Gabriel

 “What I’d like to know, is how they found out,” Mama declared at the breakfast table, spearing a sausage with a frightening level of intensity.

“I think we’d all like to know that,” Noah replied, spooning oatmeal into his bowl.

I was covertly monitoring everything he ate now, ever since Dr. Sinclair had said he needed to watch his vitamin intake.

Sometimes his appetite was low, and I would frantically ask the chefs to make anything and everything that might tempt him into eating even a little. Gusteau, our head chef, had patiently endured my standing in the kitchen—which I’d never in my life entered before that day—and listing all the things Noah might possibly want to eat, that I needed ready to eat in two hours.

Initially, the maids and servers were petrified, thinking I’d come to criticize their service or accuse them of treason. Once they figured out why I was there, they rose magnificently to the task.

I had experimented with several traditional Merovian recipes, hoping they wouldn’t be repulsive to Noah, who was a picky eater at the best of times.

He had flatly refused bison liver and haunch—in fact, any part of the bison, which I didn’t understand.

“They’re too cute,” he explained, shuddering at the plate of meat, still oozing blood, which Gusteau had assured me was very beneficial for a pregnant person.

With difficulty, I got him to drink a glass filled with egg yolks every morning—which he did on the condition that I would drink one glass as well.

“Sometimes you have to suffer for the greater good,” he informed me, eyes dancing with mischief.

I would have done far more unpleasant things for our unborn baby, so I agreed.

I had the maids order only full fat milk from the grocer’s, instead of the skim milk we usually drank, and quickly saw results as Noah’s chest became heavy looking after a few weeks. This had other benefits as well, since I found the sight of his swollen, red-tipped tits incredibly sexy.

I was almost obsessive about tracking his supplement intake. I had an app where I recorded every tablet he took as well as a goal chart for his vitamin levels.

Today, luckily, he seemed to have an appetite, albeit an unpredictable one. He hadn’t even thrown up in the morning, making me hope that the morning sickness phase was done with.

“These things happen, Mama,” I said, “There’s no use worrying. People talk to the press, and short of replacing our staff entirely I’m not sure there’s any way of stopping rumors from flying.”

“I don’t like it,” Mama said darkly. “I feel as though the rumors have gotten more hostile, lately. Even though you and Noah have made your announcement, and you’d think that’s all they’d be talking about, they’ve found other things to focus on.”

“It’s not a whole conspiracy, Mama,” I said dismissively, “The royal family goes through phases of popularity. Once we give them a pink-cheeked little royal heir, they’ll be eating out of our hands again.”

When Noah was looking away, I hurriedly added some dried apricots into his porridge—I’d read the previous night that they were good to eat during pregnancy.

“Hm,” Mama said, unconvinced. “Well, I suppose you two have got other things to worry about. I’ll look into things on my own.”

“Very well,” I said, and soon forgot about that conversation.

Noah and I went into the garden to laze around after breakfast, as it had become our usual habit.

I had my head in Noah’s lap, and was telling him stories from my scandalous playboy years, because they made him laughed, and I liked to see him laugh.

“I don’t believe that!” he said, after one particularly lurid story about how I’d been photographed, butt naked with my ass hanging out of a window during my college years.

“Unfortunately true,” I said. “It’s all part of the illustrious history I’ll hand down to our son.”

“What do you want our baby to get, from your side of the family?” Noah asked curiously.

I had to think about it. I hadn’t considered it before, because I’d just assumed that the baby would come and he would grow up to be his own person. I hadn’t seen it from the perspective that he was going to be a mixture of my family’s traits and Noah’s.

“Well,” I said slowly, “I definitely don’t want him to get my impulsiveness and temper. I didn’t get Mama’s brain, so it would be nice if our baby had it. Or yours, I suppose, since you’re so clever. I don’t think my looks would be a bad thing,” I mused, ignoring Noah’s amused snort. “And my father’s ears. They’re famous, the easiest way to tell if someone’s from our family.”

“That’s interesting,” Noah said slowly.

“Why? What would you like the baby to have from your family?” I asked curiously. Noah so rarely talked about his family, I wanted to soak up his words like a greedy sponge and hoard them, just like I hoarded every other scrap of knowledge I had about him.

“To be honest, I hope he has your Mama’s brain too, because she scares me,” he chuckled. “But I think it would be nice if he had my sister’s eyes. They were brown, you know? Like a dark, chocolatey brown, and so kind. I still remember the way she would smile at you with her eyes…” his voice faded.

