Chapter 381: Two Daughters, Two Sons (Part 1)

Mark stayed quiet until he felt a bony hand press against his back.

The elderly midwife gave him a firm shove, just like she had that morning when she threw him out of the room, though this time the gesture went in the opposite direction.

Now she was making him go in.

"Move along, Your Majesty," the midwife said with an amused smile. "They don’t bite... for now."

Mark shot her an unconvinced look, but ended up obeying and advanced toward the beds with steps somewhat more cautious than he would have liked to admit.

Cali was the closest.

She was reclined against several pillows, disheveled, her glasses crooked on her nose and her white hair plastered to her forehead, completely exhausted after the birth.

Even so, the moment she saw Mark approach, she seemed to forget her fatigue.

"Master," she whispered as soon as he was near. "Come, I want you to see her properly."

In Cali’s arms rested a tiny girl wrapped in a white blanket. Her skin was the same intense red as her mother’s, and a tuft of soft, fine gray hair covered her head.

From beneath the blanket peeked a small demon tail, thin and pointed at the tip, swaying slowly from side to side as if she were still discovering it was part of her body.

Mark stared at her for a few seconds, trying to take in the fact that this tiny creature was truly his daughter.

"She’s beautiful..."

"Isn’t she?" Cali smiled with a pride impossible to hide, though a moment later she carefully ran a finger across the girl’s smooth forehead. "When she was born I got a little scared, because I expected her to have horns like mine."

Mark looked at the newborn’s forehead again. Until Cali mentioned it, he hadn’t even thought about it.

"I thought maybe something had gone wrong, and I ended up having the midwives check her more times than necessary," she confessed, somewhat embarrassed. "But according to the midwives, she was simply born without them."

Cali giggled and looked at her daughter again.

"Come to think of it, maybe she even got lucky... Mine used to catch on pillows, clothes, and practically anything that got too close when I was little."

Mark smiled.

"Then I guess she inherited an advantage."

"So it seems."

The midwife returned to their side and, before Mark could even ask what she was doing, took the girl from Cali’s arms and handed her to him.

He received her so carefully that he looked like he was holding something about to break, which made the old woman sigh and adjust his hands.

"Support her head well. That’s it. And stop being so stiff, Your Majesty, or the poor girl will think her father is a statue."

Mark tried to obey, though it was harder than he expected.

The girl weighed far less than he had imagined and was so small she nearly fit along the length of his forearm.

Feeling that warm little body against his stirred a strange mix of fascination and fear, as if any sudden movement might hurt her.

Then the baby slowly opened her eyes.

They were golden.

Just like Cali’s.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" he asked, without taking his eyes off his daughter.

"I wanted you to choose it."

Mark was silent for a few seconds as he studied the girl’s red skin, her gray hair, and those golden eyes that seemed to look at him without understanding anything.

Then he carefully brushed her cheek with his thumb.

"Ruby."

"What does it mean?"

"It’s a precious gemstone from my world. Red and shining... I thought it suited her."

Cali looked at the girl again, clearly satisfied with the explanation.

"Ruby," she repeated warmly. "Yes... I like how it sounds."

Mark placed Ruby back in Cali’s arms, kissed her on the forehead, and continued to Emilia’s bed.

He found her completely focused on the baby she held against her chest.

She looked like a different woman.

Nothing remained of the firm, solemn queen he was used to seeing. Emilia’s eyes were full of tears and her lips pressed tight, as if she was barely managing to keep her composure.

"My love, forgive me...," she murmured, turning to Mark. "I don’t know why I can’t stop crying."

"I think today you can allow yourself to."

That made Emilia let out a small laugh, and as she looked down at the baby again, Mark took a better look at her.

The girl rested peacefully wrapped in a green blanket.

She was a half-elf, her pointed ears somewhat shorter than her mother’s and a fine layer of green hair on her head.

And although she was still too small to know which features would end up defining her over time, it was clear that Mark’s genes had suffered a crushing defeat against his wife’s.

"She looks a lot like you."

"I hope only in looks...," Emilia replied, stroking her daughter’s hair with her fingertips.

For a few seconds she stared at the girl in silence, and when she spoke again it was in a much lower voice.

"I’ll make sure you never go through what I did," she whispered. "You won’t grow up alone in rooms too big for you... I’ll always be with you, just like your father, your brothers, and all the others."

Her voice broke for an instant.

"Someday you’ll probably end up begging us to leave you in peace, and that will be fine. Because it will mean you never had to wonder whether anyone loved you."

The tears ended up falling again.

Mark put an arm around her shoulders and let her lean against him without saying anything. He understood all too well what lay behind that promise.

Emilia had grown up without her parents and, for someone of a race that could live so long, that loss had left an especially painful wound.

"Elowen," Emilia said, still resting against him.

"Is that her name?"

Emilia nodded.

"In the old language of the elves it means something like young tree," her smile turned slightly nostalgic. "And it was also my mother’s middle name."

"Then it’s perfect."

"I’m glad you think so."