She did not consider that a failing.
Some people were not built for it. He had lived far longer than she could fully grasp, had spent decades, perhaps centuries, as an immovable pillar beneath the weight of an entire territory, shielding everyone who sought shelter in his shadow. It was not a small thing to ask, on top of all of that, that he also know how to speak gently to a three-year-old who loved him without condition.
And then the thought came, unbidden and sharp: What if she conceived?
It arrived without warning, cold and precise, embedding itself before she could turn it away.
Their intimacy had proceeded without protection, every time, without pause, without deliberation in the middle of wanting and being wanted. Her hand moved to her abdomen without her fully deciding to move it, fingertips pressing lightly against the flat, smooth plane beneath the blankets as though something might answer the question from within.
She pulled the thought back almost immediately.
