Lyra's POV
"Mother," Kaelen's voice cracked as he set down his wine glass with deliberate care. "That question is inappropriate."
"Inappropriate?" Rowena's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "You are husband and wife now. Bound together. Asking about future generations seems perfectly reasonable."
"It is not reasonable," Kaelen said, his tone sharp with finality. "Not at this moment."
"Then when would be more suitable?" she pressed, leaning forward with renewed interest. "Next year? The year after? I would prefer to cradle my grandchildren while I still have the strength. Before this illness claims what little time I have left."
Her words carried a lightness that barely masked their dark undertone. The reminder of her mortality hung in the air like smoke from the dying candles.
