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“Alright, anything else I should add to the agenda?” Casteel asked, helping Poppy with the drawstrings of her bodice.
Poppy thoughtfully ran her fingers through the hair she had pulled over her shoulder. “Between our meeting with the town council and supper could we set up an appointment with the royal tailor? I need some of my dresses to be let out.”
His fingers stilled at the nape of her neck. “That needs to happen today?” he asked quietly.
Poppy exhaled, nodding and laying a hand over the small lump between her hips. “I’ve put it off long enough.”
Casteel remained frozen behind her. Poppy’s eyes swept their bed chamber for any sign of what caused him to stop.
She looked over her shoulder, arching a brow. “Did you forget how to tie a knot, King Casteel?”
Shaken from his stupor, Casteel shook his head, smiling and tying the ribbons at the top of the bodice.
He placed a kiss at her collarbone, letting his lips brush the shell of her ear. “You’ll forgive me, my queen. I was not aware that you were already showing.” He nipped at her cheek. “And the prospect excites me.”
Before she could offer a teasing retort, Casteel had crossed to stand in front of her. His hands fell to her waist, holding her at arm’s length as he studied her abdomen beneath the brocade fabric of her bodice.
He frowned then placed a hand flush over the small bump. “I can’t see anything.”
“Well, I can feel it,” she snorted. “And it’s becoming uncomfortable.”
The King sighed and Poppy was reminded of a disappointed child. She laughed and watched as his expression brightened. He had always loved her laugh. Poppy felt her cheeks turn scarlet.
With a growl, he looped his arms around her waist once more and tugged her to him. “How long did you say human pregnancies lasted?”
“Nine months.”
Casteel scowled. “Bastards don’t have to wait any time at all for their partners to start showing.”
Poppy laughed again, cupping his cheek. “A year isn’t much longer than nine months you know. Besides, I thought I was the impatient one.”
“That was before you were pregnant. ”
“Well,” she exhaled, “ I for one, can bear this delay in ‘showing.’ Once I start my days of sparring are numbered.”
A wolfish smile spread on his lips. “I’ll ensure you stay active in other ways, my Queen. In fact, I’ll make it my duty to see that you don’t even have time to think about what you’re missing.”
Poppy felt herself go crimson again. The effect he had on her was eternal. It didn’t matter how many years had passed. That rakish smile, the alluring promises, they forever set her stomach curling with desire. Even a millennium would not be enough time for her to grow immune to his charms.
One hand freed from her waist and came to splay over the tiny bump below her navel. “We’ll need to start considering names, Poppy.”
“Many, many months from now when we know the gender. Yes.”
“Let me be a little proactive.” His thumb moved in a circle on her stomach, eyes focused on it as though he may be able to see inside of her. “Coralena.”
Poppy’s breath caught and instantly, she felt her eyes start to sting. Casteel’s gaze flicked up to her’s, a warm and gentle smile on his lips. To think, so long ago, she’d feared this man with all her heart. That there had been a point where she hated him. How could that have ever been so? How could the world have ever been so wrong about him? About them.
“What do you think?” he asked, softly.
Poppy sniffed, swallowing hard. “You came up with that, just now?”
Her husband shook his head. “Thought of it years and years and years ago, Poppy.”
“So I’m to take it that you want a girl?” she smiled, tearfully.
“I would be happy either way. But I would certainly adore a princess.” He tilted his head to the side. “Don’t change the subject. Coralena then?”
Poppy laughed and wiped away her tears with her knuckles, nodding. “Yes.”
Casteel’s smiled widened as he pulled her closer, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, then looking into her eyes. One of his hands lifted, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, then sweeping his knuckles over her cheekbone.
“Princess Coralena Da’Neer,” he said quietly.
“Cora for short.”
Casteel’s lips locked with her’s and she savored the warmth of his touch, the aching tenderness with which he handled her.
When his eyes met her’s again, the smile on his lips was awed and reverential. “Our Cora.”