Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
Aurelia
F rom the force of the pain that wracks my body at narrow intervals, I’d have to think my daughter is preparing to make her arrival any second. But as I pace my bedroom with three of the palace medics hovering around me, pausing every couple of minutes to ride out another contraction, the city’s bells ring at least five times. Beyond my windows, stars gleam through the darkness of the night.
My maids scurry this way and that, offering me water and wine and tidbits of food I mostly can’t bear to even think about eating. Sprite meows in sympathy and rubs her furry body against my shin.
The medics murmur encouragement. “You’re far enough along that the baby should be born just fine. Perhaps a little small, but they catch up quickly enough. We’ll see that all’s well.”
One places his hands on my belly when the muscles clench to spread a temporary numbing effect through my flesh. Another has me lie back on the bed periodically so she can check whether I’ve “opened” enough that the baby will have room to emerge.
Why did I think producing an heir was a good plan again? Gods help us, imagine the women who don’t have a full imperial staff tending to their needs through this process.
At some point, the contractions blend together, the last one not quite finished ebbing before the pain swells through my pelvis again. More medics arrive. Someone drapes a cool cloth across my forehead. Someone else offers a hand for me to squeeze.
I hope I don’t break any of their fingers.
In the middle of that hazy period, I notice my husband in the room. The staff must have tracked him down—it’s been long enough that the sedative Bianca gave him will have worn off. I know it’s Linus, and not only because his twin is tied up two floors below us. His lip curls with a trace of disgust when he looks at my straining belly and my sweat-damp face.
He doesn’t appear all that interested in me in general, though. His gaze keeps darting away with an air of distraction.
Has he already realized that Marc is gone? Found the forged note claiming that his twin wanted to seek a new fortune elsewhere?
Between the moments when the pain blares so loudly I can barely think, I catch snippets of conversation.
“Is she well?”
“The birth is progressing normally.”
“I heard she summoned you hours ago.”
“It shouldn’t be too long now.”
That’s a fucking relief. But does Linus even want this baby to be born?
Does he think he’s going to destroy my daughter too? Every particle of my body revolts against that possibility.
I clench my jaw and my fingers around the medic’s hand through another searing ache. Linus wavers in and out of view among my attendants.
“Let me know when the baby’s arrived. I have other matters to see to.”
“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Then he’s gone, thank all that’s holy.
For the last short time, I crouch on the birthing stool the medics brought with them. I pant and push and soak in whatever bits of magical comfort they can offer.
With a stabbing burn that seems to split me right down the middle, the life inside me finally slides out to meet the world.
The flurry of motion around me continues—cleaning the afterbirth, mending a tear, stopping the flow of blood. One medic’s gift spreads a deeper numbness through my deflated belly.
A baby’s thin cry splits the air.
Even though my head is foggy, I turn toward the sound automatically. Another medic is cradling a small, pale form in her arms.
“Where’s the wet nurse?” she calls out.
“No!” I say in what’s closer to a croak than a voice. I reach toward her. “I’ll take her tonight. Let me have her.”
The medic doesn’t argue. She nestles my daughter in my arms and helps me adjust the loose blouse they changed me into so I can offer her my breast.
Her features are so tiny, her face all scrunched up as if she isn’t ready to accept this new place she’s found herself in just yet. But her little hands grope and her mouth roots across my chest as I guide her into place.
My breast tingles with the flow of milk. I graze my fingers over the velvety down of dark brown hair that covers her head.
The medic smiles. “There. That’s a good latch right from the start. She knows what she’s meant to do.”
I’m not sure I know what I’m doing. Tucking this delicate body against mine and stroking her soft, warm skin feels totally natural. What in the realms happens after this, though?
I brought this life into being. I have to nurture her, protect her.
I don’t even know how well I can protect myself.
My baby’s mouth releases, and her head drifts to the side as she dozes. I wouldn’t mind a doze myself after all the furor.
The medics guide me over to my bed. They arrange the covers so my daughter won’t drown in them, and I lie on my side with my arm tucked around her.
“If you need anything else,” one starts.
I shake my head, heavy with exhaustion. “I only need to sleep. We’ll be fine. I’d like a little time just the two of us.”
A little time with no one watching over my shoulder, making me feel more like a spectacle than a mother.
The medic who handed me my daughter pats my shoulder in a way that sends a pang of homesickness through me. What I wouldn’t give to have my own mother here to guide me.
“We’ll be ready as you require,” the medic says. “Call out to your guards, and they’ll summon us in a moment.”
One by one, medics and maids file from the room. The door thumps shut with the click of the lock, leaving us blessedly alone.
Sprite leaps onto the bed but seems to realize it’s no good competing with the newcomer. She curls up against my back and starts to purr.
My eyes slide shut, but I don’t fall asleep fast enough to miss the faint hiss of the secret panel sliding open.
Bastien’s voice reaches me, hushed and tentative but eager. “Aurelia?”
