The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Chapter 337: A little princess is born!

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Eilika rubbed her eyes and yawned, noticing how dark the room had grown. Reaching for the bedside lamp, she switched it on and glanced at the clock; she had been asleep for nearly an hour.

After freshening up, she stepped out into the hallway, immediately met by the rich aroma of food wafting up from the lower floor. She hurried down the stairs, wondering if the kitchen staff had already begun preparing dinner.

At the bottom of the landing, her steps slowed. There in the kitchen stood Damian, rolled-up sleeves and all, working alongside the cook and house staff. Even Maurice was at his side, offering guidance as Damian moved between the counters.

A quiet smile touched her lips, her heart fluttering at the sight of his earnest effort. ’I had no idea he would start learning so soon.’

"Parsley leaves... Why must we add these?" Damian inquired, eyeing the chopped greenery on the counter.

"They serve for garnish, Your Grace, and offer a subtle freshness to the dish," the cook explained patiently.

Eilika quietly stepped back toward the drawing room, not wishing to disturb Damian’s focus.

"Your Grace, you are awake! I shall inform the Duke—" a passing maid began, before Eilika gently held up a hand.

"No, leave him be," Eilika instructed softy. "I would not have his attention stray."

The maid nodded respectfully. "May I fetch you a glass of water, Your Grace?"

"No, thank you."

The maid bowed and departed, leaving Eilika to sit alone in the tranquil room.

A short while later, Maurice’s voice drifted from the doorway as Damian finally emerged from the kitchen. "Your Grace, perhaps you should go upstairs now and wake the Duchess."

"I am already awake," Eilika said, rising gracefully from her seat to meet his gaze.

"Eilika!" Damian’s face lit up as he caught sight of her.

"I hear the Duke prepared dinner tonight. That is quite a surprise," she remarked, stepping toward him with a gentle smile.

"It seems His Grace has decided to try his hand at being a domestic husband," Maurice chimed in, a teasing glint in his eye. "He grew rather envious when the Duchess offered me praise earlier."

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Damian shot Maurice a pointed glare before turning back to Eilika. "Do not listen to him, Eilika. I have long harbored a desire to learn the culinary arts. Tonight simply afforded me the proper occasion."

An amused smile passed between Eilika and Maurice at his earnest defense.

"I’m speaking the truth," Damian insisted, holding his ground.

"We believe you," Eilika replied, her smile widening. "Shall we sit for dinner, then?"

