necessity.
Condor’s inaction was odder to her.
After Brocke had gone after the priest, there had been complete silence in terms of murders. Sure, bad things kept happening, and Cora had even received news of a dead half-breed, but he had been in a very simple conflict with another warrior. Nothing to do with Condor’s execution-style deaths.
Half-breeds still went missing, though, and that was definitely bad news. It told her Condor was preparing for something big. Cora hoped Brocke would get to him in time.
Luckily, Ashby's lab wasn't far from the Militant's building. Cora had found herself going over there more and more after work, looking for company, but Ashby didn't seem to mind. Cora watched the priestess work, trying to get used to the sheer measure of things the Corgan priests were able to do.
"Hey," Cora called, seeing Ashby standing by a long table with all kinds of machines surrounding it.
She couldn't name one of them, although by the looks of it Cora would have made a few educated guesses. Ultimately, she was fine with leaving the medical issues in the hands of the priestess while she focused on the detective work.
"Evening," Ashby said, motioning at the desk. "Pop up here, will you? I want to check something."
Cora glared at her playfully.
"Funny," she said. "We've talked about this. I won't let you play mix-match with my organs."
"Nice, very clever," Ashby shot back, grinning. "It's funny because I cut people up and do whatever I want. That's exactly how it works. Please, you're better than that. Now stop being stubborn and come here. I won't even touch you, I swear."
Shrugging her coat off and sighing, Cora walked up to the table.
"So what is it?" she asked, jumping to sit on it.
"Lay down," Ashby instructed. "We will know if I was right very soon."
"Right about what?" Cora asked as the machinery around her charged up.
She had expected some huge clatter, but the room remained silent except for a really nice, lullaby-like buzzing of the apparatus.
"Hush," Ashby chuckled. "Let me see here. I know you Terrans wait so long with it, but these Palian machines are truly amazing and I have the instincts of a priestess. You can't hide anything from me. So who's the lucky guy?"
Realization struck like lightning.
You have got to kidding me. This can't be happening , Cora's inner voice argued, but that wasn't her first reaction.
Before any words, any conscious thoughts, a joy like no other had filled Cora with indescribable warmth and love.
"There it is," Ashby said cheerfully while Cora was still trying to hold her sanity intact. "You can't tell, of course, but the readings don't lie. Congratulations! Is that warrior I saw in your rooms the father?"
Brocke. What will he say?
"Yeah," Cora managed weakly, noticing a light flare up in Ashby's eyes.
"Lucky girl," the priestess said, smiling. "The chieftain's son. Quite a catch."
"Yeah."
I'm pregnant. This is unreal.
"I'm not being helpful right now, am I?" Ashby asked with surprising tact, helping Cora off the table.
Usually Corgan priestesses were much more straight-forward about matters like that, but Cora really appreciated Ashby's sensitivity at that moment as the woman went to get her a drink. Not the mead this time, of course.
Cora's mind was spinning, trying to hold all her emotions inside. There was surprise and anxiousness and a healthy amount of fear, but overall she couldn't shake the feeling of absolute happiness. She didn't know what Brocke would say if he heard about her pregnancy, but for the first time in a long while, Cora saw a future ahead of her.
Not just a row of days to come, but an actual life, with Brocke and their child.
She knew she was supposed to be shocked and worried and taken aback. And a part of her certainly was. But it was all overshadowed by the happiness. She’d always wanted a family. One way or another, it was hers now.
And if he doesn’t want a child?
The thought was sharp and painful, but Cora took a
Condor’s inaction was odder to her.
After Brocke had gone after the priest, there had been complete silence in terms of murders. Sure, bad things kept happening, and Cora had even received news of a dead half-breed, but he had been in a very simple conflict with another warrior. Nothing to do with Condor’s execution-style deaths.
Half-breeds still went missing, though, and that was definitely bad news. It told her Condor was preparing for something big. Cora hoped Brocke would get to him in time.
Luckily, Ashby's lab wasn't far from the Militant's building. Cora had found herself going over there more and more after work, looking for company, but Ashby didn't seem to mind. Cora watched the priestess work, trying to get used to the sheer measure of things the Corgan priests were able to do.
"Hey," Cora called, seeing Ashby standing by a long table with all kinds of machines surrounding it.
She couldn't name one of them, although by the looks of it Cora would have made a few educated guesses. Ultimately, she was fine with leaving the medical issues in the hands of the priestess while she focused on the detective work.
"Evening," Ashby said, motioning at the desk. "Pop up here, will you? I want to check something."
Cora glared at her playfully.
"Funny," she said. "We've talked about this. I won't let you play mix-match with my organs."
"Nice, very clever," Ashby shot back, grinning. "It's funny because I cut people up and do whatever I want. That's exactly how it works. Please, you're better than that. Now stop being stubborn and come here. I won't even touch you, I swear."
Shrugging her coat off and sighing, Cora walked up to the table.
"So what is it?" she asked, jumping to sit on it.
"Lay down," Ashby instructed. "We will know if I was right very soon."
"Right about what?" Cora asked as the machinery around her charged up.
She had expected some huge clatter, but the room remained silent except for a really nice, lullaby-like buzzing of the apparatus.
"Hush," Ashby chuckled. "Let me see here. I know you Terrans wait so long with it, but these Palian machines are truly amazing and I have the instincts of a priestess. You can't hide anything from me. So who's the lucky guy?"
Realization struck like lightning.
You have got to kidding me. This can't be happening , Cora's inner voice argued, but that wasn't her first reaction.
Before any words, any conscious thoughts, a joy like no other had filled Cora with indescribable warmth and love.
"There it is," Ashby said cheerfully while Cora was still trying to hold her sanity intact. "You can't tell, of course, but the readings don't lie. Congratulations! Is that warrior I saw in your rooms the father?"
Brocke. What will he say?
"Yeah," Cora managed weakly, noticing a light flare up in Ashby's eyes.
"Lucky girl," the priestess said, smiling. "The chieftain's son. Quite a catch."
"Yeah."
I'm pregnant. This is unreal.
"I'm not being helpful right now, am I?" Ashby asked with surprising tact, helping Cora off the table.
Usually Corgan priestesses were much more straight-forward about matters like that, but Cora really appreciated Ashby's sensitivity at that moment as the woman went to get her a drink. Not the mead this time, of course.
Cora's mind was spinning, trying to hold all her emotions inside. There was surprise and anxiousness and a healthy amount of fear, but overall she couldn't shake the feeling of absolute happiness. She didn't know what Brocke would say if he heard about her pregnancy, but for the first time in a long while, Cora saw a future ahead of her.
Not just a row of days to come, but an actual life, with Brocke and their child.
She knew she was supposed to be shocked and worried and taken aback. And a part of her certainly was. But it was all overshadowed by the happiness. She’d always wanted a family. One way or another, it was hers now.
And if he doesn’t want a child?
The thought was sharp and painful, but Cora took a
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