“What have I done?” I murmured, staring up at the pine slats. One day I was the queen of a fairy kingdom, commanding armies and wielding powerful magic. The next, I was out in the country, the darling of a good-hearted family whose only motivations were kindness and affection to others. It left me confused and unsure of what exactly I wanted in the world. And weirdly, for the first time since I’d left the Otherworld and begun my manic journey, I truly felt alone. I’d abandoned a lifestyle that—while dangerous—was familiar and beloved. Now, I was in a much simpler, easier world ... but I questioned if I’d ever truly feel like I belonged in it.

Dorian’s face played through my mind again, and I forcibly pushed him away.

A small fluttering in my stomach made me jerk upright. I sat there in disbelief, staring around foolishly. What was that? Had that been ... ? Tentatively, I rested a hand on my abdomen, waiting for a repeat. There was none. I tried to remember what the doctor had said about the babies moving. I remembered the fish analogy and—most importantly—her comment that it wouldn’t feel like something trying to kick its way out of me.

When nothing else happened, I lay back on the bed. That could have been anything, I decided. Too much pot roast. A muscle spasm. I’d almost convinced myself I’d imagined it when another fluttering in a different part of my stomach left me wide-eyed. I nearly stopped breathing, then told myself that wouldn’t be healthy for any of us.

I used no magic but instead expanded my senses so that I could feel the air and water around me. I could hear the hum of insects outside and smell the leaves of the trees outside my window. The world fell into a comfortable harmony as I clasped my hands and rested them carefully on my stomach again. Another flutter answered me, and I realized that maybe, no matter how radically things had changed, I wasn’t alone after all.

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I’d thought my biggest obstacle in exile would simply be adjusting to a new area and new people. I was wrong. As it turned out, boredom soon became my greatest enemy in the following weeks.