Page 18 of The Artist and the Dragon

“Sell a wedding gift?” Whether her look of horror was genuine or not, Bronwyn couldn’t say.

“Not immediately, of course. But it would be more useful going toward one of your projects than sitting on a shelf.”

Ceridwen blew out a breath. “So true. Though right now I worry about anything we put attention to becoming a target.”

So delicate, the line they walked between joy and sorrow. Bronwyn sought to tip the scales in a happier direction. “Have you given any more thought to taking a wedding moon trip? It might do you all well get out of the capital for a bit.”

Her sister shook her head. “Drystan is too busy. Besides, it gives me time to focus on some things here, like the orphanage and other projects.”

Bronwyn’s gaze dropped to her sister’s lap, where one hand rested against her belly. All thoughts in her head vanished. Suddenly, it felt like a deep pit opened in her center. “Ceridwen … are you pregnant?”

“What!” her sister squeaked, hand flying from her stomach. “No! I mean, I don’t think so. We’ve taken some precautions.”

A small sigh of relief slipped from Bronwyn’s lips. She wanted that for her sister, someday, but with everything else going on, now hardly seemed the time for it.

“Can you imagine the scandal if the queen gave birth only a few months into her marriage?” Ceridwen laughed.

Bronwyn rolled her eyes before giving her sister a pointed look. “Because all the nobles whose children after born seven or eight months after the wedding came early…”

“Well, I’m not one of them.” Ceridwen smoothed her hands across her lap. “I would like to have children one day. I hope to. Though, with what happened to Mother, Drystan worries that I might have similar … complications. He’d be such a mess if I were pregnant, and he has enough to think about.”

True enough. She couldn’t imagine what Drystan would be like if anything happened to Ceridwen, and given their mother’s difficult pregnancies, there was cause to be concerned. Birth had contributed to her untimely death, an event that had destroyed their family in so many ways—though, with all Bronwyn had learned, she blamed the dragons more than an ill touch of fate. If Mother hadn’t been attacked, she might not have been weakened or gone into early labor. She might have lived…

But all themightsin the world couldn’t change the past. Bronwyn shook her head, vanishing the thoughts. “Well, with his magic, I am sure he’d be able to help you if anything were to go wrong one day. But it won’t.” Bronwyn set her hand atop her sister’s. “You’ll be fine. And you’ll be a great mother one day, too.”

If only their mother had had someone with magic to help her…

Bronwyn slammed that box shut and sat on it.

“Thank you, Bronwyn.” Ceridwen gave her fingers a squeeze. “You will be, too.”

Bronwyn blinked. The beginning of a laugh crawled up her throat, but she swallowed it and slid her hand away. “Anyhow, which one is next?” She gestured to the presents.

“Perhaps that blue one?” Ceridwen pointed at one of the boxes closest to Bronwyn. “I’m going to finish opening this one.” She’d already unwrapped the little present in front to reveal a nondescript wooden box.

Bronwyn began carefully unwrapping her present while watching her sister investigate the wooden box. However ridiculous some of the gifts, it was a lot of fun getting to open them and see what each contained.

Inside the wooden box Ceridwen held was a finely wrought, delicate object that glimmered in the light. She lifted it. “Oh, look, a little spinning wheel.” She tilted it this way and that, letting the lamplight glimmer off the metal. It was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, almost like it had been crafted as fancy toy for children. “How strange,” she mused as she examined it closer.

So many of the gifts were. Perhaps the nobility needed a lesson in gift-giving.

“Ouch!” Ceridwen yelped, dropping the spinning wheel. “And sharp.”

“Are you okay?” Bronwyn leaned closer.

Ceridwen frowned at her finger, watching as blood welled from the tip and started to run. “It’s just a scratch.”

Bronwyn gave a light-hearted huff. “Don’t let Drystan see that. He might panic.”

Ceridwen grinned but gave her a sideways look. “He’s notthatoverprotective.” She stood from the table. “Let me get a cloth for this.”

Sure, not overprotective at all.Bronwyn shook her head with a smile. He did love her, though, so much it was almost worrisome.

A thunk from nearby made her head snap up.

Her heart nearly stopped. Her blood turned cold. Ceridwen had fallen to her knees, a hand on her forehead.

“Ceridwen!” Bronwyn leapt from her chair, knocking it over in the process. She was at her side in a heartbeat, dropping down and grabbing her sister’s shoulders. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

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