Pegasus Girlfriend: Giovannia (complete)

Being heir and all, I was expected to marry, and since I was a woman, my father expected me to marry as soon as possible. It was a ridiculous notion to me, but to everyone else, it seemed so perfectly logical. I was barely out of my schooling and they expected me to drop it all and marry the first prince to walk by. I much prefer school to boys, and I wasn’t going to let one deter me from finishing my education. After all, I think being literate is much more important for ruling a kingdom than a man.

Braewood was struggling financially, so my father had been trying to set me up with someone who had more money than common sense. I had been paraded in front of so many suitors, I was starting to feel like a show pony rather than the heir to the kingdom. While my father thought setting me up with a rich royal would solve all of Braewood’s problems, I was trying to educate myself about it. I was writing up a plan to show to my father which would take unused properties on Braewood Royal ground and turn it into something that would make us money rather than just sit there.

One afternoon, the new cadets were being honored for graduating and passing the rigorous training course. It was the same pomp and circumstance as always, just a bunch of young centaurs waiting to go to war. 

“Giovannia,” my father calls me over before we go to the ceremony. “There’s a special award going to one of the new cadets, I was hoping you could put the medal around his neck.”

I sigh and shake my head. “What sort of meathead award is this?”

“It’s a valor honor!” My father snaps at me as he places the case in my hands. “During their sample tour, they were attacked by harpies and he risked himself to protect his classmates.”

I huff and keep my eyes averted. “Yeah, ok,” I grumble.

I went down onto the stage when it was time to honor the cadet. I wasn’t looking forward to it, the cadets always had a way of staring. Then again, after being in barracks with the same gross bunch of meatheads for months, I would probably stare at something different too. 

“And now, to receive the special valor honor, cadet Romulus.” The teacher of the military academy announces and the crowd erupts into applause. He opens the case and I take out the medal.

Romulus then comes on stage and he is the most terrifying creature I have ever seen. He is like a void walking towards me, all black from his hooves to the tips of his ears. His hair is longer than mine and styled with simple braids to keep it away from his face. As he stands before me, his power and height is overwhelming. I had always been a bit small, but he makes me completely aware of it.

Romulus’ dark eyes glitter as he looks at me.

“I uhm-” I gasp, floundering a bit as I gaze at him. “I’ll need you to kneel, sir,” my voice quivers.

Romulus tilts his head and then he places his hand over mine. “As great an honor as this is, it does not belong to me alone. I don’t deserve to wear it, if everyone in my troop cannot wear it.”

“Really?” I blurt it out without thinking. “I mean, that’s very admirable.”

His posture is stiff and his shoulders are squared. He takes the medal and puts it back into the case. “Display it at the academy, in honor of all of those that have served before and will serve in the future.” He turns and looks at me and bows his head. “It was an honor to meet you, your highness.”

I am flabbergasted, but this young soldier had truly impressed me. He is the darkest of nights and so serious. I find myself thinking about him after the ceremony. At first, it is just an idle thought here or there. Soon I am wondering what sort of books he reads, if he likes poetry, does his deep raspy voice sound good when he sings? I am becoming enamored with a young man I barely know and I had only met once. I am also ashamed of myself for falling for someone who is tall, dark, and handsome.

I am leaving my studies for the day when I see my father come towards me. “Giovannia,” he calls to me. “I have wonderful news!”

I force myself to keep my eyes from rolling. “I’ll save my excitement for when I hear it.”

“I finally found a replacement for your guard,” he replies. “Remember that cadet from the ceremony who you awarded the valor honor to?” 

My heart skips a beat. “Not really,” I lie through my teeth.

“I got him!” My father cheers. “So now, when you travel, he will go with you. He’s getting situated right now, but tomorrow, I will introduce you two properly. Having such an admirable young man as your guard will really impress.”

“Impress who?” I grumble under my breath as he walks away.

