphius and Therdeo chorus.
“What type of list could make you look this focused?” Pereshati chuckles, peeking over Celphius’ shoulder. “Ah,” she says, understanding sinking in. “How long have you been at this?”
“This is the third revision,” Therdeo says, very seriously.
“The next step is to create a shortlist,” Celphius adds, just as seriously.
“Where did you even get this many ideas from?” Her eyes trail over the study, which seems full of fairytale books. “Ah,” she says again, endlessly fond of her boys.
“Islette also came up with some names,” Celphius says as he’s pouring over the list. “I asked everyone in the residence what their favourite names were and compiled a list of that, too.”
“You don’t have to put that much pressure on yourself,” Pereshati says, pushing Celphius’ fringe out of his eyes. “What’s important is to bless this child with a name that shows we love them.”
“But His Grace is already decorating the nursery,” Celphius says, half-pouting. “I want to help with the name.”
“Then, what is your favourite name, Celphi?”
Celphius purses his lips around the tip of his pen. “Darius if it’s a boy,” he says shily.
Therdeo nods along with Pereshati. “And for a girl?”
“Larissa,” Celphius mutters.
“Those are really beautiful names, Celphi.”
Celphius tries to cover his blush by changing the subject to Phineas having gifted him a book about raising children, but Pereshati thinks Larissa Lapiloen is a wonderful name.
🌸
Four months later, Larissa Lapileon is born in the middle of the night, after sixteen hours of labor. Pereshati is exhausted. Judging by the fact that now-permanent eyebgas Phineas is sporting have birthed eyebgs of their own, he must also be exhausted. Pereshati can hear Celphius and Islette pacing outside the door with Daniel.
Therdeo looks like he’s on the verge of crying as he gathers Pereshati in his arms and kisses her forehead. “I’m so sorry. You were in so much pain.”
Phineas holds the bundled baby with a tiny smile, and even though he looks like he wants to sleep for the next sixteen hours, he also looks happy. “Do you want to hold your daughter?”
Your daughter doesn’t feel real. Pereshati holds out her arms for the little crying bundle, and is greeted by a tuft of pink hair and piercing red eyes. That’s their daughter – the first Lapileon in decades that won’t have to worry about wearing gloves and seizures and anything but how to cause the most mischief without being scolded. She’s going to be the most spoiled child, if Pereshati’s experience as a Lapileon is anything to go by. She’s going to be treated more like a princess than the Crown Princess ever was, and Pereshati feels her heart burst.
“It was worth it,” she says, booping her daughter’s button nose. “Look at her.”
“She’s perfect,” Therdeo says, and now he’s crying. “Thank you, Pereshati.”
Pereshati looks at Therdeo, at those red eyes which used to equate misfortune, and kisses him like they’ve finally reached the starting line.
She’s still scared of not being a good mother, and Therdeo still checks her pulse in the middle of the night, and Celphius still reaches for his gloves on sheer reflex, but as the room fills with her family, Pereshati thinks Larissa is the most loved child that was every born to the Lapileon name, so they’ll be fine. After all, Therdeo is still holding her hand.