Page 126 of Crown of Darkness
I warm my hands on my cup. “Yes?”
“Later,” he mouths, and then he winks.
Fine. Grumbling under my breath, I reach for the second teapot on the tray. Peppermint to start the day, and then bitter nettle to prevent any unwanted side effects from last night.
But my fingers freeze on the teapot lid.
I didn’t drink any tea yesterday. Or the day before.
There’s a hollow ringing in my ears. It should be fine. Thiago withdrew last night. And I’m almost due for my monthly bleeding, in fact….
When am I due?
I’d jokingly said to Thalia that maybe it was best if I didn’t wear white the other night—just in case. But I haven’t thought about it since. Everything’s been so hectic.
But the thought ringing through my head is:I should be bleeding by now.
I can’t stop myself from counting, but there’s a breathless feeling in my chest that sends my thoughts scattering the second I get to five weeks.
Nearly five weeks since I had my last monthly.
Five. Weeks.
“Vi?” Thiago’s voice roughens. “What’s wrong? You’ve gone pale.”
“I’m late,” I whisper, my hands starting to shake.
“We’ve got time—”
“Late.”
This time Thiago looks at me, and I see a myriad of expressions in his eyes. Confusion. Understanding. Then horror. “No.”
Pressing my hands to my midriff, I can’t stop my nails from digging in. We were so careful. He always withdrew or used a sheathe, and I’ve been drinking bitter nettle tea every cursed morning.
“How late?”
“I don’t know! Three, maybe four days.” It’s enough to make worry worm like a hole in my gut. My bleedings have always been regular.
This should be a moment of joy, but all I can taste is a mouthful of ash.
I want this child so badly, but I cannot risk it. Not now.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“No, I’m not sure!” I shove to my feet, my nightgown swishing around my legs. “I don’t feel any different.” Should I not be feeling queasy by now? I don’tknow. This is not an area I’ve ever given much thought to before. “Just tired.”
But that can be explained.
Lack of sleep.
Attacks every time I turn around.
Endless nightmares.
I squeeze my eyes shut and Iseeher, running through a field of wild poppies, tracing her fingers over their petals as she laughs and looks back at me—
Right before the shadows swallow her whole.
