Chapter 157 - 105 : Year 11 - 19 A Son(3)

Chapter 157: Chapter 105 : Year 11 - 19 A Son(3)

The celebration did not remain within the family for long. As news of the birth spread through the city, congratulations began arriving from the lesser nobles who held land under House Veymont, along with neighboring families and other noble houses that maintained ties with the Count. Some sent letters bearing their seals, while others dispatched representatives carrying gifts and formal expressions of goodwill. Fine cloth, silver vessels, carefully selected wines, and other presents arrived at the castle, each accompanied by a message welcoming the new child and congratulating his parents. The gifts differed in value, but together they reflected the network of relationships House Veymont had built over the years. For some, the occasion was deeply personal; for others, it was also an opportunity to reaffirm their ties with a powerful and respected house.

The Count ordered a banquet to mark the occasion, inviting family members, trusted vassals, and representatives of the noble houses that had sent their congratulations. The castle’s kitchens worked through the day, servants prepared the great hall, and musicians were summoned to provide entertainment. Beyond the castle walls, the Count also arranged for food and drink to be distributed among the townspeople, and celebrations soon spread through the city. Taverns grew busier, merchants stayed open to serve the crowds, and music carried through the streets as people gathered to share in the occasion.

For several days, the city took on a festive air. Yet beneath the formal congratulations, the gifts, and the celebrations, the heart of the occasion remained simple. Lucian and Lucy had welcomed their first child, the Count had become a grandfather, and House Veymont had entered a new Chapter of its history. The family had grown, and those who cared for them, whether bound by blood, loyalty, or years spent together under the same roof, had found their own reasons to rejoice.

The boy was raised with the warmth that had always characterized the household. He spent much of his early childhood close to Lucy, who was rarely far from him when her duties permitted. Lucian, despite the increasing weight of his responsibilities, refused to become a father who knew his son only through reports from servants.

Even when noble affairs took Lucian away from home, his thoughts often returned to Lucy and their son. And whenever his duties brought him back to Castle Veymont, he cherished the time he could spend with them.

Fatherhood had become another part of his life, but it was one he never wanted to leave entirely in someone else’s hands. Lucy shared that feeling, and together they found joy in the smallest changes as their son grew. They celebrated the first time he managed to turn himself over, laughed when he tried to crawl toward something just beyond his reach, and watched with growing excitement as he began pulling himself upright against furniture.

When he finally took a few unsteady steps between them, Lucy reached for him as Lucian encouraged him forward, and the three of them ended up laughing when he stumbled into his father’s arms. Lucian often carried the boy through the castle, the child clinging to his clothes or resting against his shoulder as they walked, while Lucy sometimes joined them and listened to her husband speak to their son about whatever caught his attention along the way.

At other times, they settled together in their rooms, with Lucy holding the child while Lucian sat beside her, or the two of them watching with amusement as their son explored the space around him. As he grew more curious, they began teaching him simple things, showing him how to greet the servants he encountered and gently guiding him when he reached for something he shouldn’t.

Their son did not understand most of what they told him yet, but he responded to their voices, their smiles, and the familiar comfort of being near them. For Lucian and Lucy, these ordinary moments became some of the happiest parts of their days.

They had entered parenthood with their own uncertainties, but as they watched their son grow, they found themselves learning alongside him, discovering that the joy of raising him lay not only in the milestones they celebrated, but also in the countless little moments they shared as a family.

The Count found himself making more time for his grandson than he had ever expected. His days remained occupied with the affairs of House Veymont, from the management of its estates to the reports that arrived from its mines and garrisons, yet he often found a reason to visit Lucian and Lucy whenever he returned to the castle.

Sometimes he would take the child into his arms and settle into a chair, intending to stay only a few minutes, then remain long after the business he had meant to attend to had been forgotten. The boy was still too young to understand who held him, but he would stare up at his grandfather with wide, curious eyes, occasionally reaching for his beard or closing his tiny fingers around one of the old man’s fingers.

Each time, the Count found himself smiling despite his best efforts to maintain the stern composure that had served him throughout his life. He had faced armed opponents without hesitation and made difficult decisions that affected the lives of many people, yet the sight of his grandson’s unsteady attempts to lift his head or the little sounds he made when someone spoke to him could soften him in ways few people at the castle ever witnessed.

On quieter days, he would watch Lucian and Lucy caring for their son, finding a particular satisfaction in seeing the family his own child had built. Lucian had grown into a capable man, a husband, and now a father, and the Count could not help feeling proud of the life taking shape before him. Yet there were moments when that happiness carried a quiet ache.

He would find himself thinking of his wife, wondering how she would have smiled at the sight of their grandson, how readily she would have taken him into her arms, and how proud she would have been to see the son they had raised now raising a child of his own. The thought sometimes left his eyes lingering on the baby a little longer than usual. He wished she could have been there to share it with him, though he knew that wishing could not bring her back. So he held on to the moments he still had, allowing himself to enjoy his grandson’s presence without letting the sadness overshadow it.

For all the responsibilities he carried as Count of House Veymont, he had discovered that being a grandfather offered him a different kind of happiness, one that asked nothing of him beyond being there to watch the child grow

For the child, the world was still a collection of familiar faces, voices, and sensations. He knew his mother’s warmth and the sound of her voice, which often reached him before he saw her. He knew the feel of his father’s arms, the steady rise and fall of his chest when he was carried, and the way Lucian’s face seemed to brighten whenever he looked down at him. His grandfather was another familiar presence, one whose beard offered an irresistible thing to grab whenever he held the child close. The old man would pretend to protest, only to laugh when the little fingers tightened around the strands.

As he grew, the castle gradually became more familiar to him. He watched patches of sunlight move across the floors, followed servants passing through open doorways, and turned toward the sounds of footsteps echoing along the corridors. Sometimes a maid would pause in her work to smile at him or make a playful sound until he responded with a delighted giggle. The guards stationed near the rooms became familiar faces too, often greeting him with a warmth that contrasted with their usual seriousness. He could not understand their words, but he responded to their smiles, their voices, and the attention they gave him.

There was always someone nearby to lift him when he grew restless, carry him when he tired of sitting, or retrieve a toy that had rolled beyond his reach. Lucy often sat with him while attending to the household, letting him play beside her as she worked, while Lucian would sometimes carry him through the castle, allowing him to watch the activity around them from the safety of his arms. His grandfather’s visits brought their own excitement, especially when the old man settled down with him and patiently endured the little hands that seemed determined to explore everything they could reach.

As the months passed, the world became larger in ways he could experience but not yet understand. He began reaching for things, crawling toward whatever caught his attention, and eventually pulling himself upright against furniture while his parents watched nearby. The familiar rooms offered new discoveries every day, and the people around him seemed endlessly willing to share in his excitement. When he stumbled or became frightened by an unfamiliar sound, there was always a familiar voice to soothe him and a pair of arms ready to gather him close.

He knew nothing of noble rank, the lands belonging to House Veymont, or the responsibilities his father carried beyond the castle walls. Those things belonged to a world he was still too young to comprehend. His own world was much simpler: his mother’s smile when she leaned over him, his father’s laughter when he managed something new, his grandfather’s delighted voice, and the steady presence of the people who cared for him. Within the great castle, surrounded by familiar faces and held close by his family, he was slowly discovering the world one small experience at a time.