Nicholas
Why would she need to talk to her? This question had been running through my head since Lucy's announcement earlier. Normally we wouldn't have bothered mum at the courts but Lucy had never asked to see her, or cried in front of us. The only time I'd seen her like that was when we were locked in the palace dungeons under the reign of Lady Natasha and she'd thought Solange was dead, which didn't exactly help me calm down about this. Quinn had been on the phone to the palace straight away and our parents had arrived an hour later. Dad had herded us all outside, away from the house, leaving mum and Lucy alone in an empty home, to talk.
"Chill out Nick, you're digging a hole in the ground." Logan joked, trying to cheer me up. I'd been pacing back and forth for about 40 minutes now and the mood had somewhat dampened.
Marcus looked up from his mobile, "Seriously Nick, she'll be fine. Look at everything we've been through. We're all alive and faced much worse than whatever this is," his attention switched to the forest, "and it looks like we've got company." A rustling came from the woods around the house. We tensed and went into defence mode. Suddenly, a huge ball of fur jumped from the trees and jumped on top of Logan, flattening him in the process. He went down with an 'oof' as the air was knocked from him. The ball of fur transformed into a wolf hound.
"Urgh, Charlemagne, get off!" the hound started licking Logan's face, leaving a trail of slobber each time, and refusing to budge. A sharp whistle came from the thicket and the dog retreated from Logan, instead going over to Solange and asking for a scratch. "Thanks, babe." Logan called in the whistler's direction. A second later, Isabeau walked from the shadows towards our group. Solange and Connor, who had grabbed a tennis ball from the shed and were now playing catch with Charlemagne, nodded towards our unexpected guest and went back to entertaining the beast. Isabeau walked forward, her scars showing proudly under her tunic, and practically yanked Logan off the ground. He kissed her quickly, still embarrassed around us. "When did you get back?" he asked, taking her hand. Isabeau had been searching for a Hound left by Montmartre to rot in England.
She leaned against him and replied, "Just yesterday, petit ami. I left Magda to finish up because I wanted to see you," they kissed again. I was still watching the house when I heard Isabeau sniffing. "Where's Lucy? She smells like she's right next to me." Everyone looked at her oddly. We could all smell Lucy but we'd just assumed it was the lingering scent left in our nostrils. Isabeau, however, shouldn't be able to smell her from here.
Marcus stopped texting immediately and went to our father, "Dad, that can't be right, can it? She shouldn't be able to smell her from here, should she?" Dad didn't answer. Instead he went pale and looked at me.
Logan looked from Isabeau to dad to me and it was like a light switched on in his brain, "Oh God. Dad, the last time this happened, mum was..." he cut off, not able to say the next word. Dad shook out of his mental freeze and walked over to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and looked down gravely at me before saying the last word in Logan's unfinished sentence.
"Pregnant."