The wind blew through the open windows of Adalia's bedchamber, carrying with it the sickeningly sweet scent of lavenders, and stirring up her silk gown so that far too much of her ankles was revealed. Adie couldn't bring herself to care about that. Only Oranie, sprawled on the bed beside her, was in the room with her, and modesty between sisters who had shared quarters until Adie's wedding day was a wasted effort.
On a day when the sun was blazing down, soaking the ridges of Adie's back with sweat, she figured that all wasted efforts should be avoided. Adie wouldn't even be dressed in anything except her nightgown if Orie hadn't selected the periwinkle gown from the wardrobe and pulled all the sleeves on and tightened the corset.
"I guess that I should be grateful that I don't have to lug around an extra body in this terrible heat." Adie threw her head back against the pillows in the brittle laugh she had perfected at the convent while learning how to be a lady. "And I suppose I should be happy that I can wear fancy dresses again without having to worry about a tight corset hurting the baby."
But Adie hadn't minded carrying the baby, which she had secretly named Ilane after her mother if it was a girl, or Merovec after her husband if it was a boy. And she had taken a weird pleasure in worrying about how the food she ate and the clothes she wore might hurt her unborn child. She had loved stroking the tender skin over her womb, getting confused about whether the beats she felt were kicking feet or her own pounding heart. She had delighted in crooning to her own belly, which had not even begun to widen before she had miscarried, imagining that the child would somehow be smart enough to understand the words she sang.
"Nobody could be happy after losing the child they spent the last three years trying to conceive," Orie murmured, and, even though it was too hot for any sort of physical contact, she squeezed Adie's fingers.
"I certainly wasn't," muttered Adie, remembering how her hand had been shaking too much for her to pen the letter to her husband, on border patrol near Galla, explaining that she had lost the baby. Orie, who had ridden to Nond castle to support Adie through the months of her pregnancy, had needed to write that note in her handwriting that looked almost identical to Adie's. Orie had been the one who could stop crying long enough to ensure that teardrop-shaped splotches didn't cover the parchment until it was utterly illegible. Adie hadn't even been able to dictate the words Orie should write through her sobs. Her lip trembling, she added, "I'm a failure at womanhood. It took me so long to get pregnant, and when I finally get with child, I push it from my womb too soon."
"Womanhood isn't something you can fail at," Orie observed dryly, rolling her eyes. "If it were, Kel would have failed at it long ago."
"Merovec wants a son he can teach to ride, and a daughter he can bounce on his knee." Adie could feel the powder around her eyes streaking as the tears filling her eyes began to trickle out of them again. "What will he say when he reads your letter?"
"He will comfort you in his grief, and if he doesn't, then he isn't worth crying over, so you should take up your glaive again and give him something else to cry about." Briskly, Orie took out her handkerchief, which she used to wipe the tears and smeared powder off Adie's pale cheeks. Then, reaching out to grab a crumpet heavy with raspberry jam from the silver tray balanced precariously on the nightstand, she thrust it into her sister's hands, ordering, "Eat up. I know raspberry jam is your favorite and that you haven't eaten breakfast today, so I will hear no excuses."
"You're an absolute annoyance." Adie stared at the crumpet, wishing it could fill her hollow womb instead of her empty stomach. "No wonder Ortien hasn't proposed to you. He probably is reluctant to commit to spending the rest of his life being bossed around by you."
"Eat the crumpet, Adie." Orie nudged her older sister's shoulder. "Then you won't be able to say such silly things."
"If I eat the crumpet, I'll become fat and ugly and even more of a failure at womanhood." Miserably, Adie shook her head. "Anyway, I'm not hungry."
"Your stomach will rumble any second now if you don't put something in it." Orie snorted, as she had always done at the convent when some lady in training had fretted about appearances too much. "Besides, we're talking about one crumpet. Also, as I said before, womanhood isn't something you fail at, and you're beautiful the way you are. Starving yourself until your husband can see every one of your ribs through your dress is only going to make you uglier, and if you make your hips any thinner, you won't be able to drop a baby through them over. Now eat the crumpet."
"I do so only under extreme duress." Not exactly reluctantly, Adie brought the crumpet to her lips and bit into it. Thick bread moistened by fresh jam mixed in her mouth for a blissful moment until she swallowed and admitted, "That was quite good. I suppose, if you weren't my sister, I'd have to say thank you for putting up with my moping."
"Yes, but since I am your sister, I didn't put up with your moping, and that's what you really should thank me for." Smirking, Orie took a crumpet from the tray and bit into it. "Any old friend can console you, but it takes a sister to bully you into behaving again."