Page 97 of Crown of Light and Ashes
My hand trembles as I bring it to rest on my still-flat abdomen. There's nothing to feel yet—no movement, no visible sign of the miracle happening within me. And yet, now that I know, I can sense a difference. A fullness. A presence where before there was only emptiness.
"A baby," I breathe, the words strange and wonderful on my tongue. "Kaan's and mine."
The reality of it crashes over me in waves—wonder and fear and joy and terror all mingled together in a storm of emotion so powerful it brings fresh tears to my eyes.
"A child of shadow and light," Banu confirms, her own voice thick with emotion. "Just as the prophecy foretold."
I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the implications. This child—this innocent life that hasn't even drawn its first breath—already carries the weight of centuries of prophecy, of court politics, of world-changing power. What burden to place on someone so small, so vulnerable.
And yet...
"My baby," I whisper, a fierce, protective love surging through me with an intensity that takes my breath away. I've never felt anything like it—this primal, instinctive need to shield, to nurture, to fight for the tiny spark of life I'm harboring.
"I'm going to be a mother." The realization dawns slowly, each word carrying weight and wonder. "I'm going to have a baby."
Joy bubbles up unexpectedly, breaking through the fear and shock. A laugh escapes me, half-sob, half-wonder, as I look up at Banu with shining eyes.
"A baby, Banu! Can you believe it? A tiny person with Kaan's darkness and my light." My mind races ahead, painting pictures of a child with golden eyes and shadow magic, small fingers reaching for the stars, a smile bright enough to illuminate the darkest corners of the Shadow Court.
"Will it have little shadows?" I wonder aloud, imagining miniature darkness swirling around tiny fists. "Or maybe light magic? Or both?" The possibilities seem endless, miraculous.
My hand doesn't leave my abdomen, as if I could somehowcommunicate with the precious life within through touch alone. "You're going to be so loved," I whisper to my unborn child. "So protected. So cherished."
I look up at Banu, suddenly struck by an idea that makes me smile through my tears. "You'll be godmother," I tell her, reaching for her hand. "A real fairy godmother. Can you imagine? You'll teach her—or him—all about magic and mischief and how to drive both courts absolutely mad."
I laugh at the thought, already picturing Banu with a small child—teaching improper spells, smuggling in sweets, creating the kind of chaos only a fairy can manufacture.
"You'll be perfect for it," I continue, squeezing her hand. "And we'll need someone like you—someone who understands both worlds but belongs to neither. Someone who can help this child navigate the prophecy, the politics, the pressure."
Banu's eyes fill with tears, though she tries to mask her emotion with her usual flippant manner. "Well, obviously," she says, her voice betraying more feeling than intended. "Who else would teach your spawn the important things in life? Like how to make properly dramatic entrances and the fine art of insulting dignitaries without them realizing it until three days later?"
I laugh, the sound mingling with tears of joy. "Exactly what every royal child needs to know."
But then reality intrudes, sobering me. "Kaan," I whisper, my hand instinctively moving to protect my abdomen. "What will he say? What will he do when he finds out?"
Banu's expression grows serious. "That's the big question, isn't it?" She sits beside me, her wings folding against her back. "The blood bond, Nesi. He'll sense the changes in you eventually."
Fear replaces joy, cold and paralyzing. What if he reacts badly?What if he doesn't want this child? What if the prophecy frightens him, or worse, angers him?
"I can't tell him yet," I decide, my voice steadying with resolve. "Not until I'm certain he'll accept it. This child is too precious to risk."
Banu nods, understanding in her eyes. "Then we'll need to shield the pregnancy from the bond. Hide it until you're ready to tell him."
"Can you do that?" I ask, hope flickering like a candle in the darkness.
"Of course," she replies with a hint of her usual bravado. "Who do you think you're talking to? Some amateur garden-variety pixie? I've been concealing things from powerful beings since before your great-grandparents were born."
She rises, her hands already beginning to glow with silver light. "This I know how to do safely. It's a simple enchantment—targeted, focused. It will shield only the pregnancy, leaving the rest of your connection intact. He won't sense anything unusual, just the emotions you choose to share."
Relief washes over me. "Thank you, Banu. For everything."
She waves away my gratitude with characteristic dismissiveness, though her eyes remain suspiciously bright. "Just don't name the baby after me without permission. 'Banu' is trademarked in seven magical realms, and the paperwork for usage rights is a nightmare."
I laugh again, the sound lighter than it's been in weeks. Despite the uncertainty ahead, despite the danger and complications, a fierce joy burns within me. A child. My child. Our child.
I close my eyes as Banu's magic washes over me, cool and gentle like spring rain. The enchantment settles around my abdomen, a protective cocoon of fairy magic that will shield my precious secret until I'm ready to share it.
"I'm going to be a mother," I whisper again, the words still strange and wonderful on my tongue.