The next day, I am standing before Romulus again. The young man I hadn’t been able to take my mind off of is now going to be my guard. He is going to be in the castle everyday and when I travel or leave the palace, he will be by my side. I am really in hot water now.

Romulus bows before me. “Your highness, it is an honor to meet you again.”

His voice alone is scary, adding it to his size and appearance he is a force of nature. It seems like such a waste he is being relegated to being a babysitter. 

“Thank you,” I reply. “But I really should be the one to be honored. I’m surprised you would even take on a job like this.”

His dark eyes glimmer as he looks down at me. “Protecting the future of our kingdom is of great importance. I can think of nothing I would rather do.”

My face is growing warm and I fear I am staring too much at his chest, but his pecs look good enough to snuggle between. I try to shake the thought from my head and I am further ashamed of myself.

“You flatter me by saying that, but really, the citizens of Braewood are what is important. New leaders can be found everywhere, but it is the people I feel we should really protect.”

Romulus tilts his chin up. He says nothing and he follows me out to the gardens where I am having an art lesson. I’ll admit, I am better at things like math, and I can weave myself through poetry, but actually writing poems or creating works of art has never been my strong suit. 

Romulus stands guard while my art teacher prattles on and on, nagging me from time to time for not keeping up. I’ve never liked my art teacher, he verges on the edge of creepy and he is always touching. He had made me feel uncomfortable at one time or another, especially his lesson on anatomy, something about it made my skin crawl.

“Not like that!” He comes over to me and puts his arm around my waist. He grabs my wrist and then places his other hand on my waist. “Hold your brush like this.” he guides my hand. “And don’t be so rough.” His hand on my waist is moving upwards.

I go stiff from fear and my throat shuts tight. His fingers are brushing along my breast and his hand on my wrist is starting to hurt. “You have to caress the canvas. Slow and easy. You can’t just go in at it so hard and rough, your highness.”

“Please, stop,” I tremble, but my voice is too weak.

“No,” he says. “I am showing you the proper way to paint! Now hold still.”

I close my eyes tight but in that next moment, he’s ripped away. I look down as Romulus drags him across the ground. The art teacher shouts and berates him, calling me horrible names. Romulus punches him and then ties his hands to a tree.

“I saw what you did!” Romulus’ voice is a low angry snarl. “I saw everything! You’re a monster and I will let the king know!”

“I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to!” The art teacher cries. “Please! Don’t tell the king! What would you know? Look at her, she wanted me to!”

Romulus turns and looks at me. “She is crying!”

“Because she knows what she did,” the art teacher struggles against the binds on his hands. “She doesn’t want to get caught!”

I know I should be yelling and screaming at him about how horribly wrong he is, but I can’t find the words. I’m so terrified that I’m still frozen in place.

“How dare you?” Romulus growls. “I bet if I go and ask any one of your other students, they would say the same thing about you. You lie and you take and you think you can get away with it? I know what I saw!”

“It’ll ruin me, please! Just let me go and I’ll quit my job here!” The art teacher cries. He’s sobbing and it’s making me sick.

Romulus turns to me. “Are you alright?” His voice is now so gentle and comforting.

I sniffle and nod. “Thank you.”

“It’s ok,” he comforts me. He takes hold of my hands and gently rubs his thumbs across my knuckles. “Take deep breaths.” He brushes the hair from my face. “Go inside, I’ll deal with him.” He walks me to the door and then makes sure a handmaid sees to me before he goes back outside.

My parents fight that evening, mainly my mother is yelling at my father for hiring that teacher in the first place. I hear from some of the handmaids later that when he was dragged out of the palace, he looked like he’d been put through a gauntlet of beatings. 

My mother insists on sending me away for a while so I can heal and get over what happened. She sends me to an old estate that belongs to her family, along with some handmaids and Romulus as well.

The old house is clean but stuffy. It hasn’t been used in such a long time, so the handmaids air it out and dust while I sit on the back porch, reading. Romulus stands guard by the door, looking like a statue carved from onyx. 

