Chapter 499 – Baptizing the Princess
Ella
Three weeks later – Ariel was born under a waning quarter moon, not a new moon like her brother and her cousin – I stand anxiously in the woods, my little girl held tight in my arms.
“I’m sensing some anxiety,” Cora says, grinning at me with a little too much glee as she comes up to my side, dressed in a gorgeous silver gown, Jesse awake and interested on her hip.
“I wasn’t anxious like this when Rafe went in,” I sigh, reaching out to touch Jesse’s nose with my fingertip, making him giggle. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was anxious – but it’s this one’s complicated little portent that has me all worked up.”
“I know,” Cora says, wrinkling her nose at me wickedly. “I can’t wait – the payback is real-”
“Don’t you dare,” I say, glaring at her and pointing a finger at her. “You’re trying to deliberately jinx my daughter just because your Jesse has some weird shadow magic coming his way – ”
“I would never!” Cora says, laughing and swatting my finger away. “I just like teasing you, Ella. Hear that, Ariel?” she says, leaning over to grin at her goddaughter. “I hope that your future comes out nice and safe and boring, for your mother’s sake.”
“Oh, hold your tongue,” I mutter, scowling and moving Ariel away from her aunt. “I don’t want her life to be boring, I just want…” I sigh, looking down at the little girl who has my whole heart. “I just want it all to be very good, and for her to be safe…but also to have some adventures along the way.”
“A big ask,” Sinclair says, ambling over to my side with a glass of champagne in one hand, Rafe perched on his hip. “Especially for a little girl named Baby Trouble.”
I grin when I hear the nickname, considering that…well, it’s a little bit true, even if the name so far has been a bit of a joke.
Honestly, we’ve called her Ariel very little she’s.baby trouble, most of the time. Or Princess Trouble. Or Princess Baby Bubble Trouble. Or whatever combination thereof inspires us at the moment. And, well, she hasn’t really lived up to it – not yet. Rafe – he was a tough newborn, at least for the first two weeks. But Ariel?
God, she’s been a little bit of a dream.
I can only hope that her nickname continues to be ironic for the rest of her days, but I know that’s too much to hope for.
Rafe eagerly leans forward from his father’s hip, reaching for his sister, spitting out an excited series of syllables that all start with “ba!”
“You like your sister, little guy?” Cora says, laughing and putting a hand on Rafe’s chest to keep him from excitedly spilling out of his father’s arms.
“We think he’s trying to say baby,” I say, grinning at my boy, pleasure and pride filling me from head to toe. I mean – I know every mom is proud of her children. But Rafe – he really is such a sweet baby and a clever boy, always wanting to be close to me, close to Ariel.
And his dad too, of course but Rafe and me? We’ve really got a special bond.
“All right,” Roger says, his own baby on his arm and glass of champagne in his hand, just like his brother. “Almost time! Are we ready to do this?”
“Don’t talk about it like a sports match, Roger,” I say, raising my chin at him jokingly. “It’s a sacred ritual. Please act with the gravity it deserves.”
“It’s our third one, Ella,” Roger says, playfully rolling his eyes at me. “It’s getting old – ”
“You’re fated to be the father of like six kids, Roger,” I say, rolling my eyes at him right back. “Tell me that when we get to your sixth baptism – ”
“At that point we’re just going to wander into the back yard in our pajamas,” he murmurs, nodding first towards the baby in my arms and then to Cora, silently indicating that I should hand her over. “We’re going to drink beer and hold the baby out to the moon on a dish towel, use a plastic baby pool instead of the sacred pond -”
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