The months pass slowly in the Bliss mansion.
Outside, the seasons change. Summer turns to autumn.
The leaves on the trees shift from green to gold to brown, then fall to the ground in dry, rustling piles. The air grows cooler and the nights grow longer.
Inside, the household settles into a strange, fragile routine.
Fae spends most of her days in the room at the end of the hallway.
She is not allowed to wander the house freely—Maxwell's rule, unspoken but enforced by the guards who watch the stairs, but she never minds.
She has her window, her books, and her dreams and her belly as it grows.
Slowly at first, a small curve beneath her nightgown.
Then faster, rounding out into a distinct swell.
By the fifth month, there is no hiding it. Fae was certainly pregnant.
She stands be
