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The father's old face has lines worn by kindness. "Let's try again," he says, "from the beginning."
"I used a charm against falling pregnant." I say. "But I stopped."
"When, child?" he asks.
It's hard to say this, in front of Jon. I look down at the cloister floor. "Three moons ago."
"And your bleeding is overdue?"
"Yes father. A moon."
"And afterwards you tried to use a charm against an omen?" The old man's voice is low and gentle, but there's something else mixed with it.
"Yes," I say.
He frowns. "Because the child was ill-omened?"
"No, father, my child isn't. It's because… I was told that it would be hard for me to bear children."
"We," Jon says. "We were told it would be too hard. We decided not to." My husband isn't looking at me. He's looking up and away at the tiered terraces of the Inner Temple.
The father looks from me to Jon. "Who told you of this omen? A Temple father?"
"Yes father." Jon says. He unwraps our marriage tablet and passes it across. "That father took omens for us, and then he charmed Emily."
As the father reads, the lines on his face change to sadness. They smooth when he looks up at me, but his face is still easy to read. "You have the charm?" he asks.
"Yes," I say.
He takes it by its thong, and holds it up in front of his face. "Not from the Temple," he says. It's not a question.
"I'm sorry, father."
"And you have come to see me because of a ward charm? It has lit three times? You think something is wrong with the pregnancy?"
"Yes father," I say. "And because… I thought it would be different now. I prayed that, if I was blessed, then the omen would… there would be a new omen, and you can tell me what that is."
"No, child. An omen doesn't stop. It's God's warning for you. It's to help you, but it never changes. We must change because we hear God's words." He looks at my belly. "Let me see you," he says.
"What should I do?"
"Nothing," the father says. "Only let me see." He stands slowly, and hobbles away from us. He reaches up to a line of charms and pulls on it, swinging the charms around and unclipping several. "Emily, please come and stand here in the light. Pull up your tunic." He lowers himself down onto a bench in the center of his cloister, favoring his back.
I join him in the sunlight, and he lays a warm charm against my belly, touching it with his wishing finger. I see and feel nothing from it.
He shakes his head. "You are pregnant, child."
I start to cry, I don't know why. Jon doesn't come to me, and doesn't speak. I can see nothing on his glamoured face.
"Emily," the father says. "You know what's written on this tablet?"
I nod my head and let my tunic droop.
"It's most unlikely that you could bring a child into the gift," he says.
"I thought the charm--"
"No, child. Using this…" he picks up the charm and swings it slowly from side to side, "will not have changed any of that." His face is sad again. "There are no charms against omens." He moves my charm next to one on his belt, but neither light. "I doubt that this thing casts any enchantment."
"It does nothing?" Jon asks.
"It lights up when your wife touches it," the father says. "Look." He touches it and it lights. "But I made no wish, certainly not against an omen. Tell me where it's from, and I will see that the squires take action."
"But what should we do about the warding?" Jon asks. He hasn't moved a step towards me. He isn't protecting me.
"You can try to have the child," the father says, and his hand touches mine. His hand is cold. "We will do all we can. But…" he looks up above me, up at the Inner Temple, "God has warned."
"There's nothing else?" Jon asks.
"There is," the father says. "You can decide not to try."
***