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A Lick Of Frost :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 150 из 184I wanted to know who the father was, and I could know here with the ring, insidefaerie. I turned and looked at Doyle, and found the answer I most wanted. The ring pulsed, and the scent of roses rode the air.
I turned toward Frost. A child sat beside him, quiet, and too solemn. No, Goddess, no, not like this. Even the wonder of a child, of twins, could not make Frost's loss a fair trade. I did not know these phantom children yet. I had not held them. I did not know their smiles. I did not know how soft their hair was, or how sweet their skin smelled. They were not real yet. Frost was real. Frost was mine, and we had made a child.
"Goddess, please," I whispered.
Rhys moved through my edge of vision, and the child reached up for him. It passed a phantom hand through his. He reacted to it, trying to see what had touched him. That wasn't right. I held two children inside me, not three. I was one father over the line.
But not for long, unless… I went to Frost. Galen caught me in his arms, and the ring pulsed hard enough to make me stagger. Four fathers for two babies. It made no sense. I hadn't had intercourse with Galen for more than a month, because we all agreed he'd make a bad king. He and Kitto had been the only ones who had let me indulge my penchant for oral sex to my heart's content. But you couldn't get pregnant from that.
The scent of roses was stronger. That usually meant a yes. Not possible, I thought.
"I am Goddess, and you are forgetting your history."
"What history are you forgetting?" Galen asked.
I looked up at him. "You heard that?"
He nodded.
"The story of Ceridwen."
He frowned at me. "I don't understand…" Then comprehension slipped across his face. My Galen with his thoughts so easy to follow on his handsome face. "You mean…"
I nodded.
He frowned. "I thought Ceridwen getting pregnant from eating a grain of wheat and Etain being born because someone swallowed her as a butterfly were both myths. You can't get pregnant from swallowing anything."
"You heard what She said."
He touched my stomach through the silk of the robe. A smile spread across his face. He glowed with joy, but I could not join him.
"Frost is a father, too," I said.
Galen's joy dimmed like a candle put behind dark glass. "Oh, Merry, I'm sorry."
I shook my head, and drew away from him. I went to kneel beside Frost. Rhys was on the other side of him. "Did I hear you right? Frost would have been your king?"
"One of them," I said. I didn't feel like explaining that Rhys had also, somehow, hit the jackpot. It was too confusing. Too overwhelming.
I turned toward Frost. A child sat beside him, quiet, and too solemn. No, Goddess, no, not like this. Even the wonder of a child, of twins, could not make Frost's loss a fair trade. I did not know these phantom children yet. I had not held them. I did not know their smiles. I did not know how soft their hair was, or how sweet their skin smelled. They were not real yet. Frost was real. Frost was mine, and we had made a child.
"Goddess, please," I whispered.
Rhys moved through my edge of vision, and the child reached up for him. It passed a phantom hand through his. He reacted to it, trying to see what had touched him. That wasn't right. I held two children inside me, not three. I was one father over the line.
But not for long, unless… I went to Frost. Galen caught me in his arms, and the ring pulsed hard enough to make me stagger. Four fathers for two babies. It made no sense. I hadn't had intercourse with Galen for more than a month, because we all agreed he'd make a bad king. He and Kitto had been the only ones who had let me indulge my penchant for oral sex to my heart's content. But you couldn't get pregnant from that.
The scent of roses was stronger. That usually meant a yes. Not possible, I thought.
"I am Goddess, and you are forgetting your history."
"What history are you forgetting?" Galen asked.
I looked up at him. "You heard that?"
He nodded.
"The story of Ceridwen."
He frowned at me. "I don't understand…" Then comprehension slipped across his face. My Galen with his thoughts so easy to follow on his handsome face. "You mean…"
I nodded.
He frowned. "I thought Ceridwen getting pregnant from eating a grain of wheat and Etain being born because someone swallowed her as a butterfly were both myths. You can't get pregnant from swallowing anything."
"You heard what She said."
He touched my stomach through the silk of the robe. A smile spread across his face. He glowed with joy, but I could not join him.
"Frost is a father, too," I said.
Galen's joy dimmed like a candle put behind dark glass. "Oh, Merry, I'm sorry."
I shook my head, and drew away from him. I went to kneel beside Frost. Rhys was on the other side of him. "Did I hear you right? Frost would have been your king?"
"One of them," I said. I didn't feel like explaining that Rhys had also, somehow, hit the jackpot. It was too confusing. Too overwhelming.