“Auntie says this is because I need to get under the sea on a regular occasion.”

“Do you know this for certain?” he asked.

“I have four cousins. You have met them. I think she knows,” she answered.

Aramus simply scowled at her.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured. “We’ll stay at Jorie’s palace. He’s welcomed us to do so as he’s in Fire City to await the arrival of Silence and Mars’s baby.”

Aramus turned his gaze out the window, where he was standing during this (most recent, it must be said, his wife could fight her corner, brilliantly—it’d be bloody annoying, if he didn’t admire it so much) argument with his wife.

He saw nothing but sea.

Normally, this soothed him.

Now, it did not.

“Aramus, you can breathe under the water. We go swimming all the time. You—”

He turned to her and gritted out, “You’ve been sick…all day…every day…for a month.”

Her curls bounced as her head jolted.

She then unfolded her legs from beneath her, took her feet beside their bed, and moved to him.

She put one hand to his chest, the fingers of the other she curled around his neck, and she got up on her toes.

“Even non-Mer women retch and do it often during pregnancy,” she assured.

His brows rose. “All day, every day, for a month?”

“Yes. Or for three months. Sometimes the entire pregnancy.”

Fucking hell.

He did not know this.

He did not like this.

“But Auntie Ha-Zahlah feels The Deep will help,” she said softly. “So I would like to try, but not without you.”

“You go bloody nowhere without me,” he decreed.

Her face grew gentle, and she leaned closer. “Of course not. And if it doesn’t work, we will come back.”

He grunted.

“Aramus, I will be fine.”

“I am sure,” he retorted. “You are strong and smart and give up on nothing. But this will be our only child.”

She blinked, and when she was done, her crystal eyes were huge.

“Pardon?” she asked.

“I will not have you endure this another time. It doesn’t matter. I’ve already decided, boy or girl, first born will take over the kingdom…or queendom as it were.”

“As much as I very much like that, my darling, we are not only having one child.”

He curled his arms about her and looked out to the sea, murmuring, “We shall see.”

“Yes, we will,” she murmured back. “Now, let us see about rectifying the fact you haven’t made love to me in a month.”

His eyes fell to hers. “You’ve been ill.”

“I’m not ill right now.”

“And I’m not making you ill.”

She pressed to him and her siren’s voice became a siren’s song. “You won’t make me ill.”

His cock took notice.

It was his mind that refused. “Absolutely not.”