Rain drizzles from a grey sky, turning the cobblestones on the street below a darker hue of slate. How cold and dreary this inhospitable place is compared to Nataria. Yet, standing in the window overlooking the street below, I realise over the past year I have grown accustomed to Port Marden.
The port town is always bustling, and there are a number of other foreign-born women living here, and they have welcomed me into their community with open arms. Together, we managed to secure a lease on a building and hope to open an orphanage in the new year.
Although I am far from my home and my family, at least here I feel useful. In fact, I would go as far as to say I would rather be here than anywhere else.
It is market day today, so despite the inclement weather, the street is still quite busy. Many of the figures huddled against the cold cross to the other side of the road rather than walking past the house where I live; a couple actually spit on the pavement outside. These are the people who arrived on the ferry from Hand, and their behaviour does not surprise me. What does interest me is that they chose to walk down the street where the "Natari Whore" lives at all. Perhaps the cold makes them think twice about taking the more circuitous route to the main square.
In recent months, their anger towards me increased. In their eyes, not only has their beloved duke been forced to marry a witch, but now the Natari nation was foisting my baby on them as the next heir to the ducal throne. The bloodline of the leading family on Hand would be tainted forever. It was because of the outbursts from some of the more vocal nobles that my husband had put off my return to the island. To him, my safety and that of our child was more important than anything.
I argued this course of action was giving in to our enemies. Not only did they continue to keep me from the palace, but it also gave them licence to question the legitimacy of our child as heir. Some of our friends supported me, but the memory of the knife being thrown at my head was too vivid an image for my duke to change his mind.
As if my baby senses I am thinking about it, it kicks as it moves inside me. I place my hand on my stomach and rub gently. 'Calm down, little one. I know you are eager to join us out here, and you will, soon. Just one more moon turn, and we will meet in person.'
I glimpse a familiar figure turn the corner. He glances up, and his eyes lock with mine just as they did the first day we met, and my heart skips a little as I smile. 'Look, little one, your father is here.'
My eyes follow his progress until I can see him no more, but I stay at my look-out, unmoving, until I know he is finally with me. I feel a cool breeze at my back as the door swings open. My heart beats faster, but I do not rush into his arms as I long to. I wait until he is almost beside me, and I turn to allow him to kiss me on both cheeks as Arian custom demands, before throwing myself into his arms.
My protruding stomach comes between us, but he bends down and gives me what I consider to be a proper kiss before tucking some wisps of hair behind my ear. He places a hand on my stomach.
'Our baby is active today. I think she will be like her mother, with honey hair and violet eyes and more energy than is sensible for one person to have.'
This is our little game, and I answer as I always do.
'Our son will be tall and strong like his father and will have dark eyes and black, curly hair, so your people will accept him as the next duke of the Southern Duchy and king of his people.'
Ours was not a love match, but standing together against the people of Hand had forged a strong bond between us. Although it was not the custom here, my husband consults me when making major decisions. He has a wit and intelligence that match my own, and I am growing more than fond of him, and I believe he has similar feelings for me.
I spy papers in his hand, and ask, 'You found out more about the prophecy?'
'I ordered refreshment brought up. The documents can wait until we relax and catch up on all the other news.'
He can be infuriating too, but I play this game. I follow him over to the two chairs placed either side of the fire, taking the one closest to the window. He tells me all the news from Hand, and I tell him the marketplace gossip from Port Marden. We drink our tea, but I cannot take my eyes off the papers. I fidget in my chair, and he raises a single eyebrow.
'I can wait no longer. Show me, please.'
He leans over and takes the scrolls off the table, then hands them to me. 'There is another in my bag. I found them precisely where I dreamed I would.'
I take them from him and eagerly begin reading. For a moment, I forget everything except the words in front of me, although I am sure my face reflects my joy. When I am finished, I look up. 'This is word for word as you recounted from your dream,' I say, brushing the tears from my eyes. 'We were fated to marry and fated to begin a line that would fulfil a great prophecy.'
He simply nods and passes me the final scroll. 'This one is not quite so certain as the others. It hints at the possibility of your line from Nataria fulfilling the prophecy alone. I guess the art of prophecy and foreseeing are not always so clear cut.'
I cannot stop myself frowning. I would hate for someone to be able to use this information against us. As I read, I realise this document is not as detailed as the others, and the arguments are not as strong. 'Is this enough to convince your dissenters that our marriage is in the best interests of Hand?'
There is a tightening of the muscles around his mouth, and I know the answer before he speaks. 'For the majority of my subjects, nothing we give them will ever be enough. You displayed your magic in public, and that will not be forgotten, or forgiven - ever.
'I do not ask forgiveness, only that they allow me to return without endangering my or our children's lives.'
'Many of those of the Old Blood say you should be put to death. The fact that you are here in Port Marden, where they allow spell casting, drives them crazy. Not even the knowledge we are likely to be starting a line that will save our people in the future will change their minds. In fact, many of them may never accept our child as heir.'
Too agitated to remain seated, I stand and pace out my frustrations.
'That's so hypocritical. You use your foresight for the good of your people all the time, and I am sure I sensed others on the island using small spells and glamours.'
He sighs and takes me in his arms. I know he would do anything to take away my hurt, but there is nothing he can do.
'So long as no one uses their gifts in public, there is no evidence they have them. And to prove it, you would have to use magic and - '
'And that would be used against me.' I bury my face in his jacket, and he holds me tighter.
'And if anyone found out about my powers, I would lose my position as duke, and those in Hand with magical abilities would be worse off.'
My shoulders slump, my anger spent.
'If I was not duke, then I would not have been able to sue for the peace that stopped the war - a war that decimated my people and yours. There are many who still resent me for giving in, sure we would have won our independence if only we had continued fighting.'
'I know.' My voice is muffled, but I am sure he hears me.
'And if I were no longer duke, we would not be able to place our son on the throne and thus meet the conditions of the prophecy.'
I push away from him so I can see his eyes. 'If our baby is a boy, will they accept him?'
'I believe if we do not parade the fact that you are his mother in front of them, then I think they will not question his being my heir.'
'So, even though you found the scrolls stating our marriage was destined, it is now our destiny to live our lives in separate houses. Not only that, but I must be separated from my children.'
The pain of this knowledge cuts deep, and again tears fill my eyes.
'I know I ask a lot of you, but I will ask it anyway, for the sake of our children, and for the sake of both of our peoples.'
The pain in his eyes mirrors my own, and I wonder what sort of life we would have had if I had ducked instead of using magic to save myself. I shake the thought away. We cannot change the past; we can only control how we live from now.
'Come, our guests will arrive soon, and we still have to dress.'