Zaliyah stood before the full-length mirror in his chambers, his breath hitching as he adjusted his fur coat that had long since surrendered to the roundness of his stomach.
He looked at himself-really looked. The frail boy who had been cast out of the Capital was gone. In his place was someone he barely recognized. His silver hair had reached a length that was pooling around his hips .
He pressed a hand to the low swell of his belly. He felt like a planet-slow, orbiting his own gravity, and perpetually exhausted.
"Nine months," he whispered. "You've spent nine months hiding in the ice, little one. I hope you like the cold."
In the palace, Lilith sat by the tall, arched window of her private quarters, her eyes fixed on the northern horizon .
"Nine months," she murmured, her fingers tracing the glass.
