Ezra
Allen was indeed correct. The next few weeks were indeed full of bullying, yet Allen never once complained. He took every bite, every blow and every tribulation with the patience of a saint.
We were closely observing my official due date. We'd already determined the genders of the babies. We were having two boys, and I couldn't wait to hold them.
However, on the day we expected our twins to arrive, nothing happened. Neither a single contraction nor any significant movement. Absolutely nothing. I had been worried sick, trying desperately not to overthink it because the head royal apothecary had assured us we just needed to give it a few more days, prescribing me a series of bitter herbal remedies that brought tears to my eyes. The apothecary had made it clear that if I did not go into labor within three days, they were going to admit me permanently to the royal infirmary so they could monitor the babies and my overall wellbeing.