“Romulus?” I speak softly.

He turns his head. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” I set my book aside. “I wanted to thank you properly.” I quickly cast my eyes down. “What you did for me, I can never repay you. I’m so grateful.”

“I only did my job, your highness,” Romulus answers. “I protected you and dealt away with an abhorrent creature.”

“You don’t understand what that means to me.” I stand before him. “I am not comfortable with people getting close to me. Let alone someone taking advantage. I don’t often like being touched, even a handshake can be uncomfortable.” I press my lips into a tight line. “He took advantage of something very important to me, to all women, I believe. You may have just been doing your job, but you did it knowing you might have risked it.”

“It wasn’t fair what he did. If I had lost my job, I would have been proud either way.” Romulus tilts his head to the side. “It is more important you are safe and you feel safe.”

My pulse is quickening and my body is growing warm. “Let me thank you, properly,” I say again. “Can you tilt your head down?”

Romulus kneels and I place a soft kiss on his cheek. As I do, Romulus bows his head even lower. “You honor me beyond words, your highness.”

“I would gladly honor you more, if you’d let me.” I twist my fingers about. “I mean, if you wanted me to,” my voice cracks.

Romulus looks at me with those darker than night eyes of his. His lips part as he gazes at me and my heart trills in that moment. I have never taken notice of anyone before the way I notice him. I’ve never felt such a surge of emotions all at once, so much so I am scared, but I also enjoy it.

“I have been trained to keep my will as strong as iron, your highness,” his voice is low and quiet. “But you are melting it.”

“Your highness!” One of the handmaids bounces towards the door so suddenly I nearly leap from my skin. “The house is all ready and we have your room dressed. You can come in now, we’re making tea!”

“Thank you, Eloise!” My voice is shrill in that moment and Eloise gives me a questioning look.

“Romulus, sir,” Eloise then asks, “are you hungry?”

“No, I uhm--I need to check the parameters.” He leaves the porch and I quickly make my way inside.

“Your highness, what did I walk in on?” Eloise whispers to me.

“Never you mind!” My voice squeaks. I clear my throat and huff. “Thank you, Eloise, for taking care of things. Tea sounds lovely. Do we also have those butter cookies?”

The next day, I am in the study, looking over all the old books filling the shelves. Romulus is standing by the door and I keep glancing his way. I must have read the same passage in one book over and over. My mind keeps wandering and I think perhaps I have made a mistake. 

“Romulus,” I then call to him. “I need your help.”

“What is it, your highness?” He steps into the room and bows his head.

I point up to a high shelf. “Fetch that red book for me, please?”

Romulu walks up beside me, standing so we’re very close. He reaches up, takes the book down and hands it to me. “As you wish.”

My hands tremble as I take hold of the book. “Thank you, Romulus.”

“Is there any other book I can get for you while I am here?” He asks.

I shake my head. “No,” I whisper. “Just that one.”

“Then may I ask a favor of you, your highness?” Romulus’ low voice vibrates along my skin.

“What is that?” I ask him.

“Do you mind if I touch you?” He asks. “Just your hair.”

I look up through my lashes at him and silently nod. His rough hand touches the top of my head and his fingers glide through my hair. “Can I touch your cheek?”

I nod again and his hand cups my cheek. His skin is warm and his palm is worn and callused from holding a sword and fighting. 

“May I brush my thumb along your lips?” He sounds breathless.

“Yes,” I whisper.

His thumb touches my lips and drags along the plump bottom one. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

My heart is gone, it has flown the coop, it can no longer take this madness. My lashes flutter as I meet his gaze. “I would like you to.”

Romulus has to bend his knees in order to kiss me. He presses his lips to mine and I place my hands on his chest. His pulse is strong and rapid, hard to imagine such a terrifying figure as being so afraid.

We part and I stare up at him as I try to think of something to say. “You’re so beautiful,” the words slip out.

Romulus ducks his head down. “Thank you, your highness.”

