Chapter 21

Delayed birth.

That was more or less what had killed his mother. It had nearly taken him as well. He had been backwards in the womb, and she had labored long, exhausting herself, and then torn badly pushing him out. She had never delivered the afterbirth either, and had died soon after despite all the midwife could do.

He felt himself near tears thinking on it. He’d missed a mother’s love, because of what seemed a cruel whim of fate. She’d delivered more than a dozen children, and then died because of him. Was it any wonder his father had been cold to him? Was it any wonder his siblings—forced to stand in for the mother they’d lost—had resented him?