Chapter Text
Jude
I try not to focus on the ache in my lower body, or the rhythmic pounding in my head, or the two screaming babies handed to me by the midwife. The boy has a tawny brown complexion, much like mine, while the girl has Cardan’s pale complexion. I feel at odds with myself. No matter how much I try to tell myself that I do not know these two children at all, I cannot ignore the mighty part of me vowing to protect these two small bundles with every final breath of my body.
The midwife fusses around the bedroom, attempting to take my children from me.
I do not let her.
I pull both crying children closer to my chest. The boy stops crying, while the girl does not, thrashing in my arms, kicking her hands and feet desperately. That is when Cardan bursts into the room, looking winded and worried, his curls in disarray. The midwife freezes, dropping down into a low curtsy.
“Your Highness, you ought not—” She starts.
“You do not command me.” Cardan snaps at her. Then turns to me. “Tell me you are alright, Jude.” He says, crossing the room in a few strides to kneel by my bedside. I do not know what to make of my exhaustion, so I just blink at him, and he turns to the midwife. “Out.” He commands. One word, says the High King, and the midwife scurries out.
Cardan’s eyes fall to the wailing daughter in my hands, and he stands up, leaning down to take her from my arms so I can focus on the son. He cradles her against his chest, and the child stops fussing, her cries dissolving into tiny hiccups as her body relaxes. She curls up against Cardan’s chest, his rocking her back and forth lulling her into sleep.
I watch the High King’s face melt into an expression I did not know he was capable of as he runs the backs of his fingers down the sides of her face. “What shall we name them?” He asks, eyes fixated on the daughter in his arms. I look down to the son.
My son.
“Kaiser.” I blurt. I do not know what inspired the name, but I know it will fit every aspect of my boy through and through.
“Ivora.” He whispers, smiling down at the child with so much love that my heart aches. “My sweet, little flower.”