Thank you Fyrebyrd, 2brown-eyes, Gabby1017, and Ceceprincess1217 for prereading, and to jayhawkbb for editing. I'm a chronic fiddler, so all mistakes are mine.

Chapter 16

I look to each of them, my eyes wide and a smile upon my lips. "You think I could be with child?"

"It is possible, My Lady," Angela says softly. "I see to the washing of your clothes and to your linens being changed, and you've not bled since we arrived. It seems quite possible."

I turn to Rosalie. "How will I know for certain?"

"There really is no way to know with absolute certainty until you feel the quickening. But if you've not bled since you arrived at Masenthorne, and now you're sick each morning, there is a very good chance you are carrying."

If it is true, I am carrying a piece of my husband within me, a reminder of the care he showed me. "Edward's child." My smile grows wider as I think of what this means. A child would grant me the king's approval and assure me a place here in Galon. "I will not have to leave."

The confusion on Rosalie's face reminds me I should not have shared my thoughts aloud. "What do you mean you will not have to leave?"

I shake my head. "Please forget I said that."

"You are not planning another escape, are you? Isabella, not only was that a horrible idea the first time, now you likely have a child to think of. It is not safe to be out in the elements for that long in winter, not to mention riding horseback. You cannot—"

"No," I interrupt. "I am not speaking of leaving on horseback, Rosalie." I quietly consider if I should share the conversation I had with Carlisle.

I turn back to Rosalie. Seeing her concern and determination to find out the truth, I know I need to tell her. "It is just something the king mentioned the night I left the castle."

Her eyes narrow. "What did he say to you?"

"That it might be time to consider sending me back to Adwen," I say, my voice not much louder than a whisper.

Judging from her shocked expression, I know my words are not what she expected. "Send you back? But ... why?"

I shake my head. "With Edward missing and no heir to speak of, I serve him no purpose. He also thinks I might be a bad omen."

Rosalie swiftly rises to her feet, the chair she had been seated on scraping against the stone floor. "And why is this the first time I am hearing about this?"

"Because I thought it prudent to keep to myself. Besides, what good would it do to tell anyone?"

"What good? Isabella, my husband did everything in his power to make sure you were safely delivered to Galon. He would want to know if our very own king was planning to have you removed."

"Again, I ask, what good would it do? He cannot go against his king. Emmett serves in the king's army. He—"

"No, you forget. He serves under Edward's command. He—"

"And Edward serves his father. Don't you see, it would have made no difference to tell anyone, and would likely have only caused Emmett trouble. If the king wished to return me to my homeland, I would have had no choice but to go. There would have been nothing anyone could do about it."

Silence settles between us, and I know she is angry. I also know she will not be able to keep this to herself.

"Why did you not tell me, My Lady?" Angela's pained whisper from the periphery of the room gains my attention, and I turn to face her. The look on her face tells me she is hurt; I rarely keep anything from her, especially something so serious.

"I am sorry, Angela. I was hurt and confused, and—"

"All the more reason to tell me." She steps closer but eyes Rosalie cautiously as she nears. Her gaze falls back to me. "Why did you not?"

"I am not completely sure myself, but as I have already said"—I look up into her eyes—"what good would it have done? It would have changed nothing."

She reaches out to take my hand. "Perhaps not, but you would have had a shoulder to cry on, someone to listen. And I would like to think I might have been able to convince you not to run off into the forest." A sad smile graces her lips. "Maybe you would not have had to suffer so many days abed with a fever."

Thoroughly admonished for my impetuousness, I offer the only thing I can. "I know. And I am sorry," I say softly.

"You realize I will need to tell my husband." Rosalie's words snap my attention back to her.

I nod once as I meet her eyes. "I assumed you would, though I hope you will not." I smile. "But it will not matter any longer. If I am carrying Edward's child, the king will have no reason to send me away. I have a place here."

Rosalie steps toward me, opening her arms, and I rise to my feet, walking into them for the embrace I so desperately need. "I only hope that is true," she says softly.

The bleak days of winter grow shorter and colder. Unlike winters in Adwen where we could venture out into the cold for fresh air, Galon's icy landscape keeps everyone indoors, huddled close to the fires and to each other. I continue to wear Edward's cloak like a talisman, guarding me from the cold, even though it is much too long. Angela has only once asked me to exchange it for my own, and my reaction was ... unpleasant. Needless to say, she has not asked again. My nights are especially frigid, and as I burrow under the blankets and furs of what would have been the bed my husband would visit on cold nights, I imagine what this winter could have been like if things were different.

