Reluctantly, Baldric had taken a seat and had endeavoured to listen to what Ana had to say. He was privy to what the law entailed, of course, but when her words struck at his ears he found that he was at a loss of where his own had gone. Marriage. Children. Mentions of those two things had whipped away any drastically witty retort that he had hidden in his belt. He had come to accept that both were going to pass him by. He recognised that he should have been happy but, make no mistake, he certainly was not. He would have been a heinous liar, however, if he sat and protested that he wanted neither. He did want the whole package and he always had done but he had never wanted it unless he was with someone he wanted to be with and who wanted to be with him. He’d never found that with another woman, with whom the marriage and babies scenario usually played out, and instead he had come to terms and had made peace with the idea that it would, indeed, be something he couldn’t quite have. Nevertheless, he still wasn’t entirely enamoured with the idea of the Ministry offering it up to him on a platter. As pretty as Nessarose was, he saw nothing that encouraged in him the idea that the marriage – and, especially the children part – could ever be a reality. She wasn’t right and, from the look on her face, he certainly wasn’t right for her, either. So, at least they both knew where they stood, it appeared.
Baldric bit his lip a little, unsure whether he really wanted to go through with this. Actually no, scratch that, he didn’t want to go through with it at all. There was a part of him that wanted to own up to his preferences and declare that, for the sake of the birthing clause, they had better find someone else. Of course, it wasn’t his best excuse in the whole wide world, either, so he kept quiet. He knew he couldn’t fight it. He didn’t have any one else to marry in order to get out of it because regardless of whether or not you married someone who wasn’t your match, the clause still held and thus whether you were Kieran and Millie or Sonia and Baird, you still had to produce children. Baldric couldn’t get out of it, this he knew, and he didn’t know why but he felt as though he needed to fight in order to feel as though he’d achieved something, anything, at all. However, he wasn’t one with words, usually, our Baldric, and so when he opened his mouth, the first thing that came out was the following:
“I’m infertile, Mrs Levski,” Baldric coughed a little and brought his hand to his mouth, surprised at his own words but thankfully, the cough distracted him enough. He cleared his throat and looked about furtively, trying to plaster a look of utter shame and sadness on his face. “I’m afraid there’ll be no need for a fertility test,” he added, looking up. He wasn’t going to get away with it, he didn’t think. Still, it was better than nothing. There was a chance in it, of that he was certain. Still, whether there was or wasn’t, he was vaguely sure that still would have come out of his mouth. Easily the worst thing he’d ever said, ever, in the history of the worst things he’d ever said, Baldric couldn’t back out now.
“So, uh, that doesn’t really endear me to the rest of the law does it?” He queried with a weak smile, rising from his chair. “I’ve wasted your time really so I’ll be off then, shall I?”