778. Even

Mauve smiled and lifted herself carefully. Her stomach was much bigger now, and she couldn't just stand up as easily as she once would. Malcolm, watching her struggle, stood up from his seat.

"Never mind," he said with a chuckle. "I'll just come sit next to you."

He dropped into the chair beside her, and Mauve narrowed her eyes at the fact that he was clearly mocking her.

"If you had been just a little patient, I would have come to you," Mauve replied, but there was no anger in her voice.

"Yeah," Malcolm said absentmindedly.

Mauve wasn't sure what he was thinking about, but she didn't want him to feel bad for her. "How is the King?" she asked, changing the subject. She didn't care what happened to her father, and she was a little glad he was sick; otherwise, Malcolm wouldn't have as much authority as he currently did.

"Sick," he replied. "Very sick."

"What's wrong?" she asked.