Chapter

Thirty-Six

MIRANDA

“He’s beautiful, Viravia.”

Miranda sat at the edge of a bed in a small room within the healer’s house. Bright morning sunlight streamed through the windows, giving the illusion that the world outside was just as warm as it was inside the bedroom. The crackling fire at the foot of the bed was merry. The blankets were fluffy and soft. The walls were painted with flowers and animals.

And the tiny baby in Miranda’s arms was fast asleep. Miranda had never had the privilege of holding a little one so young before. On Earth, illness and pollution kept babies, along with their caregivers, isolated for many months before they were exposed to the world.

He was so precious and tiny—little green hands clinging to her fingers and black nails so small it was a miracle all by itself. He smelled incredible, sweet and clean.

“He’s perfect,” Viravia said softly, her tone reverent. Her love for her little one transcended all boundaries and spilled from her face as she reached for her babe again. Miranda handed him back to her without hesitation. Had she been holding her own newborn, Miranda wasn’t certain she would have let anyone hold him, perhaps not even Govek.

Viravia set the baby to her breast and the little one began to nurse with gusto. The slack expression on the new mother’s face indicated that she felt no pain, and from the light clicking Miranda knew the baby was swallowing. Her milk hadn’t come in fully yet but expressing produced a little.

Enough to put both Miranda and Viravia’s minds at ease. She was producing, the baby was latching. At this point, the bottles she’d prepared would probably gather dust on Viravia’s shelves.

“He’s going to thrive, Viravia.” Miranda hoped her confidence would soak into the worried mother. “Or should I call you Ovinia?”

“No,” Viravia said softly as she stroked her baby’s plump cheek. “Ovinia is gone. She was gone the moment I found myself pregnant. I can’t go back, Miranda. I can only go forward. You understand, don’t you?”

She did in some respects, but not in others. Viravia had accepted Karthoc’s gifts for her and their child. The bedding and the babe’s blanket were from him. He’d brought all of her meals so far. He sat out on the healer’s porch, staring off into the woods, shoulders slumped, eyes vacant.

Viravia would not let him in.

But Miranda could not judge the woman. Viravia had spoken a little of the difficulties she’d gone through at Karthoc’s forge. Of the trials she’d been forced to face and how hard she had tried to convince the male she had once loved to see her side.

Karthoc had much to make up for. A few blankets and meals weren’t going to cut it. It would take a long time and a lot of therapy.

They didn’t even have therapists in this world.

“How are you feeling now?” Miranda said. “Are you still sore?”

“Not at all,” Viravia said, casting a relieved smile. “The delivery was a trial, but the orc medicines are a dream. I’m completely healed.”

“Good,” Miranda said with a nod.

“I... want to apologize again.” Viravia met Miranda’s eyes. “For lying to you... about this. And to Govek, but I am not sure he’s willing to hear it...”

Miranda pursed her lips, uncertain if Govek would be receptive to an apology right now. Though not for the reasons one might expect. “He truly isn’t mad about it, Viravia. Not after I told him that Tavggol knew.”

Viravia licked her lips, eyes going earnest. “He truly did know. I know I don’t have any proof that he did, but?—”

Miranda held up her hand. “You don’t have to show him proof. He believes you. He remembers a bunch of things about your relationship that he didn’t realize were weird at the time.”

Viravia blinked, brows rising. “Like what?”

“Like the fact that the two of you didn’t touch each other very often.”

Viravia blushed. “He noticed that?”

Miranda laughed at the woman’s shock. She couldn’t help it. “Not at the time, but now that he’s with me, he realizes how odd it was. He also recalls how often Tavggol willingly left you to go hunting with him or travel to Clairton. To say nothing of the risks he took trying to strike up that trade.” Miranda looked down at the baby.

Govek had told her that if Viravia was Tavggol’s true mate, carrying his son, he would never have risked his life in such a way. He knew his brother well, and nothing could have pulled him away from his mate’s side.

Miranda would not argue. She didn’t know Tavggol, but she also knew that Govek was likely projecting his own feelings on the matter. It felt wonderful knowing she was Govek’s priority, but clearly, for some relationships, other responsibilities took a higher place. Karthoc was sitting out on the porch, barred from meeting his son, for that very reason.