Fall in love in a weekwe get by

From the beach we were transported through a portal to the embankment – when the sun had almost set.

“We urgently need dinner, or breakfast, it depends,” said Dougal. “Otherwise we’ll definitely die prematurely.”

The tiny cafe was full of people under frivolous striped umbrellas. But this did not interfere with anything. I sipped a poisonous green cocktail through a straw, ate thick pink shrimp in a white, sweet and sour sauce and seriously thought that this was the best day of my life. Even despite sad thoughts and melancholy ready to set in at any moment.

A light wind came from the ocean, tickled my bare hands, ruffled the ribbons on my hat, but it was warm and pleasant. No comparison with the piercing, prickly winds of England. And yet, for some incomprehensible, unthinkable reason, I remembered the park where we walked yesterday. And garden. And Borbourg with its plums, peaches, pounds. In spring, real spring, not cut into pieces by the magic of Chester, it must be stunningly beautiful there. It blooms, smells, and falls in pink and white rain at your feet. I would really like to see all this.

– What else besides Sydney? – asked Dougal. – Snows of Kilimanjaro? Grand Canyon? Dawn over Fuji?

– Northern lights. But I won’t refuse the sunrise over Fuji either.

– What about the patriotic moors of Scotland? Didn't you like it?

– They already were. You can cross them off the list. Is it possible to get another purple one and exchange it for Mrs. Ferguson's pies?

– Not bad idea. We need to think it over.

Then there was night and fireworks over the ocean. Scarlet, green, golden balls swelled and fell into the sea, leaving luminous paths. I still don’t understand whether it’s magic or fireworks like ours. It wasn't that important. The thought was much stronger that the moment was absolutely suitable for kissing, but Dougal showed no “such” intentions. This was both pleasant and disturbing at the same time. In the end, I let go of the situation, forbidding myself to think about whether we would have a tomorrow. If not, if Dougal and his rational approach were lost to the curse – well, at least he managed to give me a magical last day. It's worth a lot.

And yet I wanted, so incredibly I wanted to believe in the future! The fact that we have it… more than a few hours before the end of my seventh day after the ritual. I didn’t even know the exact time! “Midnight or a little later”… Although… maybe this is for the better?

And I asked, turning to Dougal and not even thinking that anyone else could hear us:

– Boy or girl?

The silence was so long that I couldn’t stand it and tried to look into his face. It turned out that he was extremely focused. Frown brows, half-closed eyes.

– Dougal? – she called carefully. What is he even doing?

– Wait. I calculate the statistical probability of twins.

– Different sexes? – I clarified, dumbfounded and at the same time skeptical.

– Exactly.

– Extremely low. But you can always try again.

– Attempts threaten with triplets, this is too much.

Where did he even get this from? Or is he joking?

–Are you kidding? – I clarified. – Sounds… a little crazy.

“Elixirs,” he explained briefly. – Cause addiction and increase likelihood.

– What about without them? naturally?

“Then we’ll have to calculate the probability of seniority.”

– Whose seniority? – It seems that I didn’t understand anything at all.

– A boy, of course.

– Fifty-fifty, as far as I remember the school physiology course.

– In our world, you can change the ratio. But the result depends on too many factors.

–Who do you want? – I couldn’t stand it.

“I can’t choose,” it sounded irritated, but behind the irritation one could sense confusion. ?Well, never thought about it? At least… hypothetically! – And you?

“I want two,” I answered seriously. – Growing up alone… it’s sad, and then it’s also lonely. And it doesn’t matter who… that’s how it turns out. I won’t love my daughter less if I wanted a son. Or vice versa. So – why choose? It's men who always want someone specific. Or an heir, or a little princess.

– As you can see, not always. There are more severe cases.

“I see,” I smiled. – And honestly, I like that you can't choose.

“The eldest must be a boy,” Dougal said with conviction. – A younger sister is a reason to grow up with a sense of responsibility.

“Being an older sister is also useful.” It seems so to me.

We reached the openwork lattice and turned into the open gates of the park. It was now quiet and deserted, the spreading crowns rustled in the light wind, and the yellowish light of lanterns flooded the paths strewn with fine white sand. The roar of the surf came here as a faint echo, and some night birds screamed in the bushes.

We sat on a bench under a lantern. I leaned against Dougal's shoulder, and for some reason it felt easy and natural. And just as naturally, he put his hand on my shoulders, hugging me. Asked:

– Isn’t it time to change your dress to something warmer?

– No. I feel… good.

“Then let’s change something else.”