What time I do not spend with Alice, Rosalie, and their children is spent in the chantry, praying for my husband's safety. The sickness begins to subside as the weeks go on, and it is all but gone by the next full moon. Young Jameson and Emily are a new source of joy for me. In their smiles, I can see my own future. My days have more purpose, and I find a new determination to endure the king's continuing scrutiny.

While at court, he watches me. His gaze is penetrating, like he is searching for something. Rosalie says I am glowing, radiating happiness with my secret news, and that Carlisle can see something different about me.

"I do not see why you are insisting on keeping the news to yourself." Rosalie's eyes do not leave the needlepoint she is working on. "It might soften Carlisle's opinion of you." Finally, her eyes raise to mine. "Everyone at court notices his indifference toward you," she says softly.

I look across the room where Emily is playing with a wooden top, and I lower my voice when I turn back to Rosalie. "But what if I am not with child after all? Would it not be better to wait to tell anyone else until I know for certain? It would do me no good to give the king and queen false hope for an heir if my suspicions turn out to be wrong."

She nods. "I suppose you are right." She reaches across the space between us, placing her hand on mine. "But you must realize quite soon your dresses will begin to tighten across your bosom and middle, and you will not be able to hide it. Some at court are much more observant than we give them credit for. I cannot imagine it will take long for some to begin to suspect."

"I still think it best to wait until I feel the quickening," I whisper.

"And you've still not bled?"

I shake my head. "No, but there were times when I lived in Adwen that more than a few moon cycles would pass between my courses. I do not want to give anyone false hope."

"Then you need to do what you think is best."

As Rosalie rests back into her chair, Alice enters the room, tiny Jameson in her arms. "Hello, my friends. I am in need of some adult conversation," she muses, a tired smile upon her face. And with Alice's arrival, so ends any more talk of the child I might be carrying.

"Mama, look!" Emily's excited squeal is loud. Bouncing on the tips of her toes, she points to the red bird perched on a snow-covered tree limb outside Rosalie's sitting room window.

"I see. It is lovely." Rosalie's tone, the one she saves for her daughter, is much softer than the one she uses with everyone else. "The red birds are one of my favorite things about winter. They look so beautiful against the snow. They say the crested red birds never stray far from their mates, so perhaps his mate is nearby." Rosalie's eyes widen in excitement, her daughter returning it just as enthusiastically. "Do you think we might see baby red birds in the spring?"

"Yes, Mama, babies in the spring! And I can pick the pretty flowers," she says with wide-eyed excitement. Alice and I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

"And perhaps you could show Princess Isabella where the best flowers grow."

Emily's bright blue gaze meets mine, and her childish exuberance shines through. "Yes! I can show you!"

"I would like that very much, Emily. What is your favorite flower?"

Nearly an hour passes as the little girl rambles on about her favorite things to do in the spring. From picking flowers to chasing the new puppies of the season, to riding in front of her father in the saddle, Emily is very obviously looking forward to the warmer days in Galon.

Sadly, the time comes for her lessons, and Rosalie does her best to urge her spirited daughter toward the door, but before she can, Emily's eyes widen in excitement as she points. "Look, Mama, another bird!"

We all turn toward the window with smiles on our faces, expecting to see another red bird, but we're met instead with the beady, black eyes of a raven, its call echoing against the windowpane.

Unease overshadows my days, and I am anxious over the raven's appearance. Calling to mind what Edward told me so many weeks ago, the warning from the Gods of coming dangers leaves me worried for what is to come.

The queen often calls for me to visit, and we have grown close over the many weeks I have been at Masenthorne. I enjoy listening to her share stories of her son and the histories of the Cullen family, as well as the McCartys.

"Yes, Emmett was always a lively child, much like his mother—my sister. He and Edward would find the muddiest fields in which to play." She smiles softly at the memory.

On this especially cold day, each of us sit in an armchair before the fire, holding steaming cups of tea in our hands.

"It sounds as if they were quite the pair."

"Oh, yes. Jasper was always at court since his mother was Carlisle's cousin, but their relationship was not quite the same. They would visit each season from their estate in Thornbridge, so the time he had as a boy at Masenthorne was limited. It was not until he was of age to train with Edward that they grew closer." She looks up from the fire, her happy smile wide. "I believe Alice coming of age around that time had much to do with it."

"I can see how that would motivate his decisions."

"I hear from my daughter that you have spent quite a bit of time with her, as well as my nephew's wife. Alice may only be visiting while Jasper is away, but she lived here her entire life before she was wed. Rosalie came to us when she wed Emmett, so she has only been at Masenthorne for a short while, but they both have a wealth of knowledge of both the castle and matters of ... family."

