Ewan crawled closer to Maxwell without meaning to, pressing his shoulder lightly into Maxwell’s leg seeking comfort. Maxwell did not move away.
Minutes stretched.
Time became a thing made of sound. Mairi’s cry. Moira’s command. The healer’s low murmurs. Ariella’s voice, steady as a drumbeat.
Maxwell stared at the door until his eyes ached.
Callum whispered, “She’s screaming.”
Maxwell’s jaw flexed. “Aye.”
Ewan clutched his knee. “Da’s going to faint.”
“I am nae,” Callum hissed, then swayed slightly.
Maxwell braced him by the shoulder without ceremony. “If ye faint, I will drag ye to the yard and let the dogs lick ye awake.”
Callum gave a strangled laugh that sounded like a sob.
Then everything changed.
A new sound cut through the air. High. Sharp. Alive.
A baby’s cry.
Callum made a noise that was not a single word. His knees nearly gave out.
Ewan gasped. “The baby.”
Maxwell felt something inside him release, as if he had been holding a breath he did not realize he’d taken.
The baby cried again, furious and strong.
Relief washed down the corridor like warm water.
Callum pressed both hands to his face. “Oh, thank God.”
Ewan scrambled up, hopping on one foot, excitement replacing fear. “Is it a boy? Is it a girl?”
Maxwell did not answer. He could not. His throat was tight, and he did not trust his voice.
The door opened.
Moira appeared first, hair wild, face flushed, eyes bright with triumph. She pointed at Callum like he was a criminal. “If ye fainted, I would have ye hanged by the buttresses by yer toes!”
Callum stumbled forward. “Where’s me Mairi?”
Moira stepped aside. “Go. She’s asking for ye.”
Callum rushed inside.
Maxwell took one step toward the door, then hesitated. He did not belong in that room. Not in the world of women and blood and birth. Not in the space where pain turned into life.
Then the healer looked out, eyes steady. “Me laird, ye may enter. Quietly.”
Maxwell nodded once and stepped in.
The bedchamber looked transformed. Cloths piled on a chair. A basin stained. Candles burning low. Sweat and iron in the air. The hearth roaring like it had been fed with the sun itself.
