Time passes with an alarming haste. My midriff expands ever further, the child within proving swift in his growth. I look to the clothing I have crafted for my little one in various sizes and shades and I fear that if he continues at such a rate, he will outgrow them before I have a chance to make more! I say "he" for I believe that such is to be - a son for my love and I - for what daughter would kick quite so hard?
Such idle fancies take up my spare time. I have so much of it now. Rellas will barely allow me to make a sandwich for myself without well-meant intervention. He treats me alike the finest of crystal; delicate and prone to breaking at the slightest thing. It can be infuriating at times - I am pregnant, not afflicted by a wasting disease - but I do not complain. He acts solely out of a wish to see me well, and to see my child come into this world whole and healthy. I must admit that his aid has been invaluable, even as his attempts at gardening have proven amusing. He will make a fine husband, I think, and a fine father one day. I only hope that the woman who turns his gaze from me is deserving of his devotion.
In the meantime, I sit in the garden and watch the roads. Minalmano flies aloft daily, seeking news to bring back. I watch and I wait; not just for her, but also for my missing love. I have heard nothing from Cyfier since his departure and now I begin to fear.
He will return to me, this I know. So many times have I believed him lost forever only to have him find me once more. So many times has he vanished without trace only to come back when I least expected it. It is not for his life that I fear; I have faith in his continued existence. No, it is merely the timing that concerns me.
I fear that our child will enter this world without his father so much as knowing of his actuality. I wonder if I will have to explain to Cyfier upon his return that the child on my hip is his progeny. I wonder if I will have to go through this alone.
