Neal had established himself at the local clinic. He wasn't the only Gifted healer working there, but he possessed more magic and skill than the others. He frequently worked long hours. Sometimes Kel would go several days without seeing him.
Though that was partly due to the amount she slept.
Kel was slowly going insane from the lack of things to do. Basic stretches appeased her itch to physically do something, but they were also drills she could follow mindlessly, subconsciously keeping count of repetitions while her mind was otherwise occupied. Which wasn't a good thing since her mind had an unfortunate tendency to hyper focus on all the negative aspects of her ruse.
The most recent being, ironically, that her breasts were tender and sensitive to touch. It pained her to keep them wrapped as tightly as she did, but neither could she leave them unbound. Walking made them bounce and sent sharp pains down her back.
Neal was the one bright spot in her life at the moment. Her best friend had offered to massage them, an offer which truly tempted the female knight, but ultimately, she had declined. Partly uncomfortable, not with the idea of him touching her—occupational hazard of being a knight. Neal had often seen her without a shirt or pants- by the intimacy of if, although she knew Neal would be a consummate professional.
Neal complained loudly whenever he used his Gift to heal his fellow pages, but had never hesitated to do so, especially under orders by Lord Wyldon not to. He would leave the surface discoloration or scabbing, but heal everything underneath so that it looked like he had followed orders.
Kel wasn't embarrassed by her body by any means. She knew she would never look like the courtly beauties with their hourglass figures and unblemished skin. Between earning her shield and looking pretty, well, Kel had her priorities. She wasn't concerned with marriage prospects, and being from a newly ennobled family, lacked the pressure to marry well.
For a time, she thought she had gotten lucky. Roald showing an interest in her was like a dream. He knew her and her drive, understood why she fought so hard for her shield where others would have given up. She hadn't needed to feel beautiful with Roald, because he made her feel like physical appearances didn't matter. They were two people cut from the same stone in all the ways that mattered.
Of course, he wound up ripping her heart out. Though truly, she only had herself to blame. Kel should have known better than to presume Tortall's prince could marry a girl whose house wasn't even in the Book of Copper.
But she couldn't help being a little self-conscious about the scars she had accumulated. One in particular.
Scars were another part of the life she had chosen. She tried to wear them proudly, like badges of honor. A sign that she had survived against the odds. That she had fought hard and emerged victorious. Though Neal liked to claim the scars on her right hand from the griffin were of stubbornness and compassion.
The scar under her left breast was another that came from her being exceptionally bull-headed, and it was the one scar that Kel felt actually marred her skin.
The Lady Knight had continued to travel with the King's Own after the war with Scanra had ended. Raoul's company had been called to aid a village besieged by a Tauros, one of the more unpleasant immortals. The beast possessed limited intelligence and a single purpose: raping and killing women. Her former knight-master had wanted to keep her out of the fight entirely, an opinion shared by many of his men. Kel had understood it was because no one wanted to risk the immortal catching her, but she had pushed, arguing that her presence would distract the Tauros and make it easier for them to kill it.
The plan had worked. As soon as the beast realized there was a female amongst them, he had disregarded the warriors in favor reaching Kel. Only, they had underestimated how fast the bull-like creature could move. Under the curve of her left breast was a raised circular scar from where his horn had gored her. It was roughly the size of a silver noble, white and puffy still after several years. Perhaps, if the King's Own had had someone with the Gift, it wouldn't look so horrible, but nothing could be done for it now.
Kel was only grateful that the ugly scar would never be seen. Unless she removed her breastband. If she allowed Neal to work his magic and ease the tenderness she was currently experiencing, she would have to reveal that scar to him.
Neal wasn't aware of that particular scar, and she had no plans clue him in to its existence. She didn't want him to worry about her, for it no longer hurt, nor feel guilty that he hadn't been there to prevent the scarring in the first place.
Neal thought she was bad about taking blame that didn't belong to her, but he did the exact same thing when it came to his friend getting injured.
Besides, she didn't need a magical cure every time a new pregnancy symptom hit her. Her sisters had managed several times over without a Healer on hand. Kel was the warrior. It would be shameful if she could not do the same.
The brunette turned her thoughts to the kitchen. What she needed was a distraction. The pantry needed restocking. She could check the budget and do a supply run. There were plenty of fish in their icebox still, and while she couldn't prepare food without needing her chuck bucket, directing Neal to make some Yamani inspired meals should be easy enough.
It had been awhile since she had tasted true Yamani dishes. With Blue Harbor being a port town, finding the necessary seasonings and ingredients would be an easy task.
Excited by the prospect of eating something different, Kel made her shopping list first, prioritizing standard food staples over her desired Yamani cuisine, and added the exotic fares once she was certain she had enough coin for them.
Last thing she did before leaving the house was empty her chuck bucket. They had forgotten once, and there was no worse smell than returning home to a bucket of vomit that was fermenting in its own heat.
Neal thought he had ben wonderfully clever naming it so.
"It's a bucket full of upchuck that gets chucked out the window," as he so crudely put it. And thus, the unfortunate name stuck.
Kel truly couldn't wait until she was past the first trimester. She'd be more limited physically as her belly grew rounder and parts of her body began to swell, but she was done with constantly being sick and tired.
