Chapter LXI

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Eltham PalaceApril 1480

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Eltham Palace
April 1480

Charlotte doesn't understand why, having lived in England her whole life, she finds it difficult to sleep through a thunderstorm.

The current storm's been going strong for three days, keeping everyone locked inside. The rain batters at the windows, the winds clashing against the gates. The noise is deafening.

Charlotte lies awake in the bed, staring at the ceiling of their room. Edward snores beside her, sprawled on his stomach, one hand tucked under his face and the other stretched out and touching her hip. It's all she can do not to kick him awake so he can suffer with her. Her hands rest on her swollen stomach, the babe inside kicking and flipping away. She's only two weeks away from the birth of this babe, according to Mistress Granger's estimate, and Charlotte can't wait. She hasn't been able to sleep since she grew large enough for her stomach to obscure her view of her feet.

A spectacularly loud clap of thunder shakes the room and even Edward, who can sleep through anything, startles awake.

"Wha—?" his eyes are bleary and he blinks, looking around lazily.

"Thunder," Charlotte sighs, frustrated. "Go back to sleep," she murmurs bitterly.

Edward's hand inches its way higher to rest against the side of her stomach. The baby kicks or punches his hand and he smiles. "Has he been up all night?"

"Yes!" Charlotte snaps, tired. "This one is a night owl."

She rolls onto her side as best she can, facing him. There's a crease on his cheek from the pillow and his hair is disheveled. Charlotte bites her lip against the smile that threatens — her husband is the most stupidly gorgeous man in all the Isles. Despite her current state, a rush of desire fills her.

"I'm sorry, mon coeur," he murmurs, more awake now as he inches closer to her on the bed. His hand rubs circles against her stretched-out stomach, and that seems to soothe the babe. Charlotte's eyes flutter open and shut, the rhythmic rubbing lulling her to sleep.

Until another clap of thunder startles her again.

She growls, pinching Edward's arm in the next instant when she notices him smothering a laugh. "You actually think this is funny? I'm suffering, carrying your giant babe...I can't even get a good night's sleep and you're laughing!"

"I'm sorry, mon coeur," he laughs, fingers dancing gently over her stomach. "It's amusing that the one thing you can't ignore is the thunder."

"Well, how do you ignore it, then?" Charlotte demands.

Edward shrugs awkwardly. "Couldn't tell you. Just do. Helps that I'm usually exhausted from the day."

"Useless," Charlotte mutters. She winces as the babe kicks at her ribs. "This one's going to be difficult, I can tell," she sighs. Edward resumes rubbing circles over her stomach.

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