"Yes," Damian agreed, an excitement flushing over his face.

~~~~~

"It was a pleasure conversing with you, Miss Martinez. You ought to rest once you have dined," King Nyxen said warmly.

Iliana and Sylvian bowed deeply to the monarch, while Ciaran and Angelina rose more slowly from their seats.

"Do take care of yourself and rest, Angelina. Your time is drawing near," Nyxen added, his expression softening as he looked toward her.

Angelina smiled and gave him a small nod before following the others out of the chamber.

As they stepped into the corridor, Angelina fell into step beside Iliana.

"I truly hope you intend to stay with us for a few days," she said warmly.

"I may stay for two or three days, Your Highness," Iliana replied.

A few steps behind them, Ciaran and Sylvian followed at a more leisurely pace, speaking in low voices.

"They have already become quite close," Ciaran remarked with a faint smile as he watched his wife and Iliana walking ahead.

Sylvian glanced toward them. "It certainly seems so."

They had barely taken a few more steps when Angelina suddenly stopped.

Her hand flew to her abdomen as her expression changed. A strong movement had pressed against her belly, far more forceful than the earlier kicks she had felt throughout the day.

"Oh..."

Iliana immediately turned toward her. "Your Highness?"

Angelina drew a slow, shaky breath, keeping one hand firmly against the curve of her stomach. The discomfort had begun as a tightening, but within moments, a sharper pain spread across her abdomen and lower back.

"Ahhh!"

She bent forward slightly, instinctively Iliana supporting her.

Ciaran noticed at once and hurried toward her.

"Angelina?"

She looked at him, her face suddenly pale.

"I think..." She paused as another wave of pain gripped her. "I think something is happening."

Before anyone could respond, she felt a sudden warmth between her legs.

Her eyes widened.

A moment later, the fluid began to run beneath her skirts and onto the floor.

"My water..." Angelina whispered, staring down in disbelief. "My water has broken."

Ciaran’s expression changed instantly.

"Call the physician!" he ordered.

The corridor, which had been calm only moments earlier, erupted into hurried movement. A nearby attendant immediately rushed away to summon the physician and the women assigned to assist with the birth.

Ciaran acted swiftly. Without wasting another moment, he bent down and lifted Angelina into his arms, carrying her directly toward their chamber.

"Ciaran..." Angelina breathed, gripping his shoulder as another wave of pain tightened through her abdomen.

"I have you," he assured her, his voice calm despite the worry in his eyes. "Just hold on."

The moment he carried her into the chamber, the attendants hurried forward to prepare the bed. Ciaran carefully lowered her onto the mattress, but her discomfort intensified almost immediately.

"Ahhh!"

Angelina cried out, louder than before, her fingers curling tightly into the sheets. Beads of sweat began to gather across her forehead and along her hairline as she struggled to breathe through the pain.

"Easy, Angelina," Ciaran said, taking her hand. "The physician is coming."

"Where is the physician?" Sylvian demanded anxiously.

He turned toward the doorway and hurried out himself, unwilling to wait another moment. He looked down the corridor and finally saw the physician approaching with several attendants and the midwife.

"Your Royal Highness, please wait outside," the midwife instructed firmly as she entered the chamber. "We shall take care of Her Royal Highness."

Ciaran hesitated, his eyes fixed on Angelina.

"But—"

"Please, Your Royal Highness. We need room to work."

Sylvian gently caught his brother by the arm.

"Come. We have to let them do their work."

Reluctantly, Ciaran stepped outside with him. The doors closed behind them, but Angelina’s cries could still be heard clearly through the wood.

Sylvian held his brother’s arm tightly.

"Everything will be fine," he assured him.

"It happened earlier than I expected," Ciaran said, his voice strained. He kept staring at the closed doors. "She is in there crying, Sylvian."

"I know."

Ciaran swallowed hard as another cry reached them from inside.

"I should be with her."

"She has the midwife and the physician with her. They know what they are doing."

Before Ciaran could answer, hurried footsteps approached from farther down the corridor.

"I heard that Angelina has gone into labor," King Nyxen said as he arrived with Travis.

Ciaran immediately turned toward his father, though the panic in his expression remained.

"Yes, Father," Sylvian answered. "It happened suddenly."

Nyxen looked toward the closed chamber doors, his expression becoming serious.

"How is she?"

"The midwife has taken charge," Sylvian replied. "They asked us both to wait outside."

Nyxen nodded slowly and placed a reassuring hand on Ciaran’s shoulder.

"Then we shall wait. She is in capable hands."

Ciaran gave a faint nod, but his eyes never left the chamber doors. Every cry from within made his body tense, and Sylvian remained beside him, refusing to let his brother face the long wait alone.

After a few moments, Sylvian glanced around the corridor, searching for Iliana, but she was nowhere in sight.

’Where did she go?’

He took a few quiet steps away from his brother, only to see Iliana emerge from the chamber.

His brows immediately furrowed. "You were inside?"

"Yes. I—I thought perhaps I could help, but then I realized they are all professionals," Iliana replied in a low voice.

She glanced toward the Crown Prince. Ciaran was pacing restlessly across the outer chamber, unable to remain still for more than a few moments. Nearby, King Nyxen sat in a chair that Travis had arranged for him.

Another cry from within the chamber reached them, and Ciaran halted before resuming his pacing.

"I pray the Crown Princess delivers safely," Sylvian murmured, clasping his hands together for a moment as he silently offered a prayer.

Iliana gently placed her hand on his arm.

"She will be fine," she assured him. "Go to your brother. He looks tense."

Sylvian followed her gaze toward Ciaran. His brother’s restless movements and strained expression made it clear how deeply the situation was affecting him.

"You are right."

Sylvian stepped over to his brother’s side, remaining by him until a piercing cry of a newborn echoed from within the chamber.

Ciaran’s tense expression dissolved into pure joy as a maidservant rushed out to the corridor, closely followed by the midwife.

"Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, a little princess is born! Congratulations! The Crown Princess has successfully given birth to a healthy baby girl," the midwife announced, bowing deeply.

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