Cristine sat across from the doctor in the quiet of Andrei’s study, her fingers tapping nervously against the arm of her chair. Andrei was seated beside her, his usual cool, composed expression set as he listened intently. She was still adjusting to this unusual intimacy of shared consultations and private discussions in this grand estate, where every conversation about conception was delicately personal yet entirely procedural. The doctor had arrived at Andrei’s invitation, a gesture he’d made to try to make the process easier and clear up any lingering doubts they both might have had.
After a moment of rifling through her notes, the doctor finally set her papers aside and looked at the two of them with a calm smile.
“Well, I’m happy to report that both of you are in excellent health,”
