The warmth of Freya's arms around his neck was a comfort and a treasure and with his face hidden in her hair a rare smile tilted his lips. Finally he pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Do you think it shall be a little prince or a little princess?" He asked her. He knew such matters weren't actually things she would know but his mother had always shown maternal instincts could pick up on such a thing. Of course it would have to be an heir, a strong bright son, but perhaps a daughter such a Freya was not such a bad thing either.