Crystal Storm (Falling Kingdoms #5)(93)

“I swear to the goddess,” Lucia said, clutching her belly, “this child wishes to be the death of me.”

She’d never assumed that carrying a child would be simple. In the past, she’d seen pregnant women who’d complained about their backs hurting, their ankles swelling, and constant nausea. But she knew this was different.

The road Jonas promised would lead to her family was winding and rocky. Every time the horse-drawn cart took a turn too fast or hit a boulder, she wanted to cry out from the pain.

“Do you want me to have the driver stop again?” asked Jonas.

“No. We’ve wasted too much time already.”

The rebel had been very quiet during the journey, which, due to multiple stops, had taken them nearly an entire day since leaving his sister’s cottage.

She had to ask.

“Does your sister hate you because of who I am? That you brought me to her home?”

“That would be more than enough, I think. I was wrong to bring you there thinking she’d be willing to help you. But my sister hates me for other reasons. Valid reasons. I can’t argue that I didn’t abandon my family. Even though I thought I was keeping them safe by staying away, I see now that it was the wrong decision. I should have been there when my father died.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He eyed her. “You are?”

“Despite what you believe of me, I’m not utterly heartless.”

“If you say so.”

She groaned. “Please keep talking, even if it’s only to insult me. When you’re talking, the pain seems to lessen a little.” She scanned what she could see of the landscape, which had turned from rural to much more populated, with buildings closer together and roads that seemed smoother and well traveled. “Is it much farther?”

“Not much. I’ll talk to ease your pain the rest of the way. The last time I saw my father I decided that I never wanted to be like him. But I still should have been there when he died. Like so many Paelsians, he accepted life as it unfolded before him, never working to change it. He believed blindly in Chief Basilius. I suppose I did too, for a while. At least, until I saw for myself that the chief had none of the magic he claimed and that he allowed Paelsians to starve while he lived like a true king in his compound, thanks to his high tax on Paelsian wine. He made me so many promises of a brighter future—he even wanted me to marry his daughter.”

It was odd—the sound of the rebel’s voice did seem to soothe her. At least until he mentioned that particular name. “Chief Basilius wanted you to marry his daughter? Which one?”

“Laelia.” He studied her. “Why do you look so surprised by this? Because the daughter of someone like Basilius would have nothing to do with a wine seller’s son?”

“That’s not why.”

“Trust me, she wasn’t complaining.”

“My goodness, rebel, is your previous betrothal a touchy subject for you?”

“No. I barely think about it—or her—anymore. I have no interest in marriage.” His jaw set, and he continued to mutter, as if to himself. “That leads to children, and children . . . I just don’t see myself raising one, no matter how important it might be.”

She frowned at him. “Of course not. You’re still young.”

“So are you.”

“I didn’t choose this.”

His expression remained grim. “I keep wondering just how many of us actually get a choice in our futures, or whether they’re already set and we’re doomed to simply think we have control over our lives.”

“So philosophical. For your information, I looked surprised about your betrothal to Laelia only because I recently discovered that Gaius Damora isn’t my father by blood. He had me kidnapped because of my prophecy. My real father was Chief Basilius. Laelia is my sister.”

Jonas blinked. “I’m surprised you’d share this with me.”

“Why? We’re making conversation, and such a secret doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

His brows drew together. “So you’re Paelsian.”

She laughed weakly. “That is all you take from that revelation?”

Jonas swore under his breath as he studied her face. “You actually look like her, now that I’m paying attention. Like Laelia. Same blue eyes, same hair color. Fewer snakes, though. And you’re so pale right now. You really aren’t feeling well, are you?”

“Not at all.”

“So is it a sorceress thing, this quick pregnancy? All that elementia inside you?”

“I think it has more to do with my visit to the Sanctuary. The quickness happened only after I returned to Paelsia.”

He regarded her with shock. “You’ve been to the Sanctuary? The actual Sanctuary where the immortals live?”

She nodded. “Briefly. A Watcher named Timotheus has been tolerating my existence because of my prophecy. Sometimes he visits my dreams. I knew I needed to see him, to ask for his help. To be honest, he wasn’t all that helpful.” Jonas’s shoulders had stiffened at the name. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Timotheus, you said?”

“He has visions . . . about me, about this world, and about his world. But he’s secretive about the visions that have to do with me.”