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Without another word, I bent to pick up Alexandra in my arms, stopping only long enough to have Edith place our son into his mother’s arms before I carried them both to the bedroom—the same place Alexandra and I spent the first night of our marriage.
With one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other curved under her arm, I held my wife and my son close. The babe’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to sleep peacefully though every few minutes, his face would scrunch up as if in discomfort. It lasted but a moment, and his tiny eyelids would smooth out, and his mouth would move in quick sucking motions.
Every time he moved, made a sound, or even took a breath, I felt my heart reach out for him. He was so very tiny, and I knew he had come earlier than he was meant to. I feared for him though I would not mention it to Alexandra. It would only cause her to worry, and there would be nothing she could do. A fleeting memory of a messenger who came to tell me Bridgett had birthed a daughter crossed my mind, followed only two days later with another one to say the babe had perished. I had never seen the child though I did go to Bridgett and helped her as much as I could. I had been just barely a man myself and knew nothing more than to offer her gold for her troubles.
Now that I looked upon my son—a child created from both Alexandra and me—I realized how truly hard and calloused I must have seemed to the Duke’s daughter. I wondered if she had bestowed even a fraction of the love I wanted to give to this child on the daughter who did not live. It saddened me, and I vowed to myself to find Bridgett and do right by her even if it was far too late to truly make amends.
I kissed the top of Alexandra’s head, and she tilted her face to m
ine.
“He is so small,” she said.
“He is.”
“He seems so fragile in my arms.”
“No,” I said, disagreeing immediately, “he is strong. You can tell by how loud he cries.”
Alexandra held in a laugh so as not to wake him.
“I love him already,” she said softly. “I did before he was even born but especially now that I have seen him.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” she asked as she looked quizzically into my face. I responded with my eyes, and after a moment, she nodded. “Yes, you do.”
“I love you,” I told her. “How could I not love the child you bore me?”
“I love you, too,” she responded. She looked back to the babe who now slept peacefully in her arms. “I have two Branfords to love now.”
I tightened my grip on her again, both at the sound of her words and at the prospect of how differently it could have been if I had not been here in time or if our people had not left their farms to fight for their queen.
“I thought I might never see you again,” I said quietly. Alexandra turned her head up to look at me, and I could see tears forming in her eyes.
“She said…she said she would have me killed as soon as the baby was born.” Alexandra tightened her arms around little Branford, but she pushed her shoulder against my body, and I gripped her closer in response. “When I started feeling pains…I knew he was coming, and I was so afraid…”
Her tears flowed freely, and I held her as close as I dared. A moment later, the babe awoke and protested at the movement. Alexandra immediately began to coo at him, and I shifted a little and helped her lower one side of her gown and allow the babe to nurse. He calmed immediately, and as he did, I felt my wife relax in my grip as well.
“Never again,” I told her. “Hadebrand is no more. You are safe now.”
“What of those who live there?” Alexandra asked.
“What of them?”
Alexandra hesitated before she responded.
“Edgar was…unkind to the people of Wynton after their lands fell into his hands. What will now happen to the people of Hadebrand?”
“There are no more people of Hadebrand,” I replied. When Alexandra looked up at me with a shocked expression, I shook my head and clarified. “They are not all dead—they are now people of Silverhelm. I would not be cruel to those who were simply unfortunate enough to have their family’s farm in a certain location.”
She nodded and lay her head back down on my shoulder to watch our son as he squirmed slightly in her arms.
“He is beautiful,” she whispered as his eyes closed, and he continued to suck even though he appeared to have fallen back asleep. “He looks just like you.”
“Hmm.” I hummed as I looked him over. There were similarities that were obvious—his eyes and the shape of his lips, but his nose was the same as hers, and he did not have enough hair to determine what color it might be. “I see his mother in him as well.”
Alexandra’s eyelids fluttered closed as she lifted our son from her breast and placed him against the other. As the babe continued his meal, Alexandra’s eyelids grew heavier.
