CHAPTER 123: CHAPTER 122. AFTER BIRTH

The midwife brought the baby out for a moment so Roxanne would know the delivery was over. The child is healthy and breathing strong, and Vivianne has begun her recovery. The healers could do very little; everyone inside the room knew a far greater power had been wrapped around their empress from the very beginning.

That soft, bluish radiance, Undine’s essence—still flowed around Vivianne like a protective tide. It shimmered faintly, lifting the hairs on their arms. They had never seen anything like it.

The moment the baby was delivered, the bleeding slowed, the torn flesh knitted, and Vivianne’s body began healing on its own. Normally it took three trained healers to close a birth wound. This time, the spirit did it with a single breath of power.

Roxanne stared at the bundle of warmth in the midwife’s arms. The baby is still streaked with blood, but her tiny face glows with life. Morwenna leaned in, eyes widening in delight.

"Oh, she looks so much like you," she breathed.

"Really?" Roxanne asked, unable to hide her excitement.

"Yes. Now go—your wife is waiting. Give me my grandchild." Morwenna said, ready to take the baby to her arm.

Roxanne carefully handed her daughter to her mother, then rushed into the delivery room. She stopped the moment she saw Vivianne lying on the bed. Blood stained the sheets, her skin pale as moonlight, yet she no longer looked as if she were suffering. She simply looked exhausted and breathtaking.

Roxanne dropped to her knees beside the bed. "Move to the other side," she muttered to Undine. Undine rolled her eyes, shimmering with annoyance but shifting her position anyway.

"Wait—our Emperor can see the spirits?" One of the healers whispered, startled.

The head midwife nodded once and made a firm shushing gesture, then ushered the healers out. The remaining midwives and maids stepped in to clean the room while giving the empress and emperor space.

"Hey," Roxanne said softly, her voice stripped of all the dominance she carried everywhere else.

"Hey," Vivianne whispered back, lifting a shaky hand to touch Roxanne’s face. Her fingertips brushed over smudges of tears, sweat, and panic. "I’m the one who gave birth... So why do you look like the one who got dragged through a battlefield?"

"I was worried," Roxanne admitted, gripping her hand as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I was giving birth, wife," Vivianne murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "No one was hurting me."

She shifted weakly. "Come here. Hug me. I’m too tired to reach for you."

Roxanne leaned down immediately, gathering Vivianne into her arms with a care so fierce it nearly shook her. She moved slowly, terrified of causing even the slightest discomfort, though Vivianne’s body, still surrounded by the faint, dissolving shimmer of Undine’s power, seemed steadier than any new mother should be.

Vivianne sighed against her, exhausted but safe, her face buried in the crook of Roxanne’s neck as though that alone anchored her to the world. "Don’t let go," she whispered, though her fingers curled into Roxanne’s tunic as if she didn’t want to let go.

"I won’t," Roxanne murmured, voice cracking. "Never."

Around them, the midwives moved swiftly, stripping away blood-soaked linens and wiping the last traces of birth from the stone and wood. Maids hurried in with steaming buckets, filling the deep bathing tub with warm water infused with calming herbs—lavender, sage, and a faint sweetness favored by palace healers. Soft steam curled upward, warming the chilled air and softening the harsh scent of iron.

Afrit stood over the rising water with a deep frown, clearly displeased. The maids were startled when the surface suddenly began to evaporate, thinking something had gone wrong. Because they can’t see the king spirits hovering above the water in the tub. Afrit’s expression said that he simply refused to let Vivianne be washed in ordinary water.

With a sharp flick of heat, he signaled Undine, who stepped forward in a shimmer of blue. The spirit queen lifted her hands, and crystalline water poured into the tub from thin air, pure, luminous, and threaded with her healing power.

Terranova followed, weaving in her own chosen herbs, earthy and grounding, the scent blossoming through the room. Afrit then coaxed gentle heat through the water, warming it to the perfect temperature with a single breath of flame.

The maids could do nothing but stare, wide-eyed and breathless, watching the tub transform before them without ever glimpsing the true forms of the spirit kings who performed the miracle. Only the effects—the glow, the warmth, the impossible fragrance—spoke of their presence.

Meanwhile, Tempest swept through the chamber like a soft breeze, spreading a warm, comforting current through the air, chasing away the last shivers from Vivianne’s skin, and settling the room into a state of peaceful warmth.

But Roxanne didn’t look at any of them. Her entire universe existed in the fragile weight of Vivianne’s body pressed against her chest, in the trembling breaths her wife released, and in the quiet strength that radiated from her even in utter exhaustion.

Vivianne shifted slightly, wincing, though the pain is dull now, more memory than reality. "You should... go see our daughter again," she murmured, but she didn’t pull away.

"I will," Roxanne whispered into her hair, tightening the embrace for one more precious moment. "But you first. Always you first."

Vivianne let out a tired laugh, brushing her cheek against Roxanne’s collarbone. "You’re being dramatic."

"I thought I was going to lose my mind," Roxanne confessed in a breath so soft it barely stirred the air. "Do you know how hard it was not to break down that door?"

Vivianne’s smile was faint but genuine, her lashes fluttering as exhaustion tugged at her. "I can tell. But I also had the spirit kings to hold you down before you did something you’d regret later."

"I know." Roxanne leaned in and pressed a trembling kiss to Vivianne’s forehead, lingering there for a heartbeat as if grounding herself.

The maids tried not to stare, though every single one of them failed miserably. The sight of the emperor, still kneeling on blood-stained tiles, cradling her Luna as though she were made of moonlight and glass, would be whispered about for generations.

