"No," Salviana teased, "I mean you've grown radiant. And your belly—" she glanced down at the small swell, her fingers brushing it reverently, "—is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. How far along are you now?"
"Seven months," Florence said, wiping her tears with a smile. "The physicians say the baby is strong, though I swear if it kicks me any harder, I'll march into the throne room and beg the gods to let me deliver early."
Salviana giggled, leaning against her shoulder. "You're going to be a wonderful mother, Flo. Truly."
Florence sighed, her eyes softening as she looked at Salviana. "And you're going to be… I don't even know the word for it. I watched you once, Salviana—you were as kind as possible even when the court whispered about you, when they judged you for marrying Alaric. But now… you're sitting here like you belong, and you know they can't take more from you. like no one can take that from you."