“I’ve never seen someone like you before,” I whisper. “A centaur of your caliber must be something rare indeed.” I drop my hands from his chest. “You’re very much the Black Knight from the stories.”

“I was teased for that as a child,” he replies.  “Being born during the darkest hour of a new moon gave me this complexion.” 

“It’s lovely,” I whisper to him.

“Not as lovely as your black hair,” he whispers. 

I smile softly. “I was born on a full moon,” I tell him. 

“A new moon and a full moon,” Romulus whispers. “We’re the ending and the beginning.” He then glances away. “I should return to my post.”

“Wait,” I gasp. “I uhm...one more book?” I hold up a finger. “Please?”

Romulus turns back to me. “Only a book?”

“That one,” I point somewhere random and Romulus reaches up. “May I touch your hair?” I ask him.

“If you’d like,” he says, keeping his hand raised on the spine of the book.

I run my fingers through his silky hair. It’s sheen and the texture is much finer than mine and it smells like rosewater. I twist his locks around my fingers then bring it close and place a kiss upon it. 

Romulus takes down the random book. “Is that all?”

I step closer to him. “One more?”

He goes to take a book without me even motioning to one. He tilts his head down and we kiss again. I hold his strong jaw between my palms and let my lips brush against his. I press kisses to his cheek and jaw, I kiss his neck and linger there as I breathe in his scent.

“Tea is almost ready!” I hear Eloise sing from the end of the hall.

Romulus jerks and pulls several books off the shelf, making them rain down on us. I cup my hand over my mouth trying to keep from laughing. 

“Dangerous,” Romulus grumbles as he kneels to pick up the books. “That’s what this is.” He places the books back on the shelf as I hand them to him. “We shouldn’t be this reckless.”

“I know,” I whisper. I look up at him and my heart sputters. “But you’re the only one who makes me feel this way. No one else has ever made me want to kiss or get so close.”

Romulus sighs. “Just remember, I am yours,” he replies. “Your knight, your protector, and anything you need of me.”

I struggle with my feelings, knowing that one day I would have to give up my feelings for Romulus in order to marry. I am helpless though, falling for him each time we pass one another, each stolen or hidden kiss we share, I cannot deny my own growing adoration of Romulus anymore.

The day I am supposed to leave and head home to Braewood, a messenger comes to the door. He delivers a message from my mother, telling me to stay on the estate as war has been declared. The kingdom of Briarlock has always been on foul terms with Braewood. The king there has always had a bitter hatred for my father for marrying my mother, who was engaged to him previously.

“It’ll be safer for you here,” Romulus tells me. “I’ll make sure they send another guard to come keep watch over you.”

I go ice cold in that instant. I had been terrified of the prospect of war, but I thought I would at least have Romulus with me. Hearing this, I now fear the absolute worst.

“What do you mean?” I try to laugh it off. “Are you going?”

“I have to.” Romulus bows his head low. “My duties here are great, but my vow to protect the kingdom is at stake. I can’t sit here while my friends and comrades go out there to war. I have to go too, you must understand this.”

“I do, I just-” I feel faint and as if I might topple over at any instant. I start taking in deep, quick breaths. “This is war! This is real.” I clutch my hands over my chest as my breathing begins to hurt. “You could get hurt out there! What if you-” I cup my hand around my mouth to silence the words.

Romulus puts his hands on my shoulders. “Your highness,” he coaxes me with that sweet voice he only uses for me. “Look at me, look into my eyes.”

Tears fall down my cheeks as I look into those onyx crystal eyes of his. “I will come back to you. In two or fifty pieces if I must, but I will return.”

“One piece,” a sob escapes my throat. “You will return in one piece, soldier.” I swallow down another bleating sob and try to sound commanding.

Romulus smiles at me and kisses my forehead. “Stay here, stay safe. And when you truly need me, I’ll return.”

