Sacred Honeymoon - 3
Mages, priests, physicians. Occupations so fiercely distinct in character that common ground is hard to find—yet they share one peculiar intersection: they are the first to grasp a couple’s and a household’s joyous news, and the first to certify it.
I, too, as one who walks the path of magic, can tell at once whether a woman is with child, and sensing First Snow growing in Mar’s arms has become one of the quiet joys of my day. Yet mages who so swiftly discern another’s pregnancy cannot easily grasp their own.
It is a contradiction, but an inevitable one. Mages who live every day in the feel of mana grow dull to new mana arising inside their own bodies. Are we not the sort who strive each day to swell our mana and commune with the mana of the natural world? When something new stirs within, we too often shrug it off with a thought like, Yesterday’s meditation must have gone well.
I thought the same, at first.
But when that new mana grows larger and larger, one can no longer miss the anomaly. A new life has taken root in one’s body. The new mana is not one’s own—it is the mana cradled by a new life.
The moment the possibility dawned that I might be carrying a child, I nearly wept. My parents had spent years trying to have me, and I had braced myself to spend a comparable span of time. And yet a child already? A gift without equal, bestowed by the gods in heaven and by my parents.
Even so, I kept silent about that joyous possibility—even from Karl. I held my tongue so that when I, a mage, could declare the pregnancy certain, I could summon a priest and a physician for cross-verification. If I called them earlier and it proved my mistake, how disappointed would Karl be?
…The truth was, I was afraid. A child was surely a joy, yet for a half-elf to conceive so quickly was, objectively, near impossible—about as likely as me, called the Magic Lord, misreading mana.
So I closed my mouth. Afraid I would rejoice too hastily, only to learn it was not so and come undone. Afraid that Karl, leaping with joy, would then have to comfort me without even letting his own disappointment show.
“Five have entered, but only two are visible.”
Then, from a place I never expected, I heard words I simply could not let pass.
From a former archbishop, no less—words that seemed to confirm what I had been thinking.
“Just now—what you just said. Could you explain it more carefully?”
After that, my body moved faster than my head. I was seated before the archbishop in an instant, silver coins spilling from my pocket as I grabbed whatever came to hand.
…Five?
But five? What did that mean?
Could the child inside me… not be only one?
Trixie listened to the former archbishop’s life lectu—no, his advice—with the look of someone under a spell.
“Mages can only make a judgment once the child in the womb has grown to a certain point, but priests are a little different. A select few among us, like myself, can instinctively sense that the gods have sent a new life down to the earth.”
“Instinctively…”
“Of course, it isn’t only by instinct. Priests have their own methods of determination as well—but that trivial detail is surely not what Your Grace needs to hear right now.”
At those words, Trixie nodded over and over, as if she had not the slightest interest in the priests’ mechanisms.
A little bewildering. Was this not Trixie, whose curiosity for the unknown and hunger for inquiry ran so high? Ordinarily she would have peppered him with meticulous questions about how priests exercised their power.
But what was even more bewildering was this:
“Congratulations. Three graces have taken root in Your Grace’s womb.”
Trixie was pregnant.
With triplets, no less.
Is this a dream?
The thought crossed my mind, that was how unreal it felt. The joy of a child was incomparable to anything in this world—yet Trixie was half human and half elf. Her species makeup differed, regrettably, from that of pure humans.
So I, Trixie, and the retainers of House Catoban had all assumed it would be several years before we saw a young duke. And yet, less than a year into the marriage, a child? And not one, but three?
The flood of information left my head spinning. Who was the fraud who claimed children were hard to come by between humans and elves? Honeymoon triplets—rare even among humans—had just appeared.
“Um, Elder.”
“What is it?”
Setting the confusion aside, I carefully opened my mouth. The archbishop, back in his busybody-advisor persona, answered gruffly.
“If what you say is true, nothing could bring greater joy—but it is all so sudden. Is Trixie truly pregnant with triplets?”
“If you cannot trust me, then trust Her Grace.”
“Pardon?”
What kind of talk was that? When it came to a child, you trusted an obstetrician—not the pregnant woman.
“Her Grace already suspected she was pregnant. She simply does not seem to have realized there were three.”
But at his next words I turned my gaze to Trixie.
Come to think of it, of course. There was no way Trixie the mage would not have known she was carrying a child.
“The bewilderment you feel now is the emotion Her Grace felt first. So do not take it amiss that she kept it secret until now.”
Ah.
