Chapter 155 - 105 : Year 11 - 19 A Son(1)

Chapter 155: Chapter 105 : Year 11 - 19 A Son(1)

The years passed quickly.

For Lucian, the years following his marriage had been the happiest of his life. It was not because every day had been easy, nor because marriage had somehow erased the burdens that came with being the heir to House Veymont. It was because, for the first time, he had someone beside him who was truly his own.

He had grown up surrounded by family. His father had raised him with care, and his uncle, relatives, retainers, and servants had all played their part in his upbringing. Yet there had always been a particular kind of companionship missing from his life, the quiet comfort of having someone who knew him not because they were family or because they served the same house, but because they had chosen to share their life with him.

Lucy filled that place naturally.

Their marriage did not remain untouched by disagreement. They came from different households and had been raised with different habits, expectations, and opinions. There were matters on which they disagreed, and there were occasions when a conversation that began calmly ended with neither willing to yield. But neither of them treated disagreement as a reason to withdraw. They learned each other’s temperaments, learned when to argue and when to listen, and slowly discovered that companionship was not the absence of differences. It was having someone with whom those differences could be worked through.

As the years passed, their affection deepened into something quieter and stronger. Lucy became the person Lucian looked for after returning from the day’s affairs. She knew when he was troubled before he spoke of it, and he learned to recognize the small changes in her expression when something within the household was bothering her. Their lives settled into a rhythm of shared responsibilities, private conversations, meals taken together when their duties allowed it, and the countless ordinary moments that never seemed important while they were happening.

The castle changed with them.

Not in its stones or walls, but in the life moving through it.

The household had gained another person who belonged there.

By the fourteenth year after Ethan had entered his slumber beneath the castle, a child’s cry was heard within House Veymont.

Lucian and Lucy had become parents.

Their first child was a son.

The news of Lucy’s pregnancy had already been enough to bring an unfamiliar brightness to the castle. For Lucian, the realization that he was going to become a father had struck deeper than he had expected. He had spent years preparing himself to inherit a title, manage an estate, command soldiers, and one day carry the responsibilities of House Veymont. None of those preparations had taught him how it would feel to realize that another life would soon depend upon him.

He found himself thinking about his own childhood more often. He remembered his father teaching him patiently, correcting him when he made mistakes and becoming stern when a lesson needed to be taken seriously. At the time, Lucian had understood those moments as part of growing up, as things his father was expected to do to prepare him for the responsibilities that would eventually fall on his shoulders. He had never given much thought to what it meant to be the person doing the teaching, to be the one a child would look to for guidance and reassurance. Now, with a child of his own on the way, those memories carried a different weight. One day, he would have to pass on what his father had taught him, and perhaps learn when to be patient and when to be firm. He wanted to do that well, but wanting it and knowing how were two different things. His father had made it look natural over the years, yet Lucian was beginning to understand that this did not mean it had always been easy for him. The thought left Lucian wondering what kind of father he would become, and whether, when the time came, he would know what his child needed from him.

As the months passed, Lucian found that he was not the only one thinking about the child and what awaited them. Lucy had her own moments of quiet uncertainty, though she rarely allowed them to overshadow her happiness. There were days when she wondered aloud whether she would know what to do when the baby arrived, or whether she would be able to manage the demands of motherhood as naturally as other women seemed to. Sometimes, her thoughts turned toward the birth itself, and Lucian could see the concern she tried to hide behind a smile. He never knew quite what to say when that happened. He wanted to reassure her, yet he could not honestly promise that everything would go smoothly. Lucy seemed to understand his hesitation. She would take his hand and remind him that they were facing this together, that neither of them was expected to know everything before their child was even born. When Lucian admitted that he sometimes wondered whether he would be a good father, she listened without making light of his concern. Then she reminded him of the man who had raised him. The Count had spent years teaching Lucian how to manage the estate, make difficult decisions, and accept the responsibilities that came with his position. There was no reason to believe he would refuse to guide his son through fatherhood as well. Lucian had never thought of his father in quite that way, but the thought brought him some comfort. He would not have to figure everything out alone, and neither would Lucy.