I raise my head with a small smile on my face. "I have. Their friendship has been a saving grace on my darkest days."

"Yes, Alice tells me the three of you have grown rather close." She reaches for my free hand and squeezes it gently. "It is good to see."

"It has been such a joy to get to know them, and their children too." The words I so wish to share with her threaten to roll off my tongue, but I swallow them, fearful my news would be premature. "I spend just as much of my day in prayer as I do in the company of my new sister and cousin, though. Elder Afton has been rather welcoming to me as well."

She releases my hand and reclines back into her chair. "Yes, I have heard how much time you spend in the chantry. I am sure the Gods are listening to such fervent devotion. It is only a matter of time before our prayers are answered, I am sure of it."

"I have faith they will be," I say softly.

She sips from her cup and places it back on the table beside her. "You certainly are looking better, Isabella."

My cheeks warm at the compliment, and I smile, hoping there is more to my new appearance than merely being over the illness I suffered. "Thank you, Mother."

"Truly, you look so much ... healthier than you have in recent weeks." Her head tilts as she studies me. "Your cheeks are a bit full and rosy, and your eyes are brighter. It is almost as if you are glowing."

I duck my head, my eyes falling to the cup of tea in my grasp.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me, Isabella?" she asks softly.

"No, Mother." I raise my head with a small smile on my face. "Not yet," I whisper.

If I thought Esme was beautiful before, nothing compares to her beauty now. With her wide smile and eyes shining with unshed tears, she is a vision, the picture of absolute joy. "That is very good to hear, daughter."

My absolute least favorite activity since coming to Masenthorne Castle has been attending the king's court. With the way I was presented several weeks ago, I am still looked at by some of the courtiers with disdain. I do my best to ignore it and having friends by my side make it easier. The difficulties I had arranging the bodice of my tightening gown just this morning have made me feel as though everyone's attention is focused upon me, though.

While the king may still look upon me with a critical eye, I do my best to appear unaffected. For now, he seems content to wait a while longer to dismiss me, and if he were to try, I can always inform him of the child I believe I am carrying.

Hours are spent listening to the people come before their king to ask for help or to settle one dispute or another. Queen Esme dutifully sits beside her husband while I sit in my new place beside her, representing my husband. The information I truly want to hear—news from Jasper—has yet to come.

The man before us, whose clothes are unsuitable for the winter weather raging outside, is kneeling on the cold, stone floor. "My Lord, our village has lost several heads of cattle and dozens of our sheep have gone missing. We fear it may be interlopers, My Lord."

"Has anyone seen any remains? Could it not have been another animal? I would hate to think you would travel all the way here from Braewood just to inform me a wolf is hunting your herd." King Carlisle's voice is even, unemotional.

The man shakes his head. "No, My Lord, it was no animal. Some of the children stumbled across a carcass and the remains of a burned-out fire. Rumors are spreading, My Lord, about what happened to the prince and what it might mean for Galon."

"Rumors?" he asks forcefully. "Why are the villagers spreading rumors about something they have no knowledge of?"

The man visibly pales but swallows down his fear to speak. "People are fearful that we might be invaded by whomever took him, My Lord. We thought it best to come to Masenthorne and tell you."

King Carlisle pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes deeply to calm himself. "When did the first animal go missing?" he murmurs.

"Near on a fortnite ago, My Lord."

The king looks thoughtful as he ushers forward one of his men. "Please see to it this man is fed and compensated for his losses before he returns home."

"Thank you, My Lord." The man bows before his king, receiving a mere nod in return, and then is led out of the room, likely to one of the taverns just beyond the gates of the keep.

The king turns to his herald to speak, but before he can, a man I instantly recognize as one of Edward's hurries through the doors.

"Your Majesty, I bring news."

I sit straight in my chair, giving a haggard and worn Sir Michael Newton my undivided attention. I take in his appearance. Dirty and disheveled, he has obviously traveled a long way. His face is bright red, undoubtedly chapped by the biting winds raging outside, but his expression is one of relief and earnestness.

Meanwhile, Carlisle ushers him forward with a wave of his hand. "What news do you bring?"

"News of the prince, Your Majesty. He has been found."

Gasps echo throughout the room, and my eyes widen before seeking out Emmett. When I meet his gaze, he nods and swiftly moves into action, walking out through the door in search of answers.

"Well, speak, man! Where is my son?" The king, much like his wife and myself, is perched on the edge of his seat, his hands gripping the arms of the throne.

"He is being held within the walls of Broadcove Castle."

A strangled gasp escapes me at the news of my homeland's involvement.

