6 October, 1370. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten
She'd genuinely thought it would be a long shot. A hope and a prayer, nothing more.
But perhaps the odds hadn't been stacked against her quite as much as she'd feared.
It's not like they were last time, were they, Celia? A baby had been the last thing on your mind that fortnight that you spent sharing Lucas's bed as you travelled from Magdaline Castle back to St Ivan's.
And yet the two of you managed to make Gabriel in those days.
So should you really be that surprised now?
Celia was almost positive she was pregnant again. She was queasy every morning and avoided breakfast. Certain smells seemed not just stronger than ever, but genuinely repulsive. She was lethargic.
She was also overjoyed.