Lucy was not left to carry the changes of pregnancy without help from those around her, either. The household had grown increasingly attentive as her condition became more apparent. Servants who had once simply greeted her as the lady of the castle now watched for opportunities to make her day easier. A maid would appear to carry something before Lucy had finished reaching for it, while another would quietly take over a task she had always managed herself. If Lucy lingered too long on her feet, someone was likely to suggest that she sit down for a while. Even small requests were met with an eagerness that sometimes made her laugh. She would occasionally protest that she was still perfectly capable of doing things herself, only for the servants to exchange knowing looks and insist that there was no harm in letting them help. Their concern was not born merely of duty. Over the years, Lucy had earned their affection through the warmth with which she treated them, remembering names, asking after their families, and speaking to them as people rather than as part of the household’s furnishings. Now that she was carrying the next generation of House Veymont, they wanted to return some of the kindness she had shown them. Lucian noticed it in the little things, in the way conversations brightened when Lucy entered a room and how readily people came to her aid without waiting to be asked. It reassured him to know that she was surrounded by people who cared for her, though he still found himself paying closer attention to her comfort than he had before.

When the child was finally born, the news spread quickly through Castle Veymont. Servants carried the news from one room to another, and those who had been waiting began stopping them to ask whether Lucy and the baby were well. Even the guards, usually so composed at their posts, exchanged smiles when the news reached them. Before long, word had reached every corner of the castle. Lord Lucian and lady Lucy had welcomed a healthy son.

For Lucian, the reality of it took a moment to settle in. He was a father now. The child he and Lucy had spent months waiting for was finally here, and Lucy had come through the birth safely. Their son was healthy, and the relief of knowing both were well left Lucian wanting nothing more than to stay beside them and take in the fact that his family had grown.

Lucy lay propped against the pillows, exhausted from the birth, with her newborn son resting in her arms. He was so small that she could cradle him with little effort, yet she held him with a care that seemed to quiet everything else around her. Every so often, she lowered her eyes to his face, brushing a fingertip against his tiny cheek when he stirred. A tired smile kept returning to her lips, even when she looked as though she could barely keep her eyes open.

The midwives were still nearby, making their final checks and quietly discussing what Lucy would need during her recovery. One of them adjusted the blankets around the child, while another reminded Lucy to rest whenever she could. The room had begun to settle after the urgency of the birth, though an attendant continued arranging fresh linen and clearing away what was no longer needed.

When Lucian entered, he crossed the room almost at once. His attention went first to Lucy, searching her face before settling on the small bundle in her arms. She looked up at him, tired but smiling, and shifted the child slightly so he could see him better.

"Come and meet your son," she whispered.

Lucian moved closer to the bed. For a moment, he simply looked at the child, taking in his tiny features and the faint movements of his fingers beneath the blanket. Lucy watched him, her smile widening when she saw how carefully he leaned forward, as though afraid that even the smallest movement might disturb the baby.

"He’s so small," Lucian murmured.

Lucy looked down at their son, a tender smile settling on her tired face. "And somehow, it feels as though our whole world has changed."

That drew a quiet smile from Lucian. He sat beside her and reached out to touch their son’s tiny hand. The baby stirred at the contact, his fingers curling around Lucian’s before he let out a faint, breathy sound and settled again. Lucian watched him with a tenderness that softened his entire face, his eyes lingering on every small movement as though he were afraid of missing something.

Then he noticed the child’s hair. It was still fine and soft against his head, but its pale golden hue was unmistakable. It reminded him of his mother, whose hair had carried that same warm, almost golden shade. The resemblance caught him off guard. He brushed a fingertip lightly over the baby’s head, a smile spreading across his face as he looked down at his son. Lucy watched him quietly, seeing the depth of affection in his eyes as he took in this small, living piece of their family.