Momnesia.
She knew what it was. More often than not, even in her real world, people also called momnesia its other na. ’Pregnancy brain’.
Also ’baby brain’, or, you know, gestational cognitive impairnt.
She imdiately googled it and ca to find out it was not an old wife’s tale at all. It was real. A genuine, dically docunted phenonon in which pregnant won experienced mory lapses, brain fog, confusion, and difficulty concentrating.
The hormones, the fatigue, the massive, fundantal restructuring of the body’s resources as it redirected blood flow and nutrients toward the growing baby, all of it combined to turn a perfectly functional brain into sothing that forgot where it had put its keys, or why it had walked into a room.
Or, in extre cases, what had happened a month and a half ago.
Bin to the go, bingo.
Cecilia stared at her phone and the screen glowed back at her, offering article after article, study after study, the collective testimony of millions of pregnant won who had temporarily lost pieces of their own minds to the demands of growing a new life.
Eureka!
She could claim to have it, plausibly and reasonably. The full backing of dical science and the sympathetic understanding of anyone who had ever been pregnant or knew soone who was—she could weaponize that!
If she forgot details about how she had t the three n, or if she asked questions that seed strange and needed them to fill in the gaps, she could simply bla it on the baby!
It was already stealing her calcium, it made sense if it stole her short-term mory in equal asure!
Perfect!
Now, let us plan so well-placed strange questions!
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep—
Cecilia heard the front door open.
"I’m ho."
She flinched upright on her bed, her phone tumbling from her lap onto the duvet. Oathran’s warm voice drifted through the apartnt. It was nine in the morning, the usual ti he returned from his overnight shift of rift-closing and ingredient hunting.
"Oathran~!"
She scrambled off the bed, her bare feet padding across the smooth floor, rounded the corner into the living room and stopped.
A floating giant bouquet of flowers erged. Again. It was another enormous, billowing cloud of white lilies, so large it seed to have its own gravitational field. It was drifting toward her like a fragrant, petal-laden moon.
"Huh?"
She had made the exact sa reaction last week.
Oathran appeared from behind the bouquet, his mist grey eyes crinkling with amusent.
"But the flowers from a week ago are still..." Cecilia blinked, looking around the apartnt. Every vase they owned, and several they had purchased specifically for this purpose, was filled with gorgeous lilies.
The original bouquet had been so enormous that she had been forced to distribute the blooms throughout the entire apartnt, turning every surface into a miniature garden.
"Yes," Oathran pushed the flowers aside just enough to lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. "But let’s replace the ones in your room with fresh flowers. Flowers are never a waste, alright?"
Cecilia looked at him reluctantly. Though she wasn’t clear about what she was reluctant about.
"You are going to your part-ti job at McKing today, right?"
"You keep saying I should continue working there. So I will." Oathran said patiently. Though he also had this little stubborn tone to it. "I will still ask you again, though. I want to resign. Can I resign?"
"Nooooooo," Cecilia whined. She clutched at his arm, eyes wide and beseeching. "Because you look... kinda hot in the uniform..."
Oathran coughed and cleared his throat. His cheeks flushed a little pink. He hadn’t yet gotten used to this woman’s unfiltered praise.
"Mmm, the first ti I saw you in it, I thought, are they filming a comrcial for McKing?" Cecilia said in a dreamy tone, "Surely this man can’t be a real employee."
"Ahem. Ahem." Oathran’s cough had beco a chuckle. "I’m also curious why they have not asked to film one yet."
There! The first gamble, successful! They had t after Oathran beca a McKing employee.
Finally, her tiline was narrowing.
Also, Oathran had told her about his past as a three-star restaurant’s chef during that conversation at the steakhouse, speaking of it as though she hadn’t already known.
Which ant they had t after he resigned from his restaurant, after he beca a burger-flipper. And according to Google, the latest increased rift outbreak cycle had started three years ago.
Sooooo, Oathran had quit his ten-year chef position around three years ago. Which ant they had t soti within that three-year window.
Good job, brain!
Now ca the risky part. The momnesia question.
"Hmm." She tilted her head, acting into the part of soone who was trying very hard to rember sothing that was just out of reach. "I do rember the first ti I saw you in that uniform... but was that the first ti I t you, though...?"
She batted her eyes at him innocently. "Remind again~?" She lilted sweetly. "I think I have a bit of that... ’baby brain’..."
Silence.
Ah, shit! What’s wrong?!
Oathran set the enormous bouquet down on the kitchen island carefully. The white lilies rustled softly, their fragrance filling the apartnt, but his pale eyes, when they turned back to her, had changed.
They were worried. There was a faint crease between his brows and a slight downturn of his lips. His hand imdiately rose to press against her forehead as though checking for a fever.
"Hmm..." He humd thoughtfully. "I think you need more supplents. Do you feel a... brain fog? Doctors said mory issues in pregnancies can be a sign of so kind of deficiency, especially with the egg drawing so much from your body."
"Have you been taking the pills Lazuardi prescribed? All of them? At the right tis?"
Ah.
She should have known. Of course this man would catch on to her supposed "momnesia" with imdiate bone-deep worry.
Forget questioning her story, he imdiately questioned her health. Was he already preparing to drag her back to the dragon doctor, or probably already calculating the fastest flight route to Lazuardi’s clinic?
"I am fine~" Cecilia said, her hand rising to cover his where it still rested against her forehead. She squeezed his fingers gently. "No, just... tell what you thought of when we first t. Okay? I want to hear it from your perspective."
Oathran’s worried expression softened. His hand slid from her forehead to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone.
"Hmm..." He smiled, seemingly rembering things. "You were cool."
Eh?
"I can’t believe you would forget that day," he continued, his smile widening by a fraction.
Eh? Was that day... that eventful?
Had she made a mistake by asking...?
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Alright, guys! This Chapter concludes the second half of the 12 Chapters mass release!
Again, happy birthday Webnovel! And enjoy!
See you guys tomorrow with normal updates! ♥️
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