[ The maester's say — no, doctors; they are doctors — that the odds lie in Alayne's favor even if her body proves poor in the delivery. There are methods and means, or so they claim; there are medicines that ease pain, that loosen muscle, that provide verve. Alayne's in good hands, they reassure Petyr and even though she will survive the labor in the end, the road there will be long and difficult for her and the birth will be breeched and bloody. Still his happiness gives her an unearthly strength. ]

Gods forbid, [ she laughs wearily, her hand drifting from his temples to touch that trembling smile. ] Were we mad we'd be unfit and this babe— [ Alayne still his hands upon her belly, covering it with his own. ] —our babe, deserves only the greatest of welcomes. Together, we shall see that they know only love.