I had no memory of any book.
I looked down. The gown’s embroidery had changed. Where before there had been a single star over my womb, now there were two. And they were pulsing faintly, in time with a flutter I felt deep inside.
The whisper came again, closer this time, warm breath against my ear even though no one stood behind me.
Or when.
“Don’t panic,” I told my reflection. The woman in the mirror smiled back a beat too late. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, dreamy, utterly at peace. That wasn’t me. I don’t smile.
I pressed a palm to my lower belly. The silk was taut there. When had that happened? I was lean. Athletic. I’d done a full ab workout the morning of the party. But now there was a firm, round swell beneath my hand, as undeniable as a moon rising.
But my hand—the one not pressed to my belly—was smudged with dried ink. Indigo. The same color as the constellations on my gown. Masquerade Hypnosis -Before I knew it- I-m Preg...
The last thing I remember before the door opened was the whisper’s final gift: a single memory surfacing from the trance. Myself, kneeling on a floor of rose petals and pocket watches, lifting a silver chalice to my lips, and whispering, “I consent. I consent. I consent.”
The silk was deep midnight blue, embroidered with constellations that seemed to shift when I blinked. My mask was a delicate thing of silver lace and tiny, faceted obsidians that caught the candlelight of the masquerade hall behind me. I didn’t recall putting it on, either. In fact, the last clear memory I had was standing in the coat-check line, holding a champagne flute I hadn’t been old enough to drink from.
Before I could scream, the spiral in my eyes turned once more. My knees went soft. My fear dissolved like sugar in warm milk. The woman in the mirror finally smiled with my face—not delayed, not dreamy, but truly mine. I had no memory of any book
A knock at the door. Three slow, rhythmic taps. Then a voice, low and amused, with an accent I couldn’t place. “Love? The midwife is here. She says the heartbeat is strong. Both of them.”
“Coming, darling,” I heard myself say. And I meant it.
Both?
I just didn’t know to whom.
Before I knew it, I was standing in front of a cheval mirror in a gown I didn’t remember picking out.