Page 177 of Nine-Tenths

"At this stage of development, yes. And hear us, too." Dav turns his face to his sister. "Can't you,wy bach."

"Wy bach?" I repeat, deciding I better start on that Welsh language tutoring sooner rather than later. Dav winces a little, but clearly decides that now is not the time for a pronunciation lesson.

"Little egg."

Dav takes my hand and, gently, presses my fingers over the dome.

"It's… leathery." I pet down the side of the shell, and under the faintly pebbled texture, make out the subtle bumps of Dav's sister, curled up against the casing. "And damp."

"Yes," Dav says. "We're not birds. Our shells aren't brittle. She'll rip her way through when she's ready. There's water in the stand down there, do you see? Oh, hold on." From a small gilthook on the side of the hearth, he fetches an ornate porcelain pitcher that looks like a watering can with a long, thin spout. It's painted to match the little cup that the egg is sitting in, and now that Dav's brushed aside some of the nesting, I can see that there's a trough in the side of the cup. Dav tips the spout against the trough, and the alcove fills with lavender-and-milk scented steam. "The bath was getting low."

"Do you have to do this for the whole time? Keep up the fire, fill the cup with water?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Oh, just a few decades," Dav says offhandedly, refilling the pitcher with fresh water from a huge metal cauldron on the hearth. He sprinkles more dried lavender into the pitcher from another matching porcelain bowl on the mantle—clearly it's an all-together baby-baking set—and sets the pitcher back on the hook. "She's had a trio of minders all this time, from Mother's hoard. They have apartments through there."

He points at a cleverly disguised door in the middle of the mural.

"Have we kicked them out?"

Dav sits beside me again and pats my knee. "They'll have heard us coming up the stairs and made a discreet exit. Probably taking a moment to catch up—they sleep in shifts."

"Intense."

Dav shrugs. "It's not the same people for three decades. Mother employs nursing students from Cardiff University."

I scoot back to let Dav have his turn with the egg, petting the shell and murmuring in Welsh. I don't mind waiting. It's nice to see him so content, so relaxed. We've spent way too much time stressed out and snapping at each other lately, and it's good to be reminded that we do actually like each other's company.

That what we have is worth everything we're going through to keep it.

When Dav's done, he leans back, and I shamelessly crowd onto his pouf, half in his lap. This will likely be the last time we'll get so much alone time for a while, and I want to make the most of it.

"Oh, hello," Dav chuckles, and scoops an arm around my thighs to hold me in place. "No funny stuff in front of the baby."

"No funny stuff," I agree. "Just… I missed you last night."

"I was there."

"Not until after I was asleep."

"I had things I wanted to discuss with Mother, and it was the right opportunity—"

"No, no. I get it. I'm just saying… I missed you."

Dav melts like the big softie he is, and pinches my chin between his fingers to hold me still for a kiss.

"My hopeless romantic," he accuses, as if he isn't the one who picks flowers out of his own garden for the vase on the table by our bedroom fireplace.

"Mm-hmm," I agree. "Still angling for that happily ever after."

"Working on it," Dav says, and kisses me. "Although."

I jam a finger into his chest. "Don't you dare change your mind."

"What? No, of course I’m not. I keep thinking…" Dav trails off, staring at his sister.

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