Most of the royal court didn’t believe the news until Gwynnyth’s belly began to grow. Once confirmed, loyal subjects threw parties, while others poked fun at the Queen for her “long wait.” 

Anders held feasts and balls to celebrate. Members of nobility wore everything from ecstatic grins to poorly hidden sneers. Gwynnyth had expected this range of responses, but one person’s muted reaction troubled her: Duke Krystofyr’s.

Ever since childhood, the two had bickered, boasted, and wrestled for attention. Though their relationship had mellowed over time, she suspected he actually wanted her to be barren. If she had no heir, the Duke’s own children would be next in line to the throne. 

She confronted him about it outright.

Krystofyr rolled his eyes at her, a privilege reserved to those in the Queen’s closest circle. “Perhaps it was a secret hope of mine, that my son would be king after our time on earth is done. But that was only a fantasy, nothing more. Believe me, I’m truly delighted you and Anders are finally getting the child you’ve wanted for so long.”

She squinted. “Hard to believe that you are overcome with glee.”

He smirked back. “I cannot lie. I am eager to see how someone as finicky as you handles a noisy, messy baby.”

“Aha!” The two continued back and forth, teasing each other.

Anders quipped with Krystofyr as well, but he did not doubt his friend’s loyalty. He had Storytold Krystofyr plenty of times in the past. In those memories, the Duke fiercely defended Anders and Gwynnyth from any critic. Anders’ only worry was the stipulation the fairy Life Goddess tacked to the end of his wish.

A shadow’s son.

Did that mean his child would be like him? Incomplete, shadowless, possessing strange abilities too frightening to reveal to other men? 

If that is the case, he thought with reluctance, then I will finally tell Gwynnyth the truth about what I am. But I will love my son no matter what he is or what he lacks. He will be perfect to me as he is.