No alpha behaved like this. No alpha knelt. Yet Roxanne did, without hesitation, without pride, and without a shred of the arrogance that defined so many before her.

One of the midwives approached carefully, bowing her head. "Your Highness... the bath is ready. We’ll assist the Empress whenever she’s prepared."

Roxanne nodded, brushing her thumb along Vivianne’s jaw, memorizing her warmth, her softness, and the relief settling into her features. "Can you stand?" she asked, though her arms were already adjusting to lift her.

"Only if you carry me," Vivianne teased weakly.

"As if I’d let anyone else touch you," Roxanne replied, slipping one arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back.

Roxanne gathered Vivianne into her arms with slow, deliberate care, mindful of every tremor in her wife’s exhausted body. Vivianne looped her arms around Roxanne’s neck without hesitation. She breathed against Roxanne’s shoulder, warm and fragile, her scent faint beneath the lingering traces of blood and herbs.

"I’ll bathe her," Roxanne said, her voice steady but quiet. "You all may clean the room and the bed."

"Yes, Your Highness," the midwives and maids replied, bowing before they retreated to their tasks.

Roxanne rose with Vivianne in her arms, moving toward the large bathing tub glowing faintly with Undine’s healing water. Steam curled around them like soft ribbons, carrying the scents of Terranova’s chosen forest herbs. The warmth in the room shifted subtly, Tempest’s gentle current keeping the air comfortable, and Afrit’s lingering heat balancing the cool magic of Undine.

Vivianne whimpered once when Roxanne lowered her toward the water, from raw exhaustion. Roxanne kissed her temple. "I’ve got you," she murmured. "It’s warm. It won’t hurt."

As the water touched her skin, Vivianne exhaled, a long, shuddering breath that loosened the tension in her spine. The blue glow of Undine’s magic rippled outward across the surface, caressing her like a second pair of hands.

Roxanne knelt beside the tub, rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. Her hands entered the water, steady and reverent. She brushed damp strands of hair from Vivianne’s forehead before gently cupping water over her shoulders and her collarbones, letting it run in soft streams down the curves and hollows of her body.

The changes startled her.

Vivianne’s belly, still round and still tender, is smaller now, but the memories of their daughter’s presence lingered in the shape of it. Roxanne touched the curve lightly with her thumb, breath catching. "You did so well," she whispered, barely audible.

Blood still drifted from Vivianne in thin ribbons, swirling through Undine’s healing water before dissolving into faint blue sparks. It’s natural; Roxanne knew it and had been warned countless times, but seeing the blood of someone she loved more than her own life tugged something fierce and primal in her chest.

Vivianne felt the shift and opened her eyes, weak but steady. "Don’t look at me like I’m breaking," she murmured.

"You’re not," Roxanne said, voice thick. "You’re... incredible."

She washed Vivianne’s arms slowly, tracing each line as though she were committing them to memory. Her hands moved lower, to her waist, her hips, and the tender swell of her belly, never once rushing. Vivianne leaned into every touch, fingers curling over Roxanne’s forearm, grounding herself.

The water lapped quietly. The room around them hummed with respectful silence as the staff cleaned in the background, pretending not to witness the emperor tending to her empress with such devotion.

Roxanne cupped water into her hands again and let it trickle down Vivianne’s back, murmuring, "Tell me if it hurts."

Vivianne shook her head softly. "It doesn’t. Not when it’s you."

Roxanne’s heart crumpled, full and aching. She washed Vivianne until every trace of blood had been lifted from her skin, until the water shone clear again, until her mate sighed and melted into the warmth, safe, cherished, and whole.

Roxanne worked slowly and carefully, as though Vivianne were made of something finer than porcelain. Once the bath was done and the warm water had soothed the tremors from Vivianne’s limbs, Roxanne wrapped her in soft towels—thick, warm, and freshly heated by Afrit’s lingering magic. Vivianne relaxed into her arms, head resting against Roxanne’s chest, breath soft and uneven from exhaustion rather than pain.

"I want to see our daughter," she whispered, barely louder than the steam still drifting off her skin.

"We will," Roxanne murmured, pressing a kiss to damp hair. "My mother is helping the midwife tend to her."

Roxanne carried her to the freshly made bed, its linens changed, its scent clean with herbs and warm cloth. The midwives approached respectfully, bowing their heads before assisting. They brought out thick, folded cloth pads, soft layers of boiled linen stitched together, designed to catch the bleeding that naturally followed birth.

Such cloths are common for noblewomen, washed and reused, far sturdier than ordinary rags, and absorbent enough to handle the heavy flow of a healing womb. The midwives slid the pad gently between Vivianne’s thighs, securing it with a soft band of cloth tied around her hips.

Vivianne didn’t flinch; she’s too tired, too trusting, and too focused on Roxanne, whose hands never left her for more than a breath.

Roxanne then helped her into a fresh nightdress, thin, airy, and loose enough to avoid brushing her abdomen. Her fingers moved with surprising tenderness for someone so feared, lifting Vivianne’s arms, guiding the fabric down her body, and smoothing it carefully around her shoulders.

When Vivianne swayed slightly, Roxanne steadied her, whispering, "I’ve got you. Always."

Finally settled against the pillows, Vivianne exhaled, eyes fluttering half-open. "Bring her to me when she’s ready..." she murmured.

And Roxanne, brushing a thumb along her cheek, answered softly, "I promise."