Chapter 767: Chapter 768: He’s so small
His face had changed in a way Isabella could not fully see, but she felt it in his body. The trembling that moved through him was small, but deep. One of his children had come into the world. His son. Their son.
The older woman quickly cleaned the baby with warm cloth, her hands practiced but gentle. He had not come in egg form. He had come out in beast form, tiny and wet and curled, with a small snake-like body that shimmered dark red under the firelight. He was so small that Isabella’s heart almost stopped from fear. But he moved. He cried. His little mouth opened wide, and his tiny body twisted with surprising strength.
Then the younger woman froze.
The older woman also slowed.
Because on the baby’s head were two tiny horns.
They were very soft-looking and small, no bigger than little rounded buds, but they were there. Two little horns on the head of a newborn snake beast.
The women looked at each other.
Then they looked at Cyrus.
Cyrus saw their faces and immediately understood.
For one second, his eyes lowered to his son, and something painful and protective crossed his face. Then he said, very calmly, "It is normal."
The older woman hesitated. "Normal?"
Cyrus looked at her.
His expression was gentle, but there was something in his eyes that told her clearly that this was not the time to question it too much.
"Perfectly normal," he said.
The younger woman quickly nodded, because truly, the child was breathing and crying and alive. In a world of beastmen, many strange bloodlines existed. Horns could mean many things. Maybe some old blood in Cyrus had shown itself. Maybe it was rare. Maybe it was simply none of her business.
Isabella did not care at all.
She had heard horns, normal, strange, boy, all of it, but her mind only held one thing.
Her baby was alive.
A baby boy.
She gave birth to a baby boy.
Her lips trembled, and tears ran down her face as she stared at the tiny creature being wrapped in soft warm cloth.
"He’s so small," she whispered.
Cyrus’s voice was rough near her ear. "He is strong."
The baby cried louder as if agreeing with him.
That sound broke something in Isabella.
She laughed and cried at the same time, weakly, breathlessly, with all the exhaustion in the world sitting on her shoulders. "He sounds angry."
Cyrus’s lips brushed her temple. "He is alive."
Those words made her cry harder.
The older woman wrapped the baby carefully and brought him close enough for Isabella to see before placing him near her chest for a moment. Glimora stretched her neck forward to look, but she stayed surprisingly gentle. Her ears were up now, and her eyes were round with wonder, as if she had never seen anything so small in her entire life.
The baby gave another loud cry.
Glimora flinched slightly.
Then she leaned closer again because curiosity defeated fear.
Isabella almost smiled.
But then another pressure moved inside her.
Her smile faded.
The older woman noticed immediately and placed one hand on Isabella’s stomach. Her expression became serious again.
"There are more," she said.
Isabella closed her eyes.
Of course there were more.
Why would her body stop at one when it could continue being dramatic?
Cyrus held her tighter, but his face had already shifted back into focus. He was happy. He was deeply, painfully happy. But the birth was not over. Isabella was still sweating, still weak, and still had more children inside her.
Still, the first cry had changed everything.
Outside the room, that cry carried through the stone walls and into the corridor.
At first, everyone froze.
Zyran heard it first because his whole body had been listening for any change inside the room. His red eyes widened slightly, and for once, there was no joke waiting in his mouth.
Luca stopped moving.
Shelia’s hand flew to her mouth.
Ophelia, who had been holding herself together for so long that her face looked pale from the effort, finally broke. A sob escaped her before she could stop it, and Valen immediately pulled her close.
"A baby," Ophelia cried against his chest. "That is a baby."
Valen’s hand stroked her back, but his own eyes were wet now too. "Yes. They are moving forward."
The sound spread farther than the corridor.
The guards nearby heard it.
The people waiting in the inner hall heard it.
Some villagers outside the palace had gathered despite the attack and the cold, unable to leave because Isabella was inside suffering and none of them could make their hearts go home. When the baby’s cry reached them faintly through the stone and snow, a wave of sound moved through the gathered people.
Relief.
Shock.
Joy.
A child had been born.
Their goddess had delivered one child.
Some of the women began to cry. Some beastmen lowered their heads and pressed their fists to their chests. A few of the refugee porters who had been taken in weeks ago actually fell to their knees in the snow, whispering blessings with trembling voices because to them, this meant hope had not broken yet.
But nobody fully relaxed.
Not really.
Because Isabella was still inside.
Until she was safe, no one could truly breathe.
The attack was still going on outside the village walls. Far away, through the wind and snow, roars and shouting still rose from time to time. Some of the strongest males had already gone to fight. Kian was out there. Osiris was out there. Asael was out there. The village was being defended, but nobody in the palace knew how bad it had become beyond the inner walls.
Inside the corridor, Zyran turned his head toward the far end where another shout echoed faintly.
Then he looked back at the birth room door.
For the first time, he looked torn too.
But he stayed.
Ophelia sobbed harder, and Valen held her while Shelia wiped her own eyes quickly and tried to remain steady.
The first baby’s cry had brought them relief.
It had also reminded them that everything was still far from over.
The attack was still going on, and people were still fighting. They did not know how bad it was out there.