“Anything else?” I prompted gently.

“You know I don’t remember a whole lot about my parents,” Noah sighed. “I wish I did, but they died when I was ten, and my memories are mostly of the police officer who came to my aunt’s house that night to let us know about their car accident. And then their funeral, obviously. But…I think my sister was a lot like my mom, they were both kind and funny. And I think my dad was really smart, he was a professor of mathematics in a university, and they both organized a fundraiser every year for kids with cancer. I have a photo of them from one of those fundraisers. That’s the most significant thing I remember about them. So I guess I’d like our baby to care about other people, and the world and just…not live for himself.”

“That’s…a really good one,” I said after a moment, throat tight.

I got up and curled around Noah for comfort, like a big, devoted dog, and he held on to me urgently like he thought I would fly away.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, “Me and the baby are never going anywhere without you.”

“I know,” he said, eyes shining, “I know.”

“Man, you must thing I’m such a waste of air,” I said, once Noah had composed himself.

“What d’you mean?” he asked, looking confused.

“I mean, my whole life has kind of been a joke so far. I’m mainly known for being inappropriately naked and having sex with famous people. What kind of role model am I going to be for our baby?” I asked, suddenly terrified.

I wasn’t used to self-doubt, or insecurity, but now those feelings were crashing over me like waves.

“I just don’t think of you that way,” Noah said, shrugging. “You’re the man who forces me to eat my vitamins and gives me mints when I throw up in the mornings, and tells me every day what size fruit our baby is like now. I know you’re going to be a great dad.”

“I’m not going to be a tough dad,” I said glumly, “I’m going to love him too much to discipline him. You’re going to have to do all of that.”

“There’s no way I’m going to be the villain parent,” Noah declared. “I know how it goes, one parent gets to be cool and the other is the boring strict one. I’m not doing it.”

“Well, maybe you could teach me how to not be a pushover. And then we could take turns.”

“All right. He can hate us both equally when we stop him from getting a horrible tattoo.”

“It’s so weird that I never got a horrible tattoo,” I mused, “That’s practically the only stupid thing I never managed to do as a teenager.”

“You turned out all right,” Noah said, kissing my cheek.

I wasn’t seeing as much of Lucas as I normally did, and if I hadn’t been too busy worrying about becoming a dad I might have interrogated him about it.

But whenever I did see him, he never lost a chance to tease me about how domesticated I’d become.

“I’m surprised to see you here without Noah, Gabe,” he said, raising an eyebrow when he came into the library and found me there. “And here of all places? You haven’t set foot in this place since that tutor of yours locked you in here accidentally for a whole night.”

“He said he wanted a peaceful afternoon without me fussing over him,” I admitted sheepishly.

“I don’t blame the guy, you’re worse than your Mama now,” he said, shuddering. “It’s sweet to see you two together, though. You both look like an ad for some dating site—all perfect and well-groomed and good looking.”

“Thanks?” I said, unsure of whether he was paying us a compliment.

“Yeah. Has Noah started showing yet? I think that’s what all the tabloids are talking about now—‘bump watch’, they’re calling it.”

“Don’t remind me,” I groaned, “Zara’s dressing him in puffy coats so nobody can get a glimpse. But yeah, he’s showing a little now,” I said, feeling the usual mix of giddy pride and excitement that filled me every time I thought about our baby.

“That’s great to hear,” he said warmly. “Oh, and one of the maids collared me in the laundry the other day and politely asked me to ask you two not to have depraved sex in every public place in the palace that has a flat surface. Was she exaggerating? I’ve never known the palace maids to be prudes, especially with you growing up here…”

“They might not be entirely exaggerating,” I said shamelessly, enjoying the look of discomfort on Lucas’s face as he no doubt imagined Noah and I getting up to the dirty in every corner of the palace. “But Noah’s insatiable now, and you know me. Never one to say no.”

“Ah, young love,” he said, pretending to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. “Are you going to name a godfather for the kid?”

“Yeah, we were thinking Uncle Nicholas, actually,” I said. “I’ve been meaning to ask him, but he’s never around any more.”

“Tell me about it. I’m starting to wonder if I made him up inside my head,” Lucas said moodily.

He turned his head toward the windows and I noticed the darkness that pooled under his eyes, and the tightness around his mouth.

“Luca,” I said, hesitating, “Is there something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine, Gabe,” he said, standing up. He made his way to the door, gripping my shoulder for a moment before he left.

It took me a moment to realize he hadn’t taken a book with him.