He leaves that afternoon, returning to Braewood to join the fight to protect it. I know he is one of the greatest warriors to ever exist in Braewood, but I am terrified all the same. I pray to the goddess every hour that he is ok and that he will be protected. 

I join the handmaids in keeping the house clean, scrubbing every inch, every floorboard, every shelf. All of us are wanting to keep our minds busy and focused on our own feelings of dread and worry. We await news with baited breath everyday, hoping to see some sort of hope on the horizon. 

I write letters to Romulus daily, hoping that perhaps even a scribble about my day or idle thoughts might be able to brighten his day. He writes back every so often, each letter he talks about the warriors in his troop and how shocked he is by how young some of them are. He asks me to write down each of their names and keep them close, because he fears some of them will need help once the war is over. He never really goes into detail about himself, aside from a repeated phrase at the end of each letter.

“I am thinking of you and I am safe.”

Then there is a stretch of several weeks where there is no mail one way or the other. The handmaids and I keep busier than ever. They teach me to sew and knit, and we’ve made quilts and hats together. The weather is getting bleak and cold, and once it begins to snow, it doesn’t stop. We eventually have to leave the house due to the snow and cold, and return back to the palace.

Part of the palace has been turned into a hospital for the sick and injured, so I have taken to sharing a room with my handmaids so bigger quarters could be used to house the sick. It feels that some days, the world is falling down and there is no way to escape it. Not only have I not heard from Romulus, but news from my father has stopped as well. It has been a month since my mother and I have heard anything. Last we knew, he was leading a stand against the Briarlock army towards the east. After that, all mail had stopped completely. 

It is getting closer to Spring and the buds are peeking from the snow and the trees are starting to turn green. It is then we finally receive word on my father. During the stand, he had been gravely injured. He would have been killed had a soldier not protected him and saved his life. He is heading home due to his injuries so we start preparing a room for him. 

Once father returns home, we get to see the extent of his injuries. The doctors say he needs more surgery and with some luck, he’ll be up and about soon. Once he is strong enough, we are able to take him on walks in the garden so he can get fresh air. One side effect of his injury is that he has lost his memory, although it is coming back bit by bit everyday. He can’t remember the battle or the soldier who saved his life, but he is starting to recall flashes of the days before the stand.

“It’s a strange thing not being able to recall memories I know that I have,” he tells me one day. We walk through the roses and he admires the buds that are starting to turn pink. “Remember when you were little and you got a marble stuck in one of your mother’s favorite vases?”

“It’s still in there,” I chuckle. “We could never get it out, so Mother just stuck it up on a high shelf.”

“Ah-” my father nods. “That’s right. That’s right.” We continue walking along.

“What about it?” I ask him.

“Oh! Right!” He chuckles. “Keep me on task, dear, I’m having a hard time with it. But anyways, remember how we could never get it out? We kept getting the marble towards the mouth, but it always rolled away or bounced at the last second.”

“I do,” I answer him.

“Well, that’s how my memory feels. It’s like there is this small marble that’s just big enough to get in, but somehow too big to get out, so it’s rattling around inside my head, appearing at the mouth for a second before it rolls away again into the shadows.” He stops in his tracks and looks out towards the iron fence around the garden. Beyond it, the clouds are a vibrant pink and orange, looking very much like sherbert.

“A shadow,” my father mulls the word over. “A shadow. Dark. Shadow.” He taps his temple. “Why can I not remember this?”

“It’s ok, father, you don’t have to force yourself.” I squeeze his hand.

“No. No. It’s something important. Something about you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs his temples with both hands. “I know it’s there, I just can’t-”

“Father, it’s ok.” I soothe his arms back down. “Calm now. You won’t remember by forcing it.”

He scowls and shakes his head. “I almost had it. Almost.”

A few days later, as we’re eating dinner, my father is staring at a bowl of blackberries and his eyes become unfocused. He then gasps and his eyes go crystal clear. “Romulus,” he says.

I nearly drop my spoon and I look at him. “What did you say?”

