[Rynthall Estate—Lucien's Chamber | Afternoon Light]
Lucien lay slumped sideways on a mountain of silk pillows like a fallen nobleman who had just survived a war… against his own uterus.
One hand held a half-eaten cookie.
The other hand pressed wearily to the side of his stomach, where Wobblebean had apparently just completed his eighteenth consecutive somersault. His robe had slipped slightly off one shoulder, his hair was a mess, his eyeliner was smudged, and his dignity was leaking through the floorboards.
"I swear to the stars… If this child does one more backflip—I will evict him myself."
He lifted a cookie with all the dignity of a battle-worn monarch, took a slow, solemn bite, chewed like a man surviving a siege, and then let out another long-suffering sigh.
And then—
Silence.
Stillness.
Lucien paused.
Frowned.
Looked down at his belly suspiciously.
"…Wobblebean?"
No kicks.
No somersaults.
No pirouettes of fetal vengeance.
Just… quiet.