A little bit of mental math, the exact date of conception was unknown, but it had been six weeks since Duke Baird confirmed her pregnancy. Accounting for the two weeks of sneaking into Roald's chambers, Kel was anywhere from six to eight weeks along, meaning she had another six to eight before she moved into the second trimester.
The emptied bucket slipped from her fingers.
Kel sat upon the bed, suddenly despondent. She had another seven or eight weeks more likely, for she highly doubted she and Roald conceived on their very first night, of unending nausea to look forward to for a baby that she wasn't going to keep. Her suffering, her pain, her hardship.
And her reward would be to watch from afar as the man she loved and the woman she considered her best female friend raised her child, all the while keeping her mouth shut.
She was vividly reminded of jousting practices with Raoul where she experienced a brief moment of weightlessness as she was sent flying, and the jarring, all-encompassing pain of crashing back to the ground hard enough to turn her backside into a patchwork of blue, black, and purple bruises.
She was overcome by that feeling. It pressed down upon her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
It wasn't that she hadn't wanted a family. Kel planned for it at some point. It was always later, though. First it was her shield. Then the Scanran war and that task the Chamber had set for her. Then she had needed time to put the pieces of her heart back together when the King and Queen were wed.
Kel cursed her weak heart. She thought she knew what she was getting into. And she was wrong. So, so wrong. All that time she had spent considering when their majesties had presented this scheme, she hadn't given any thought to what came after.
She wasn't ready for children, so it would be easy to place the babe in Shinkokami's arms and move on, denying any connection or involvement with the child that was half hers. Kel would eventually find herself a husband and have children with him and forget the one that came before them.
But now her emotions were drowning out her sense of logic, and all she could think about was how unfair the whole situation was to her.
Her reputation would be ruined. Already all of Crocus believed she had laid with a random common man. Being unmarried, her child would be a bastard. Never mind that he would be the king's bastard. And she was supposed to pretend at the end that her child had been stillborn, so the King and Queen could proudly present the fruit of her womb as theirs.
Who would want her after all that?
Lost in her newfound realizations and accompanying misery, Kel lost track of time. Naturally, today was the day Neal returned home at a decent hour, and found her weeping into the bed linens.
Rapid fire questions fell from his mouth as he tried to determine what was wrong, what was causing her pain, and how he could fix it.
"You must think me stupid."
Neal blinked at the unexpected answer. "I would never think you stupid for crying, and you don't have to hide your tears from me. They don't make you weak." He held of on adding, especially in your condition, as the clarifier was more likely to upset her further.
"No, not for crying," Kel corrected. "For going along with Roald and Shinkokami's plans." A shadow crossed his eyes, which she wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't already watching his face. Where she hid her true emotions under a veneer of neutrality and polished stone, Neal covered his with over the top happiness or sarcasm.
Neal curled his fingers into hers. "Never," he said firmly. "I know you didn't jump into the king's bed as soon as the opportunity presented itself."
Kel scoffed, because it was truer than he believed. Their majesties had offered her the chance to feed her heart's most selfish desire, and Kel took several days to convince herself that she was doing it for king and country and not herself.
"I told you once before that they were cruel and wrong to ask this of you, and I stand by that."
She smiled weakly. "Thank you. I think I needed to hear that again."
"What are friends for? Now, go wash those tears off and I'll scrape us up some food."
Indeed, Kel thought. She had never imagined the boy forced to be her mentor because no one else wanted to take on the Girl would turn out to be her truest friend. She was so very grateful that Neal had stepped up and offered to take her under his wing, both then and now. Kel imagined her years at the palace would have been rather lonely without him. No doubt the other pages wouldn't have approached her willingly. Despite being several years older, Neal was the bridge between her and the rest of the pages. It was his popularity that brought the others around to the idea of being friends with the Girl.
Neal was charming and witty and handsome. Steadfast when she needed his support, even when he didn't agree. Mithros, he had nearly made himself the oldest to try for page when Joren and his cronies had arranged Lalasa's kidnapping. She was the one to remind him that Wyldon may not let him repeat his page years. She refused to let him suffer the consequences alongside her. They both knew Lord Wyldon would be justified in making her retake those four years, if not remove her from the program entirely. She didn't want to be the reason he failed to achieve his shield.
Why couldn't she have fallen for him instead? Her heart would have thanked her for sparing it the heartache.
Kel dried her face, avoiding looking in the mounted mirror. Neal would never like her in that way. He had shown interest in plenty of ladies, all of whom looked nothing like her. More than likely, she was another sister to him.
And she was fine with that, she reminded herself, burying the nugget of momentary attraction. She wasn't going to ruin her friendship with Neal because she was pitying herself. She had chosen to lay in this bed, quite literally, and wasn't going to drag him down with her because she was starting to feel things she shouldn't.
Just because he offered to claim the baby didn't mean he harbored amorous feelings toward her.
Kel had to be content that he was willing to help her at all and be careful to not tarnish his reputation. After all, he was the eldest son, and would inherit Queenscove from his father. He would need to marry a noble girl who would give him sons.
He's beyond you, she told her heart. You can't have him.