“The guard!” He sputters and shakes his hand in the air. “The big obsidian centaur,” he gasps. “I remember now!” My father laughs and grins. “He’s the one who saved my life!”

“Romulus did?” My chest is fit to burst. “Is he ok?”

“Better than,” my father replies. “I think,” he scowls again. “Oh no, there it goes again.” He slouches back down in his seat and his tail swings sadly behind him. “There was something important I told him. I can’t remember now. But I know it was him.”

By the middle of Spring, Briarlock surrenders and the war has ended. My father is in no health to travel to Briarlock and accept the surrender, so I am being sent in his place. I am a raw ball of nerves as I take the journey. I am nervous for what could happen and for what I would find when I got there. 

When I first arrive, I insist on meeting the wounded. I greet those who could see me and thank them for everything they had done. But soon, my duty calls and I go to accept the surrender from the former king of Briarlock. The ceremony is stark and bleak as he walks onto the stage. He bows before me, handing over his crown, which I take into my hands and then pour ashes on his head. He then leaves to be in exile, and Briarlock and everything within it now belongs to my family and Braewood.

“Wait, it’s not done yet,” General Harker whispers to me.

“What? What else is to be done?” I ask him.

“That’s right,” Harker gasps. “I guess your father would have forgotten to tell you. You’re honoring the soldier who saved you, you’re crowning him and giving him Briarlock Keep.”

Trumpets blast and I almost jump off the stage. I look towards the stairs and I see a tall, dark figure walk towards me. My hands tremble as I clutch the crown, and I fight back tears as I look into the onyx crystals of his eyes.

Romulus bows his head. “Your highness.”

My mouth opens as I take in a shuddering breath. “Romulus,” I smile.

He bows down and I place the crown upon his head. I hold myself back from wrapping him up in my arms and kissing him. I take hold of his hands instead, kissing his knuckles while the crowd cheers. 

That evening, I have a feast and celebration made for all the soldiers and I hold a special dinner for the high ranking officers and the new lord of Briarlock. I watch Romulus all night as he drinks and eats. As the night progresses, I leave to go to my chambers. As soon as my door is closed, there is a knock upon them.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“It’s me,” his voice awakens my heart again. “Let me in, hurry.”

I open the door and pull him inside, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. “I missed you so much!”

He moans as he holds me. His strong hands rub down my back and hold to the curve where my waist meets my lower half. Romulus buries his face in my hair and places kisses on my forehead and temple.

“I hadn’t heard from you in so long! I was so scared!” I cry.

“Didn’t your father tell you?” Romulus rubs his thumb under my eye to catch the tears.

“The injury messed with his memory.” I clasp my hand around the side of my head. “He’s having a hard time recalling anything. I didn’t even know I would see you today, let alone you’d become lord of Briarlock.”

“Before all that,” he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

I nod and he moves quick, dipping down and capturing my cheeks in his palms. He lays a long, sweet kiss on my lips that I had been missing all this time. We kiss again and again, clinging to one another in desperation. He tugs a bit too hard on my shirt and the buttons pop and the fabric rips.

“I’m sorry!” He takes a quick step back but his eyes become focused on my chest.

I place my hand over my breasts and look up at him. We’re both breathing heavy and silent as our minds process what just happened.

“It’s ok,” I shrug off the now ripped shirt and toss it aside.

Romulus averts his eyes and I place my hand on his cheek. “Touch me,” I whisper to him. I take his hand and hold it to my breast. “I want you to.”

“Giovannia,” he moans as his fingers flex. “I really shouldn’t.”

I press his palm closer, letting him feel the softness of my bosom. “It’s ok.”

Romulus kisses me and runs his fingers on my bare skin. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he moans.

“It can wait until morning.” I kiss his neck and open up his shirt to expose his chest. “For now, I want to forget everything.”

Romulus sighs. “You’re melting me again.”

