Eva asked.
Trenton moved into the room at a quick clip as if he’d been listening at the door, his expression dark and deadly.
"Nothing," Shea said as she straightened. She shot her guard a disgruntled look that crumpled when another groan escaped her a few seconds later.
She grabbed Eva's arm in a punishing hold.
"Are you in labor?" Eva asked in surprise.
"No," Shea groaned.
"I think you are."
"I don't want to be."
"I'm pretty sure what you want, and what is are two different things," Eva said. "You're in labor. Accept it."
Shea growled at Eva, the look in her face unfriendly and petty considering the wisdom she'd spoken with earlier.
"I should have you drawn and quartered," Shea threatened.
"But you won't, because you're in labor," Eva chirped.
Trenton rolled his eyes at the two of them. "You were supposed to notify us as soon as you had your first contraction."
Eva smothered her laughter at the irritation on his face. "And Caden calls me troublesome."
"Caden doesn't have to deal with her on a regular basis," Trenton muttered.
"I needed to be part of this discussion," Shea snapped seconds before bending over on another contraction.
Eva helped her to sit, grabbing a pillow for Shea and pouring her a glass of water.
Trenton shook his head in aggravation before shooting Eva a glance. "Stay with her. I need to summon the healer."
Eva gaped at him as he sprinted from the room.
"Don't look so surprised. You've proved you're more Trateri than most," Shea said in a pained grimace. Her head fell back. "Guess I'm going to have this baby today. Lucky me."
"You were just complaining about wanting it over," Eva pointed out.
"I can have you killed, you know."
"Unlikely, when you're about to be screaming in agony for the next few hours."
Shea snorted. "You're a surprisingly good fit for him."
Eva tilted her head, the next contraction forestalling her question.
Then she was too busy helping as Chirron and Trenton entered the room at a fast run.
"You always have to be so dramatic with all this. You're worse than any warrior I know. Why can't you admit when you're in pain?" Chirron asked in a sour voice.
"Fuck you, these talks were important," Shea said through gritted teeth.
"And did you get what you wanted out of them?" Chirron asked.
The smile she shot him was fierce and a little scary. "I did, indeed."
*
"Are you sure about this?" Fallon asked his oldest friend.
Caden nodded. "It's the best option. I've thought about it, and this solves all of our problems."
Fallon sighed and leaned back. He looked tired but happier than Caden had ever seen him. Shea's labor had produced a healthy baby girl whose lungs had announced her arrival to the entire Keep. "If this is what you want, then you know you have my support, as I’ve had yours all these years."
Caden bowed his head to this man who had been friend, Warlord, ally, and sometimes his only link to sanity. Things always changed, but that didn't make the transition any easier.
“I never did thank you for seeing the potential in a lostling with no clan or family lines,” Caden started.
Fallon waved away his words. “I did nothing that didn’t benefit me. You had the drive to succeed and no one was going to stop you, not even me. If I hadn’t been smart enough to secure your loyalty, I have no doubt another would have. You never sought attention, but the right people were aware of you.”
Caden bowed his head, the praise from his friend meaning more than words could express.
“I’m glad I threw that first punch the day we met,” Fallon said. “If I hadn’t, we never would have become friends, and I likely wouldn’t be standing here today.”
Caden grunted. “I still say I won that fight.”
“Lie. We all know I was the true victor,” Darius said, striding into the room, carrying a trio of glasses and one of the whiskey bottles the pathfinders usually kept under lock and key.
Fallon snorted. “Henri had to pick you up off the floor because we knocked you out.”
“I seem to remember I wasn’t the only one who spent a week in the healer’s tents,” Darius said with a sly smile.
“Or a month digging latrine pits as penance,” Caden added.
“Henri always did like his punishments,” Fallon mused.
Darius set the glasses on the table. “He still tells that story and laughs. Says if not for that month, we likely would have walked out of the healer’s tent and gotten into another fistfight before we took five steps.”
“He’s probably right,” Caden agreed.