“I need to tell Helena not to announce Noah’s birth. And…and I need to tell Mareleau the truth.”
He took a step closer. “You’ve been awake for over a day. Rest. I can speak to Helena and Larylis. He can tell Mareleau.”
She pursed her lips, and the fatigue tugging at her features made it clear she was at least tempted by his offer. She shook her head. “No, I should be the one to tell Mareleau. I want to be there for her.” Her jaw tightened when she said the last part, but he didn’t comment on it.
“Let me at least deal with Helena then. Let me bear this burden with you.”
Her shoulders dropped and a sad smile worked the corners of her lips. “All right.”
He gathered her face in his hands and forced her to hold his eyes. “Sleep as soon as you’ve spoken to Mareleau. Promise me.”
She nodded. Then, with a parting kiss, he let her go.
His chest tightened as she left the room. It had pained him to see Cora cry earlier, but it pained him just as badly to see her so composed. So determined. She must be smothering her grief. Burying it. Yet he could relate. After his father had died, he’d buried his emotions in a flurry of activity and constant motion. How could he tell her not to do the same?
“I’ll go home to Zaras,” Emylia said, reminding him of her presence. He found her colorless form bent before the fireplace, staring longingly at the undulating flames. He wondered if she yearned to feel their heat. “It’s the closest I can get to Syrus. Perhaps I can uncover some useful information about Darius.”
“Thank you,” Teryn said.
Her face crumpled as she straightened and faced Teryn. “I really am sorry. I’ve caused her so much pain.”
“I know.”
With that, Emylia’s form rippled and dispersed until nothing of her remained.
Teryn blew out a heavy breath, steeled his nerves, and left Cora’s room to nip a rumor in the bud. Hopefully he could cut it down before it had a chance to take root outside these walls.
14
Larylis had read every book he could find about pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting, his sources ranging from medical texts to fiction. He’d been startled to find just how quickly he’d run out of reading material. And it wasn’t because he’d read through them so quickly. It was because the royal libraries at both Dermaine and Verlot were severely lacking in the subject. Especially where parenting was concerned or any of the myriad of other facets of becoming a new father.
So when he met his son for the first time, he found not a page of reading had been adequate in preparing him. The emotions welling up inside him at the sight of his wife holding their tiny child were stronger than anything he’d felt before. Stronger than grief or mourning. Stronger than desire or betrayal.
Mareleau’s joy mirrored his own as he settled onto the bed beside her. He let that joy wash over him. Let it sweep away the last vestiges of the anxiety he’d carried around all morning. The last twelve hours had been hell on his nerves. Mareleau hadn’t wanted him in her room while she labored, and he’d respected that. Respected it yet went half out of his mind pacing Teryn’s room. His only comfort was reciting all the great queens of history who’d delivered early babies or experienced surprising births. Teryn had tolerated this madness with stoic calm and had stayed by his side all night and morning until both had fallen into fitful rest.
When a knock had sounded at Teryn’s suite door, Larylis had bolted awake at once, shooting to his feet from the divan he’d been dozing on. His heart had nearly leaped from his chest when his mother-in-law announced that Mareleau was ready for him to see her.
He’d rushed down the hall to his wife’s room at once, fearing his heart might stop before he made it.
But it hadn’t. Instead, his heart had been shattered and soothed all at once.
And now it was calm.
Calm.
A feeling he wished would last forever.
He could hardly tear his eyes from his son—from Noah—but he managed to shift his gaze to his wife. His brave, beautiful wife. She caught him looking at her and gave him a warm yet tired smile.
“You did well,” he said.
Her expression faltered a bit at that. “Yes, I secured our heir.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
She blinked a few times as if realizing she did in fact know. She shook her head. “No, of course you didn’t. I suppose I’m already on edge waiting for all the congratulatory sentiments. Congratulating not me for being a mother, and not Noah for being born, but our legacy. That we’ve finally secured our throne. As if simply being crowned isn’t enough. To be honest, I almost wanted him to be born a girl, just to spite their expectations. And yet…” She released a heavy sigh. “Birthing male heirs is what is expected of me as queen, so I better steel myself for all the congratulations.”
Larylis draped his arm behind her and hugged her close to his side without disrupting her seated position or the sleeping babe in her arms. “It’s not what I expect of you. If we’d had a girl, I’d have been just as pleased. I’d have named her our heir without any reservations. I would have empowered her as she grew up. I wouldn’t belittle her or make her feel inferior in my attempts to protect her.”