We join together that night, making love for the first time. It is awkward and messy, nothing I will eagerly whisper about to friends. It is private and our own. I lay awake and watch him fade into the darkness. The only way I know he is still there is the warmth right beside me and his arm under my head. We’re both laying on our sides, which this small bed barely allows.

I sit up at one point and look outside at the moon which is half full. If Romulus is the new moon and I am the full moon, then the half moon is the perfect night. I kiss his cheek and he stirs restlessly.

“Is something wrong?” He croaks.

“I love you,” I whisper to him.

Romulus rises off the bed and kisses me. “I love you too.” 

“I don’t know what will happen now,” I whisper to him. “But I do know what I want. I want you and I want to marry you.”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you.” Romulus brushes my hair away from my face. “Your father made me Lord of Briarlock so that I could marry you.”

I stop breathing entirely.

“He said he wouldn’t be able to trust anyone else with you the way he trusted me.” Romulus presses his forehead to mine. “We’ve been betrothed all this time, Giovannia.”

I whimper and bury my face on his chest. “You could have told me!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but then you distracted me.” He pets my hair and down my back. “Are you happy now?” He whispers. “Is this everything that you wanted?”

“I didn’t know I wanted this,” I sigh. “I was always content with my books and studies. You were never something I even counted on.”

Romulus chuckles and kisses my forehead. “My full moon,” he whispers. “I’ve been waiting on you for so long.”

Once we return home to Braewood, it is apparent that my father’s memory is failing him more and more. It is decided that I am to be crowned Queen of Braewood as soon as possible. Not long after, I am married to Romulus and he is crowned king. The ceremony is beautiful and we end up taking our honeymoon to the estate where we first fell in love.

I take my duties as Queen seriously, and working with Romulus, we’re able to rule as partners equally. There are still issues with Briarlock and integrating it into our kingdom. I am grateful for Romulus in our meetings; he doesn’t say anything. All he does is stand behind me and cast intimidating glares towards everyone at the table. He makes negotiating easy, no one wants to anger the terrifying centaur made of obsidian and onyx. 

My father passes in his sleep one fall morning and we bury him in the family graveyard beside his parents. After that, I suppose I start treating my grief and stress by overeating. It seems like I can never get enough. I finish eating a meal and I want a snack. I finish a snack and I can’t wait for the next meal. I know I am gaining weight, but I don’t know how to stop myself.

It isn’t until one morning, as I am trying to get dressed, that I can’t close my shirt. I admit, I have been having trouble trying to button lately, but today, it seems impossible to fit my shirt around my breasts alone.

“I think we should call the doctor,” Romulus suddenly speaks up.

“For what?” I snap at him, “because I’m fat?” I suddenly feel the painful hot surge of tears and anger run through me. “How could you say that?” I start to sob.

“No! Of course not,” Romulus says sternly. “Because you’re obviously pregnant.”

I sniffle and wipe my face. “What?”

Romulus slips his hand under my flank and to my belly. “It’s warm here,” he murmurs. “And it’s not soft, it’s a little hard actually.” He looks up at me. “My love, you’re pregnant.”

“I-” I gasp and cup my hands around my face. “It can’t be, I-we’ve been so busy!”

Romulus kisses me and smiles brightly. “We should still call the doctor, just in case.” He hugs me tight. “But we’re having a baby!”

I hide my face against his shoulder and hold on fast to him. “I can’t believe this!” I laugh. “Romulus!”

The doctor confirms it. In fact, I’m farther along than we thought. After everything that has happened, I suppose I had just ignored the symptoms and explained them away as stress and the grief of losing my father. 

During the last few months of the pregnancy, I am put on bed rest. I have gotten so heavy, it is hard to walk and it is starting to give me back pains. I feel restless and I’m not used to not working, so I’m afraid I’ve complained a lot to Romulus. 

Then, one crisp spring morning, our son is born. Romulus carries the small baby out onto the veranda and lets the sky touch him for the first time. The sky is a perfect blue, tinged with the purple and pink of morning. As Romulus places him back in my arms, his hair is a vibrant blue and full of curls.

