The Queen knelt on the bed beside her napping husband, who half-opened one eye and smiled sleepily.
“I have wide hips,” she said.
His surprised mind struggled with this odd remark. He murmured, “Lovely they are, too. Your ankles are enchanting, and the rest, well….”
“Ankles? What have ankles to do with it?” she demanded, slowly drawing the covers from his naked shoulders.
“Aren’t we discussing your beauty?” he asked, perplexed.
“Wake up, Estel,” she said, laughing. “I’ve talked to the midwife, and she says I can bear a Man’s child easily.”
“You mean….” he began. Her tousled hair, glowing face and rosy breasts swelling beneath a half-laced gown drove away his sleep.
“Not yet,” she said. Pulling the covers to expose his muscled chest and lean waist, she pressed her hand against his taut belly and trailed one finger down the dusting of curls. “You have work to do.”