In Which Lucien Mentions Everyone Else

April 13, 1179

If Jadin and Isidro were to be believed, the best window of time for a new father to monopolize the baby was just as the birthing party was filing out or resting elsewhere until the time the first wave of visitors arrived. The midwife would be paid and gone; the mother would have gotten a satisfactory fill of her child, then would likely want to close her eyes for a while. With everyone else out of the way, if the father wanted a minute alone with his kid--and what father wouldn't?--this was the time.

Lucien lifted his son out of the crib with the caution he reserved for crumbling old scripts in the archives. He'd spent the last few months handling Vera's smallest nieces and nephews whenever possible and he'd thought he'd gotten the hang of it, but his own baby required another technique entirely. For all newborns were flesh and not glass, he feared the boy falling and shattering with the same crash as Remiel's knocked-down vials. "Uh... is this comfortable for you?"

The baby blinked. Lucien wasn't sure what to do with that, but at least there was no crying. "All right, then?"

Another blink. Was that an infant's 'Yes'? Lucien couldn't guess. He'd never known any infants before Vera's family.

The boy was dark like Vera, but he lacked her sapphire eyes. He didn't have the lighter blues that some of his cousins had either. His were a cloudy, star-like grey that Lucien couldn't place. His own father's? That could have been it. If he didn't even know his father's name, then who was to say what color eyes he had?

He hoisted the baby to his shoulder and rocked slightly as a little hand lost itself in his hair. "You're small. You're not as small as I thought you'd be, but you're still tiny. I wish you could tell me how to avoid breaking you."

A compact foot dug into his torso. Lucien kissed his son's cheek and sighed. "You know, I never had a father. Never had much of a mother either, to be honest. So... sorry if it takes a while for me to learn how to handle you."

The baby gummed at his shoulder. Did that mean he was hungry? Was it best to wake Vera? Lucien wondered if her father or any of her brothers were still downstairs; they'd know better than he did. "See, I don't know what you mean by that. I'm not used to babies. I'm only used to--"

He stopped. He did not want his first conversation with his son to be about Remiel, or at least not any more than it had to be. He could mention any number of other people now--the boy's wonderful mother, his grandfather, his vast armies of aunts and uncles and cousins. There were so many people who cared about him. Why waste breath on anyone else?

"There are a lot of people who love you, you know." The baby made an odd cooing sound. Lucien rubbed his back and indulged him with a light bounce. "No one's going to let anything happen to you."

NEXT CHAPTER: