Page 27 of Ulune's Daughter

And she’s always opened her homes to her friends.

I’ve arrived during bath time for the twins, so Gabe leads me through to the nursery wing which is a little more brightly painted and decorated than the rest of the Palace. The nursery’s bath only has three walls. The fourth wall dissolves into Faery. Mossy trees studded with blue and purple gemstone mushrooms are slowly encroaching into the bathroom, their roots disrupting the tiled floor. Golden sunlight filters into the room through their leaves. A massive oak wraps around the wide, shallow baby bath in the middle of the room. Water trickles down its gnarled bark to fill the tub. A flight of will-o-wisps circle lazily over the pooling water.

Despite all the magic, the air is filled with screams. “Nooo, no, no, no!”

Teddy, her pale skin mottled red with irritation, tries to placate her howling daughter. “Gal-bee, you liked the bath yesterday.”

“No! No! No, Mummy, no baff! No!”

“Gal, Honour wants to get into the bath. Look!” I carry her twin over to the water and hold him above it while Gabe deftly strips off the baby’s green onesie.

Gal sniffles and pushes out of her mother’s arms. After giving me a hairy eyeball, Gal toddles toward the tub.

Teddy rubs a hand over her face and mouths, “Thank you.”

I wink at her before I lower Honour into the bath.

He immediately pees like a little fountain, soaking my forearm.

“Mother’s sake,” Teddy groans. “Sorry, Kells.”

“Just baby water,” I say, unconcerned. I’ve hadmuchworse on my arm. “It’ll wash off.”

Gabe immediately holds his hands over my dripping sleeve and the wetness disappears in a puff of vapor.

“Thanks, cupcake.” I blow an Air-kiss at him. He blushes: pink rising to stain his slanting cheekbones. I’ve called Teddy’s husband “cupcake” since a conversation between me, Rachel, and Teddy one night after many tequila shots where we tried to explain the concept of a “cinnamon roll” to Teddy. She maintained that all her husbands were “sweet buns” inside, even if Charlie comes across as tough and Darwin’s a cold fish. Charlie and Darwin don’t let me see their inner “sweet bun” but Gabe wears his proudly. He's one of the few men I’ve met who doesn’t hide what he’s feeling; he’s head-over-heels in love with his wife, his co-husbands, and their babies, and he never hesitates to show it. I admire that in a man.

Once Galant is settled in the bath with her brother, and after getting a sniff of myself, I strip down to my underwear and climb in with them. The bath obligingly develops a deep end for me to sit in, so I’m up to my chest in warm water and bubbles while the twins splash around in the shallow end with their flotilla of bath toys.

Teddy stays with me in the bathroom while Gabe takes advantage of my appearance to get something other than parenting done for an hour. She sits heavily on a stool in the shape of a mushroom—well, I think it’s a stool, it could very well be an oversized fae mushroom in here—and rubs her round belly.

“How’re you feeling, mama?” I ask her.

“Poorly,” she admits. “I thought any baby of Gabe’s would be sweet like him, but this spawn is trying to kill me on the way out. I can’t keep food down and yet I’m retaining water like a fecking whale. I’m sore everywhere. My eyelashes were sore this morning. How can my eyelashes be sore? And on top of it, Gal’s terrible twos seem to have started six months early.”

I reach my hand out of the water. She squeezes it.

“Sorry to whinge,” she says.

“Whinge all you want. It’s the prerogative of pregnant women. My sister had morning sickness all through her first pregnancy. Ginger ale and saltines really helped.”

She nods. “That’s what I gave Darwin for upset stomach when he suffered from insomnia. He told me he didn’t like saltines. I’ve come to understand why not.”

“Goldfish crackers? Chex mix?”

Teddy snorts. “I don’t even know what those are.”

“You haven’t been introduced to the wonder of Goldfish crackers or Chex mix?” I gasp in mock horror. “What have those boys been teaching you?”

“They introduced me to Fig Newtons but I can’t even keep those down.”

“Chex mix will do the trick, I bet. I’ll bring a vat with me when I come back for dinner over the weekend.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Teddy sighs. “You don’t want to stay a few days?”

“Can’t. Take a look at what’s in my bag.”

Releasing my hand to wrap her arm around her belly for support, Teddy bends over and rustles through my discarded gear until she finds my bag, and the silver cup stowed inside. She holds it up.

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