The war keeps him away. Away from love, from his life, from a family, one he knows nothing of. Living in Bulgaria seems vast plain of loneliness and frigid despair. I feel trapped, as though it's a hazy dream I cannot awake from. I can't even venture out as furiously like in France, since everyone now a days is a target.

I stare out at the frozen landscape, hoping to see a flicker of hope in the white tundra. It felt romantic when we moved here, together we would look across the fields together, planning to melt all of the snow with our passion. But when he left, the sparkling white backdrop became a constant reminder of his absence.

"Mother was right" I say sighing, slowing turning back to gaze into the fire

"Fleur, you marry this…Bulgarian and you will be nothing but miserable. Have you ever been there? It's horrid! Cold all year long and before you know it, he'll leave you for the war."

"It is horrid"

"What is?"

I turn sharply, immediately regretting my action.

"Nothing Katrina" I say harshly, holding my aching back.

"You don't have to be that way" she says softly, ignoring my rage. "You are my sister after all."
"Don't sisters fight occasionally?" I say, slowing standing, to waddle over to the warm, comfortable bed.

"We don't need to" she says helping me sit. "besides who will help you sit and stand?"

I smile softly.

"You're right."

She reaches out gently placing her hands on my swollen stomach.

"Hello Jean" she whispers, losing her Bulgarian accent for a split second.

"Gregorvic" I say

"what?"

"That's his middle name" I say "Gregorvic, he can't be all French, right?"

"I guess, though I liked Jean Lucas better."

"Jean Gregorvic Krum" I say assured "It fits perfectly."

"Viktor will be home soon" she says nonchalantly picking at the fire.

I stop fixing my pillow, my heart beating faster.

"You've heard news?"

"No"

I sink back, tears stinging at my eyes.
"You mustn't tease me like that. How do you figure that statement anyway?"

"You've only got 3 more months." She says brightly, sitting cross-legged in front of me.

My heart sinks for her and a little for myself.

"Katrina…" I hesitate, trying to find the words "You know….Viktor doesn't know about Jean."

She puts her head to my stomach.

"Of course he does, it's his after all."

I smile at her, she lifts my spirits with her philosophy. Such maturity in this 17-year-old girl really made living here a little less traumatic. Her curiosity about my pregnancy though helps her still retain her youthfulness.

"I want to be your age when I have children." She says raising her head.

"Why is that?"

"it seems perfect, marry young, start a family, have your life to enjoy all of it."

"I'm 24, not exactly some young girl." I say laughing "besides, you'll start your family when the time right."

"Was it for you?"

I pause. It was true, I didn't feel ready for a baby, but with the war and Viktor leaving within months, I felt the pressure.

I place a hand on my stomach

"Yes, absolutely."

"only 3 more months to decide on that name."

I roll my eyes.

"I've already decided."

"you sure?" she says, her eyes narrowing

"of course."

"You know it's a boy right? Because if I find out you've tricked me, I'll be really angry."

I laugh, turning towards the window again, my hopelessness fading. Perhaps she was right, only 3 more months. I pray they travel quickly.