It was only a short sentence, but I thought I understood how Trixie felt. I would have kept silent at first, too.
“Thank you for the advice, Elder.”
“You never miss your manners. No one will ever call you rude, wherever you go.”
I gave a slight bow to the smirking archbishop, then carefully gathered into my arms the still-dazed Trixie.
“Ah, Karl…”
“Let’s head back. You’re not only one person anymore—you need to be careful.”
At those blunt words, Trixie’s face flushed scarlet.
“I never expected to hear such wonderful news upon coming to the Holy Land. Thank you.”
“Th-thank me? I didn’t do this alone, you know.”
With an awkward smile and a fidgety air, Trixie stroked her belly, still looking rather dazed.
For now, awkwardness would outweigh joy. However much she had suspected, it had only ever been a what-if—and mere minutes ago the two of us had simply been enjoying a quiet honeymoon. For a pregnancy to be certified mid-honeymoon and feel completely unfazed would have been the stranger thing.
Three of them.
I was already tangled in complicated emotions myself, so for Trixie it would only be more—never less.
No matter how many times I turned it over, it was astonishing. How had not one, but triplets, come down to us?
A gift from the gods, maybe?
One from Enen, one from Eternal Blue Sky, one from Constantina. A bit of a stretch, but it was exactly three.
The provisional names are settled, then.
Anyway, if I thought of them as gifts from the gods, the names chose themselves. Sunny, Skye, and Verdant would fit perfectly.
Fortunately, among the deities connected to me there was no god of war or god of death.
As the years piled on, my stiffening body and my spirit worn thin by fatigue had begun to feel healthier by the day.
No—not merely a feeling. The truth of it. With a consort now standing at the side of the Duchess of Catoban, the stability of the house had grown thick and sure, and so, as majordomo of Catoban, I could lay down every care and find peace.
Clear skies.
Looking up at the heavens as I sipped my tea, a smile rose of its own accord. Even the sky seemed to celebrate my joy—cloudless and pure.
What a splendid sky. Had the heavens always been such a beautiful, noble thing?
To feel so at ease simply because a single flaw has vanished…
And who would have thought that sole flaw would only vanish after a hundred years?
Of course, Her Grace the Duchess had only just married; seeing a child would take several years yet. Strictly speaking, the succession of House Catoban was still unstable.
But what of it? His Grace the Consort was barely past twenty, and Her Grace the Duchess would live longer than him if anything—never shorter. The future duke who would lead House Catoban was certain to be born.
And so I could smile. The Empire’s foremost magic house, first among the founding heroes of the Empire—the bloodline of the Snow Sword Duke would continue on—
Hmm?
The communication orb I had set beside the teapot began to glow.
“This is Count Sicilia.”
The call interrupted my peaceful teatime, but I was not displeased. My spirits were so high that nothing could ruffle my composure.
“It is I.”
And if the one calling was Her Grace the Duchess herself, it was cause for gladness rather than otherwise.
Yet it was a little puzzling. Had Her Grace not departed on a journey to the Holy Kingdom? To spare me a moment of that precious time—had something momentous occurred?
“Forgive me for contacting you so suddenly. There is something I simply must tell you.”
“It is quite all right, Your Grace. To obey Your Grace’s commands is both my duty and my honor.”
I answered with a bow toward Her Grace, who smiled gently.
Even if it were something momentous, it did not matter. For a retainer serving House Catoban, dedicating oneself to Her Grace was the glory of the house. Even if she issued orders in the dead of night, it would be right to carry them out gladly.
“Heh heh, is that so?”
My answer must have shown that resolve, for Her Grace’s smile deepened.
“Then please pass this on to the other children as well. The truth is—”
The retainers of the ducal house hastily gathered in the conference room.
“Ten months—no, they may be born earlier, so from the seventh month onward we must clear every schedule!”
“For starters, what about commemorative alms for the poor of the duchy?”
“Isn’t that something you do after they’re born?”
“I don’t know. It’s been over a hundred years since anyone was born into House Catoban.”
And of course the atmosphere in the conference room was heated.
“We must prepare rooms for the young lords first! There are three of them—three! They may share a room while small, but once they turn five they’ll want rooms of their own!”
At that booming cry, some of the retainers even shed tears.
Truth be told, so did I. To think Her Grace the Duchess would carry not one but three young lords.
“However.”
As plans were being laid for rooms, clothes, toys, and all the rest for the young lords, the chamberlain spoke up.
“Who will serve as wet nurses?”
A silence like a lie settled over the conference room.