Long-Awaited Birth (Part - II)

Cordelia's thoughts drifted as drowsiness overtook her. Magic… Had I overlooked something? Before she could grasp the thread of her thoughts, sleep pulled her under.

Duke Armaturova watched his daughter succumb to slumber before carefully handing her back to his wife. When his son leaned in curiously, he placed a steady hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Newborns need rest to replenish their energy," he explained.

The Duchess adjusted the pillows around Cordelia, creating a soft, protective barrier. Though exhaustion had not completely overtaken her, a lingering discomfort settled within her body. Hunger gnawed at her—a familiar, inescapable reminder of what she needed.

She beckoned her husband closer, voice low. "You don't have to worry anymore. Go tend to your matters… but first, give me some blood."

The young boy at their side immediately straightened.

"I shall take my leave," he declared, pivoting without waiting for permission. Experience had taught him well—this was not a scene he wished to witness. He would return later. After all, he had a baby sister now, and he intended to spend as much time with her as possible.

Despite being raised within the ducal household, he knew he was not their legitimate child. I wasn't a good boy, he thought, not for the first time. If I were, my birth parents wouldn't have abandoned me. But the Duke and Duchess had accepted him, given him a place, and promised to treat him as their own.

He had never felt like an outsider in this formidable yet tightly bound family.

And now, with Cordelia's arrival… he could only hope she wouldn't see him as one either.

Outside the Inner Chamber

Beyond the heavy doors, two figures stood in the dimly lit corridor. The Xarya twins, unmistakable with their matching amber eyes, were locked in a familiar debate.

The taller of the two, his posture taut with frustration, clenched his fists. "I wasn't there to see her, but mark my words—she'll take after our Lady!" His voice carried down the passageway, brimming with conviction.

Edriesa, his sister, remained unbothered. Unlike her brother, she rarely allowed emotions to dictate her expression. She regarded him with the same cool detachment as always.

"You weren't there," she stated flatly. "I was. And I have seen the young miss."

Her calm indifference only aggravated Nester further.

The heavy doors creaked open before their quarrel could escalate. Duke Armaturov stepped into the corridor, his presence altering the atmosphere in an instant. The warmth he had shown inside the chamber vanished, replaced by the imposing air of the ruler of House Armaturov. His crimson gaze settled on Edriesa.

"The midwife?"

Both siblings immediately straightened.

"Per your orders, she is waiting in your study," Edriesa replied crisply. "Butler Zoran is attending to her."

The Duke gave a curt nod and strode past them. "Nester, follow me. Edriesa, stay with your Lady."

The twins responded in unison. "Yes, Master."

Without another word, Edriesa slipped into the chamber like a silent shadow, while Nester followed the Duke, his usual restlessness subdued in his master's presence.

The corridor stretched long and quiet, illuminated only by flickering sconces. As they walked, the Duke's voice cut through the silence.

"Any word from Araceli?"

Nester immediately understood the unspoken meaning. His master had been en route to the capital when news of his wife's labor had forced his return. Had he been alone, he might have used a warp technique to arrive sooner, but leaving his son unattended had not been an option.

"No message yet," Nester reported. "It seems they haven't caught wind of My Lady and the young miss's birth."

The Duke exhaled, a near-imperceptible shift in his posture betraying his thoughts.

"Keep it that way until I say otherwise."

They arrived at the massive double doors of the study. The conversation ended as the Duke pushed them open, stepping inside to face the matters awaiting him.

A Dark Abyss

Cordelia floated, weightless.

She had no body—only consciousness, drifting in an endless void. The darkness pressed against her like a second skin, suffocating in its silence.

Then, a voice.

"Wh… why do this, brother?"

It was soft and pleading, fragile like porcelain on the verge of breaking. The words stirred something deep within her—an unbearable, aching discomfort.

Her tiny body trembled against the silk sheets.

"If you had asked, I would have given it all up… If only you had asked."

The pain in that voice sliced through her, raw and desperate. She wanted to turn away, to escape—but she couldn't.

Beside her, the Duchess stirred. Even in sleep, she was attuned to her child's distress. Her sharp grey eyes flickered open.

Something was wrong.

She sat up, lifting Cordelia into her arms. The baby's small frame quivered, her face tense even in slumber.

"Shh… my sweetheart, what's wrong?" she murmured, stroking Cordelia's back in slow, soothing motions.

But the nightmare continued.

"Father never wronged you… He would never—"

The voice fractured, as if something had violently cut it off.

Then, a second voice seeped into the darkness, laced with venom.

"My sweet Theodora… Elohim was your father alone. He nev—"

A searing pain tore through Cordelia. It was unbearable—more than any dream should be able to inflict.

The Duchess's arms tightened around her daughter. Panic flickered in her gaze as she noticed something—Cordelia's breath came in uneven tremors, but she did not wake.

A silent cry.

Reaching for the bedside bell, she rang it once. The sharp chime sliced through the night.

Edriesa materialized at the foot of the bed, bowing swiftly. "Any orders, My Lady?"

The Duchess's voice was firm. "Fetch your master. Now."

Edriesa recognized the urgency and turned to leave.

Then—

A small movement.

Cordelia's eyelashes fluttered open, her ruby-red eyes glistening with unshed tears. She gazed up at her mother, an expression of quiet vulnerability piercing through the Duchess's heart.

For a moment, the Duchess could only stare, breath caught in her throat. Then, she exhaled sharply, relief washing over her.

"Wait," she called, voice softer. "No need to call Siniel yet. Inform him when he's finished with his work."

Edriesa bowed and vanished into the shadows.

Cordelia's mind remained hazy. The nightmare faded, but an ache lingered in her chest. Instinctively, she turned her gaze to the woman holding her.

Her mother.

For the first time, a new thought formed within her.

Perhaps… she could trust this person.

Perhaps… she could belong.