“We’ve discussed so many names,” I coo as the baby nurses. His tiny hands press against my breast as he grunts in frustration that he can’t eat fast enough. “But looking at him now, none of them seem right at all.”

Romulus adjusts the baby’s blanket only for the baby to kick it away again. “He’s so small,” he murmurs. “He fits right in my palm.”

I giggle and kiss the baby’s forehead. “He’ll grow, unfortunately,” I giggle. “If he’s anything like you, that is.”

“What if we nam Yue him after your father?” Romulus suggests. “I know you had said you didn’t want that, but the more I look at him, I do see your father.”

I sigh and wipe his cheek. “He does,” I murmur. “I see it.”

The baby stops eating and Romulus takes him to burp him. “Blumiere,” he murmurs.

Blumiere burps loud and then starts to fuss and sniffle.

“I think he likes it,” Romulus is grinning from ear to ear as he holds his son in his arms. “Blumiere, my little blue angel.”

Blumiere grows quicker than I would’ve liked. Before I know it, he is running around in the garden, chasing dragonflies into the pond and swimming. He hasn’t yet started his lessons, but I have been reading to him so much, he has already started the basics of reading on his own.

I am also much quicker to realize when I am pregnant the second time. Blumiere is excited to be a big brother and has started making up names he will rattle off to me any chance he gets. 

“You keep naming off boy names,” Romulus teases. “What if you have a sister?”

“She can have one of those names!” Blumiere huffs.

Romulus chuckles. “So you don’t mind a sister?”

“I like girls,” Blumiere says.

“That’s not what I asked.” Romulus says with a big grin. “Do you want a brother? Or would you prefer a sister?”

“As long as they’re quiet,” Blumiere huffs. “I don’t want to lose any sleep about it.”

I giggle and look back at my belly. “You hear that, little one? Your brother wants you to be quiet.”

Blumiere then walks over and touches my belly. “I’ll protect you, ok? You’re gonna be little, so you’re gonna need me around.” He rubs my belly then jumps back. “It hit me!”

I giggle as Blumiere hides behind me. I run my fingers through his beautiful blue hair and smile at him. “Your new sibling was saying hello. They kicked because they’re excited to see you too.”

“Did it hurt?” Blumiere pouts.

“It was like a gas bubble.” I tickle his belly. “Like when you need to burp.”

Blumiere giggles and laughs and runs back over to his dad. “I think we should name them Clotaire then.”

“Clotaire?” Romulus asks. “How come?”

“Just like the story. Clotaire flew up into the sky and kicked the storm clouds away, that’s why the sun is so bright.”

Romulus turns and grins at me. “I think we have a winner.”

I nod in agreement. “Clotaire. It’s perfect.”

Perfect didn’t last. By the time Clotaire was three, he was kidnapped from the gardens. Marlivaur, our newest guard for the boys, nearly lost his life trying to bring him back. Blumiere was crushed, having insisted on taking his brother out to play. A shadow was cast over us and for so long, I mourned the loss of my baby.

But today, I hold in my arms my grandchild, a small girl with dappled spots just like her father, my lost son. Clotaire came back to us and with him, a whole new family. The shadow is gone and while perfect is still far away, I am happy. 

My Romulus is no longer a statue of obsidian, his hair is turning gray and he has fading spots along his flanks. I like to tell him that my full moon is rubbing off on him and stars are appearing from behind the clouds.

“All these years,” Romulus whispers to me, “Are you still happy?”

I kiss him lovingly. “I have you, of course I’m happy.” I brush my hand through his hair and curl it around my fingers. I kiss it and it still smells like rosewater.

Our granddaughter starts to fuss so Romulus picks her up out of her crib. “She’s so small,” he murmurs. “Even smaller than Blumiere was.”

“She’ll grow big,” I grin as she hiccups. “She’s got her grandfather in her.”