Lady of the Veiled Vale

Recovery

"She looks better," Kevin said two days later. "If I dinna believe my sister was a demigoddess before, I do now. Even demon regeneration wouldn't account for her rapid recovery; not two generations removed, anyway."

   Samantha frowned at her brother. "Must you throw that in my face so often?"

   Kevin's startled face swung to hers. "Pardon?"

   She threw down her pencil, heedless of its fragile nature. It snapped cleanly in two.

   "Perfect little Gwinny has it all! Everyone here worships the ground she walks on, which is just grand, 'cause she's a goddess anyway. Why don't we just build her a shrine while we're at it?"

   Kevin looked down his wide nose at her. "Studies goin' badly, are they?"

   She stood to pace, but her stomach got caught on the desk. "Not only that, but I'm carrying the spawn of a Black Dragon. As if the normal hormones weren't enough, I've got a permanent reminder of him growing inside me."

   The dwarf reminded his sister what the midwife had told them. "Kitta said you've got to think happy thoughts, remember? She said your thoughts influence how he'll turn out. If you let this jealousy eat you up, then the baby will turn out like his father!"

   She let out a howl of frustration.

   Suddenly inspired, he asked if she'd been to the Elven Enclave yet.

   "How can I? I'm with child; four months gone, I might add. What man is going to want me now?"

   Kevin smirked. "Mayhap 'tis not a man ye need, but an elf. We've no idea what they're like, ye know. I realize they don't need ta be part o' yer book, but at least get to know 'em before ye write 'em off!"

   She groaned, partly at the pun and partly because he was right. "Fine, but I've got to change first. I'm all smudged."

   He happily pushed her toward the changing screen in her bedroom. "G'won then, put on yer best frock. Why not try out some of that elven stuff Gran gave you?"

   Up until now, she had spurned the garments, wearing instead her British gowns, but she had to admit that they were getting tight. Even going without a corset wasn't helping.

   "Oh!"

   Kevin smiled at her cry of feminine delight. There was rustling of fabric, and happy coos, until she finally emerged from behind the screen. His jaw sagged to his chest.

   "What do you think?" She asked, half fearing his response.

   Quite honestly, he had to say that if she weren't his sister, he'd be thinking naughty thoughts. Instead, he said "I think that if some handsome elf doesn't snap ye up, they're all crazy."

   She beamed down at him and all but skipped out the door.

   Across the Fields from them, Gwinneth rolled her eyes. She accepted the fruit that her husband insisted she eat, though her hands were wrist deep in a thigh wound. She sealed the artery, then the muscles, and last of all, the skin. "All right, Horace. Good as new, yes? Let's see you walk, please."

   The minotaur climbed to his feet and tested his leg with his full weight before taking a step forward. When he was sure the leg wouldn't buckle, he took a few steps under the watchful eye of the Lady of the Vale.

   "No alteration in the gait, good. Right, you're ready to go. Watch out for those fences, now. I don't want to see you back here, no offense."

   It had become something of a running joke in Sanctuary. The minotaur bowed deeply to the Lady, further proving the soundness of his leg, and solemnly promised to be more careful.