My heart skips giddily. I lift my head to see all three of my princes stepping into the room from the hidden passage.
A smile tugs my lips wide. “I’m all right. She’s all right. She’s perfect.”
They gather at the side of the bed I’m facing. Even Raul holds himself ever so carefully to avoid disturbing our baby. A warm glow of affection spreads through my chest.
It’s Bastien who gazes at our daughter most avidly. She’s his on a different level from the others, after all.
He extends his hand as if to touch her and then curls his fingers into his palm. Awe fills his hushed tone. “Somehow I didn’t imagine just how small she’d be. I guess I’ve never seen a newborn before, only babies at least a few months old.”
“She might be a little smaller than most because she came a few weeks early. But the medics said they couldn’t detect any reason for concern. I gather a little early is not that unusual.”
Gods smite Linus—if he’d succeeded in delaying our travels as much as he clearly hoped to, I’d have given birth in the carriage with only the one medic who traveled with us and whoever we could summon from the nearby towns.
He’d probably have liked seeing me suffer like that.
Has he already heard about the birth? How long do I have until he comes to see his supposed heir?
The stutter of my pulse drives away most of my joy. I ease into a sitting position, keeping one hand on the baby’s back to steady her. “Where’s the reinforced undershirt? I was wearing it when I returned to the room. I should put it back on… Just in case.”
The pleased light vanishes from Raul’s face with his understanding of my fears. He prowls through the room and snatches up the garment from amid my crumpled clothes that the maids haven’t yet tidied from one of the chairs. “Here.”
I pull the garment over my thin blouse, confirming that the material leaves enough give for me to offer my breasts as my daughter needs them. My gaze veers to the belt resting on one of my trunks. “And my knife. I’ll put it under the other pillow so it’s close at hand.”
My body still aches enough that I’m not sure I could dash across the room with any kind of haste.
As Lorenzo hurries to retrieve the weapon, a frown darkens Bastien’s face. “Do you think Linus is going to try something now ? With so many people watching over you… Is he that mad?”
My throat constricts like the ghost of a hand clamping around it. “I don’t know, but I’d rather not take the chance. Marc’s absence might divert him for a while… or it might provoke him.”
Raul’s shoulders flex with reined-in might. “We’ll keep an eye on him. Everyone in the palace is too excited about the arrival of his heir to pay much attention to what we’re doing. And your guards will know if he tries to hurt you in here.”
They might, but that doesn’t mean they’ll intervene. Linus could order their execution far more easily than mine. No one stopped him from smacking me around or dislocating my shoulder the one time he resorted to violence in the past.
Tackling a problem swiftly and efficiently isn’t really his style, though. He’s always preferred prolonged torment.
“I’ll think on what we can do about him,” I say. “The sooner the better.”
Which means I have to figure out what we’re going to do with Marc too.
At the thought of sending the princes off to murder the other twin like a sheep taken to slaughter, my stomach turns. I don’t know what the answer is, but I barely know which way is up or down right now.
Perhaps after I sleep, it’ll all seem clearer.
“Take some water to Marc,” I add. “I’ll think about him too. We’ll decide later in the morning.”
Raul’s mouth twists, but when I ease back down next to our daughter, his expression softens. We all watch her little arm twitch at her side, her dainty lips part with the tiniest of sighs.
Bastien’s dark green eyes outright shine. “Do you know what you’re going to name her?”
Possibilities have drifted through my head for weeks, but nothing’s felt quite right. And it seemed like the men who’ll be her real fathers should have a say too.
But right now, with the three of them clustered around me in the darkness streaked with lantern light, I’m brought back to another perfect night a few months ago.
“I hadn’t made up my mind, but what do you think about Coraya?”
Bastien’s whole face brightens, and Raul lets out a chuckle.
Lorenzo beams at me. “That sounds perfect for our perfect baby, Rell.”
Why not honor the trees that have always been one of my favorite parts of my home country, the natural glow that shines on through the deepest night? The gift the three men I love gave me, because they understand me as no other person has… and likely ever will.
Just as no one else will likely know the full truth of our daughter’s heritage.
That thought brings me back to Marc and all the vicious truths I hurled at him. A wobble runs through my veins.
At the same moment, there’s a knock on the door. Jinalle’s voice carries through in my maid’s usual meek way. “Can I bring something in for you, Your Imperial Highness?”
The men’s stances stiffen. Bastien grazes his fingers over my hair with one last adoring smile at our daughter, and the princes vanish into the wall the way they came.
“Come in,” I call out, and yawn as a fresh wave of exhaustion rolls over me.
The two maids slip inside carrying a wooden cradle between them. They set it on the floor in the far corner, across from the bed.
“In case you decide you want the bed to yourself for a bit,” Eusette murmurs. “Sleep well, Your Imperial Highness.”
As quickly as they entered, they depart, and I’m left to contemplate the assassination of not one but two emperors.