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The grip Casteel had on Poppy’s hand was tightening with every passing moment. His foot tapping on the stone floor of the infirmary incessantly. She turned to face him where he sat beside her on the cot, raising her brows expectantly.
He was chewing his bottom lip, a deeply distracting gesture any other time...
“Casteel?”
He continued staring straight ahead. “Hm?”
“Watching the healer’s office door isn’t going to make her come out faster.”
“I know that.”
His honey hued eyes wouldn’t leave the far end of the infirmary though. As though he were trying to will the healer to come out and declare the potion’s results. They’d already completed the regular check in, all that was left was to learn the gender. Information they’d been unable to gain on their first attempt to check and second.
“Are you nervous or excited?” Poppy asked, genuinely curious.
He looked at her, a sheepish smile on his lips. “The gender isn’t important, but I would like to know if I was right. And if we’ll indeed have a Cora.”
“You say it isn’t important but then you say stuff like that.”
“Truly,” Cas said and lifted their intertwined fingers to his lips, “a boy would also be a blessing. But I’m pretty sure I’m right and that it’s a girl. I’m rarely ever wrong.”
Matching his mischievous grin, she leaned towards him, muttering gravely: “The healer said the results may not be accurate in the end. And remember, the last two times she was unable to tell...“
“She also said that she’s usually right, and that since you are well into the final stages of your pregnancy the potion’s results will be crystal clear.”
Poppy ran a hand down the large expanse of her stomach, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. It was impressive, how much he knew about her pregnancy, how much he remembered and had memorized.
“Alright, just don’t get your hopes up too high for a girl, Casteel.”
“My hopes are at a perfectly reasonable height,” he countered.
“Doubtful…”
It wasn’t necessarily aggravating, his enthusiasm. On the contrary, it was endearing. Far better than the alternative at least.
“How are you feeling?” he said, releasing her hand and running it along the outward curve of her bump.
The amount it had grown in the past three months was extraordinary.
“I’m a little nervous honestly,” she grimaced. “I don’t really care about the gender either, but a girl would be nice.”
A soft laugh. “As glad as I am to hear I am not alone in my wishes for a daughter, I meant physically, how do you feel?”
“Oh,” she sighed, leaning back on the cot with her palms. “I feel tired. My feet hurt. Now that I think about it, my back and my hips also hurt. A little nauseous too.”
Casteel chuckled, eyes meeting her’s as his fingers splayed at the apex of her stomach. “Is that all?”
The door to the healer’s office opened and all traces of amusement vanished from Casteel’s face. He stood to his feet.
The healer was making her way down the infirmary towards their cot, a piece of parchment in her hand. Casteel went to take a step, as though to meet the woman halfway, when Poppy cleared her throat. He faced her, a brow arched.
“Either help me up in your race to meet the healer or stay here.”
The edge of his mouth twitched and he took his seat beside her again. His hand found her fingers, squeezing them tenderly.
“I don’t dare leave your side for a moment.”
Poppy snorted, tongue itching for a retort, but her husband had already set his eyes intently on the healer who now stood before the cot. She offered them a humble bow (for the fourth time since they had arrived).
Casteel resumed his nervous foot tapping, though his expression was patient.
“At around seven weeks left, I can confirm that all seems well with you, my Queen. In regards to the gender, I apologize that it has taken longer than anticipated, but the results were very clear this round,” she said, offering an apologetic smile. “You will be having a girl.”
Casteel’s grip on Poppy’s hand tightened again, and when she looked at his face she feared it may split in two from the smile on his lips. She wondered at what point he’d start crying. He was more prone to tears than Poppy was these days.
“I’ll visit you in your chambers for these last appointments. Get plenty of sleep these next few weeks.”
“Not a problem,” Poppy grumbled, stifling a yawn. “Unless it’s at night.”
Naps were frequent, but by the time night came, sleep was nearly impossible. Sleeping on her side, hurt her back. On her back, put pressure on her bladder. On her stomach was out of the question. They’d tried a number of pillows and potions, but if there was an absence of aches and pains, there was an abundance of needing to go to the restroom. Something that, as of recently, required Casteel to wake up and help her out of bed.
The healer went on to recommend frequent walks after her naps, perhaps making it easier to rest. Poppy highly doubted anything would help and while the news of having “Coralena” had sent a thrill through her, she couldn’t help but frown as realized just how long she had left.
Eventually the healer departed and it was time to head to lunch with the town council. Casteel stood and offered both hands to his wife. She gripped them and let him tug her to her feet, unsteadily. He gently balanced her, holding onto her shoulders. When she finally felt stable, Poppy met his eyes, eager to ask if he was as happy as he had anticipated he would be, but Cas beat her to it.
“I told you it was Coralena,” he laughed.
And there it was, the tears shining in his eyes. Casteel’s throat bobbed and Poppy gave him a comforting smile. “Let’s get you out of here before you make a scene.”
He released a choked laugh and they began their trek to their chambers to freshen up.
“We’ll have to inform the entire kingdom,” he grinned. “It’s been a while since they had a princess.”
“I don’t believe anyone will be happier than you.”
Her lower back began its routine aching. She released his fingers, bracing the heels of her hand at the base of her spine. It alleviated some of the pain, but nothing would help more than a warm bath.
She turned to warn Casteel that she would be tempted to skip the lunch and swap it for a steaming tub of lilac scented water, but he was a few paces behind, watching her with an amused grin.
Poppy tilted her head. “Yes?”
“It’s nothing.” He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled quietly. “You’re just… adorable?”
“Was that a question?”
“I’m doing my best to phrase this so that I don’t offend you…”
Poppy turned to meet him where he stood, her arms folded over her bump. He bit his lip.
“Cas. What ?”
He raised two placating hands. “You’ve just started to waddle is all…”
Poppy gawked then looked down to her moving feet. She was… ambling a bit. How long had she been doing? Poppy certainly hadn’t noticed.
“It’s nothing to be offended about. It’s perfectly natural,” Casteel said, closing the distance between them. He placed his hands on the sides of her bump. “Your center of gravity has changed so your body is trying to adjust.”
Poppy balked. “And that’s adorable?”
Laughing, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Very adorable.”
“It’s Cora’s fault…” she grumbled, placing a hand on atop her stomach. “It’s only going to get worse.”
Casteel smiled grimly, though she could see his eyes flicker with delight. “Just means we’re getting closer and closer to meeting them.” His hand moved in a gentle, circular stroke. “And don’t worry, you’ll have one or two more growth spurts and then you won’t get any bigger.”
“Bigg er ?” she said with an arched brow.
His smile was rakish as his lips brushed hers. “Pardon, I meant to say ‘more beautiful.’”
“I’ll be at peak beauty when I’m as big as a house?”
“I can’t win here, can I?” her husband snickered.
“You’ve dug quite the hole. ” Poppy felt his breath tickle her skin. “I don’t think even Hawke Flynn got in this deep of a hole.”
His mouth was by her ear as he inclined his head, “Allow me to make it up to you before lunch then.”