"I left our men camped just outside the borders of Adwen, My Lord," the soldier continues.

"Is he alive?" I ask, my voice raspy and my heart pounding.

Michael's surprised eyes turn to me, and a small smile graces his lips. "He was alive when I left to travel home, My Lady."

With a trembling hand, I knock on the door. Voices filter through the thick wood, but no one answers my call. Again, I knock, more forcefully this time. When my second attempt is ignored, I raise my hand for a third time, but before my knuckles can make contact, the door swings open, and I am met with the frustrated eyes of Emmett.

"Now may not be the best time, Your Highness," he whispers. His expression is regretful, but I will not yield.

"I realize that, sir, but you must understand my impatience." I stand straight and look him in the eye. "I need to know what news there is of my husband. You have been sequestered in the king's chambers, and no one has come to tell me what is happening." I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. "I need to know if there is a plan to bring him home." My voice lowers to a whisper. "Please."

He stares at me for a moment, but I see the instant he relents; his shoulders slump, and he sighs, standing aside and opening the door wide enough for me to pass.

Before I can thank him, the voices in the room grow louder as I step farther inside. Men are huddled around a table, maps and wooden figures spread out before them. The king stands with his hands behind his back, a fierce look of concentration on his face. As Emmett steps past me, Carlisle looks up and finally notices me.

"Your Majesty," I say softly with a curtsey.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, cold and direct.

"I was hoping I could get some information on the plan to return my husband."

Carlisle's eyes flit to the soldier who delivered the report and then back to me. "You will be informed of the necessary facts once I have spoken further with my men." He turns his attention back to the map, seemingly dismissing me.

I stand, not yet willing to be sent away, and after a moment of silence the king turns back to me. "As I said, Isabella, you will be informed of what you need to know."

Still, I do not move, and he quickly grows impatient with me. "What is it, girl? Do you not see I have more important things to deal with than the needs of a whimpering woman?"

I clear my throat, this time unwilling to back down from the misplaced ire the king has toward me. "I only wish to ask a few questions, then I will be happy to leave you to more urgent matters." I tremble as I speak, knowing challenging the king before his advisors is not wise.

His narrow eyes meet mine but then quickly turn to the returning soldier, nodding his acquiescence. "Very well. Tell her what she wishes to know so we can get back to more important things."

The soldier clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable, and meets my pleading gaze. "What is it you wish to know?"

"You said he is alive, but is he injured? I only wish to know what care he might need when he returns home."

Michael nods his head. "We believe so, which is why it has taken them so long to act. Sir Whitlock does not wish to see any more harm befall our prince, so they were proceeding with caution."

I nod and clear my throat. "And do you know what kind of injuries he has sustained?"

He looks to the king, who nods ever so slightly, before turning back to me. "You need to understand that we were not able to get very close, so as not to give away our position. From our vantage point, the scouts could see him shackled to a post in the center of the castle's courtyard. He—"

"He was shackled?" I whisper.

"Yes, My Lady. He appeared to have an injured leg, and several bloody bandages were wrapped around his head and other parts of his body."

Tears fill my eyes. "Thank you for telling me." I turn and curtsey before the king. "Thank you for the audience, My Lord," I say, my voice giving away my trembling.

I turn on my heel and walk as quickly as my legs can carry me, escaping into the hall before my tears begin to fall in earnest. I make it to the chantry just as it becomes too much, and I collapse onto a bench, wetness streaming down my cheeks as I begin my litany of prayers.

Three full moons have passed since I laid eyes on my husband, nearly four since we wed, and I beg the Gods not too many more will pass before I see him again.

A/N: So, we finally have some news about Edward ... and another raven. I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)

Unfortunately, this is where I leave you until 10/29. I'll be at the Chicago meetup this coming weekend, so there will not be an update next week. But after that—barring any catastrophes—it'll be full steam ahead.

I've been crazy busy with RL lately—trips and my oldest getting ready to move out (Gah!)—I haven't had a ton of time for reading. What are some rec's you'd like to share?

A reminder that the Babies at the Border Fiction Compilation fundraiser is in full swing. Donations are being accepted through November 24th. With your donation, the compilation will be delivered to your inbox on December 1st. I've written an EPOV outtake of his time in captivity, as well as a Duplicity outtake. To read these before March 1, 2020, see the public Facebook group, Babies at the Border Fiction Compilation, or the website, batbcomp dot blogspot dot com for more information about donating.

And remember, for exclusive weekly teasers and pics, be sure to check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics! You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220. 'See' you all soon!

Lots of love

~Sunshine