Page 47 of His Highness's Hidden Heir

“It will be okay,søta. I swear it.” God, he hoped he was telling her the truth.

He called out and the midwife hurried in.

Moments later, they had her on the bed and began preparing her.

“I feel like I’m failing,” she said miserably.

“Don’t you dare.” Magnus braced himself over her. This beautiful fighter had waited for him. He knew that, deep in his heart. It humbled him. He swooped to give her one kiss before he was asked to step back and suit up in scrubs. Then he held her hand, walking beside the gurney as they wheeled her into the theater.

She didn’t want the spinal block. She chose full anesthetic, but he was allowed to stay with her because he had damned well promised her he would. They would have to tranquilize him to get him to let go of her hand.

When it went limp in his, his breaths turned shallow. The next forty-eight minutes were the longest of his life.

He didn’t watch the procedure. He watched her still face, torn between relief that she was no longer in pain and anguish over what she was going through. Because of him.

Then a squawk sounded behind the drape.

“A boy, Your Highness. A big one,” the doctor said with a chuckle of wonder. “Do you want to cut the cord?”

His hand shook. The angry face of his son squinted at him. Magnus’s vision blurred.

“Put him here. She wanted skin contact,” Magnus insisted in an unsteady voice. He unbuttoned the top of her nightgown enough that the infant could rest on her chest while the midwife covered the baby in a warmed towel and gently dried him.

Magnus only realized he had picked up Lexi’s hand again when the midwife asked if he wanted to hold his son.

The baby complained when he was taken from Lexi and loosely swaddled. He didn’t want to be separated from his mama, but as Magnus took him into the crook of his arm, the buzzing arrived in his ears again.

“Is Lexi okay?” Magnus asked, mind split in two directions.

“It’s going very well, sir. We’re finishing up.”

Magnus could hardly hear him, the buzz in his ears was so deafening. It filled him with a vibration that made him afraid he would drop this creature who blinked and looked so earnestly into his eyes. For some reason, Magnus wanted to laugh. It was an urge the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since childhood.

“If you let me weigh him, sir, he can go with you into recovery with the princess.”

“I don’t want to let him go,” he admitted. But he let the midwife take the baby and he picked up Lexi’s hand again, holding on to her while he watched over her and their son.

Lexi slowly became aware of Magnus’s voice. He was talking to someone in Isleifisch. He sounded...

She turned her head, still foggy.

“Why are you talking to a towel?” she asked.

“You see?” He tilted the rolled towel. “I told you she would wake soon.”

“Oh,” she sighed. One clumsy hand went to the bandage on her abdomen, where she felt weak and sore and empty. The other lifted, trying to reach the ruddy face scowling from the swaddle.

“Look at this young man you made.” Magnus settled the baby half on her chest, so she could secure him with her arm and see his face. “Ten pounds, ten ounces. I made them convert it so you would know how big he was.”

“Hello, Rolf,” she said, smiling and touching his round little cheek.

Magnus gave a small exhale of exasperation and set his hand on the top of her head. His thumb caressed her brow.

“Since I witnessed what you had to endure, I will allow you to call our son Rolf Thorolf. But his given name will be Eryk and that is the name we will tell the queen.” He kissed her brow. “I’m hoping you’re still goofy from the anesthetic and won’t remember I said that.”

Maybe she was goofy from the anesthetic because she said, “I was afraid someone would take him while I was asleep, and he wouldn’t be here when I woke up.”

Magnus flinched and covered the hand that cradled their son. “I know. But I promised you that we would both be here, Lex, and I meant it. You can trust me now. Hmm?”

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