Her pregnancy had sealed almost everything.
The child growing within her had developed his own mana channels months before birth. Normally an infant’s mana would remain negligible until several years later, but their son had been different from the beginning.
He possessed mana already, far too much of it.
And now, during birth, the child’s instincts were searching for the energy necessary to support his body through the process.
The closest source was his mother.
Antony felt something pull hard moment his mana entered Roxanna.
His eyes opened.
"Oh."
She immediately noticed.
"You felt him?"
"Yes."
Despite her exhaustion, amusement entered her eyes.
"Greedy little thing, isn’t he?"
"He’s not even born and he’s already stealing from me."
"From us."
"That’s worse."
The midwife glanced back at him. "Maintain the flow, my Lord."
Antony focused.
His mana moved steadily through her body, spreading through the channels still available beneath her seal. At first the flow was smooth, but then another pull came from deeper within her as the child absorbed it.
He released more.
Roxanna’s breathing steadied slightly.
"There."
She rested her head against his shoulder.
"That feels better."
He pressed a kiss against her damp hair.
"Take whatever you need."
Her fingers found his.
"I intend to."
The first hour passed slowly, the second felt twice as long, by the third, Antony no longer knew what time it was.
He remained behind Roxanna, continuously cycling his mana into her body while the healers periodically restored some of what he lost using potions and recovery spells.
Every time he thought they were close, the midwife said they needed more time. Every time Roxanna relaxed, another contraction came.
Her cries became hoarser while hisnerves became worse.
At one point he looked at the midwife and asked, "Why is this taking so long?"
She didn’t look away from what she was doing.
"Because childbirth takes time."
"Nobody thought to mention that."
Roxanna groaned against him.
"I mentioned it."
"You said it could take several hours."
"That is what several hours means."
"I thought you meant like two."
Roxanna actually turned her head enough to look at him.
"Why would you think several means two?"
"Because two is already too many."
The midwife sighed.
"My Lord."
"Yes?"
"You are distracting her."
Roxanna immediately said, "No, let him keep talking."
He looked down at her. She closed her eyes again.
"It helps."
His expression softened.
"Then I’ll talk."
"Please."
So he did.
He talked about absolutely everything. He told her Gerard was apparently still gambling on the Demon and Nephilim war.
She murmured, "Again?"
"Again."
"That man is going to lose his house."
"His wife won’t let him."
"Yeah."
"I told them our western watchtower is structurally damaged."
"It is."
"They disagree."
"Then let them stand beneath it during the next storm."
Antony chuckled.
"I knew there was a reason I married you."
"You married me because I’m beautiful."
"That too."
"Mostly because I’m beautiful."
"You’re currently crushing my fingers."
"Tell me I’m wrong."
"You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen."
She gave a satisfied hum.
"Correct answer."
Another wave of pain hit her and her grip tightened. Antony stopped smiling and immediately increased his mana flow.
"I’m here."
Roxanna gasped.
"I know."
"I’m right here."
"Don’t...don’t stop."
"I won’t."
He didn’t.
The fourth hour became the worst. Something changed with the child’s mana.
Antony felt the pull become stronger, and suddenly the amount he had been supplying was no longer enough. Roxanna cried out as the pain increased.
The magical lamps flickered.
"What happened?"
The midwife’s head snapped toward one of the healers.
"His mana is surging."
His heart stopped.
"Is he all right?"
"The child is stable, but his core is reacting to the birth."
"What does that mean?"
"It means give her more."
Antony did, mana rushed from his core far too quickly. His vision blurred for an instant.
Roxanna immediately felt it.
"Antony, slow down."
"No."
"Sweetheart."
"No."
"You’re draining yourself."
"As long as it helps."
She looked up at him.
"Antony."
"You’ve been carrying him for months. I can handle being tired for one afternoon."
Her eyes softened despite the pain.
"You stubborn man."
"You married me."
"I did."
"That sounds like poor judgment on your part."
"It probably was."
He kissed the side of her head.
"Too late now."
The healers exchanged a glance but wisely kept their expressions neutral.
The next hour was chaos.
Antony remembered pieces of it more clearly than others.
The midwife telling Roxanna to push. Her screaming something into Antony’s shoulder that he was reasonably sure would have frightened several of the priests who worshipped her.
Him repeatedly promising that everything was fine while having absolutely no evidence supporting his statement.
A healer telling him his mana reserves were approaching a dangerous level. Antony telling the healer he didn’t care.
Roxanna immediately telling him that she cared and that if he passed out during the birth she would personally wake him up just to kill him.
Then finally...
"My Lady, again!"
Roxanna screamed as Antony felt the mana inside her suddenly shift.
A brilliant golden light flashed across the room. Every formation carved into the walls activated simultaneously and the windows rattled.
Outside, somewhere beyond the manor, bells began ringing. It was bot the manor bells ir even the settlement bells but something deeper.
Something that seemed to resonate through the air itself.
Then a sound cut through everything.
A baby’s cry.
Antony froze. For several seconds he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t even properly process what he had heard.
Then the midwife laughed.
"My Lord. My Lady."
Roxanna sagged backward against Antony.
The midwife lifted the tiny child carefully.
"Your son."
His eyes widened as he stared at the child.
Their son was very red.
His tiny face was scrunched up in outrage at being brought into existence, his arms were moving without any apparent coordination, and a thin layer of damp golden hair covered the top of his head.
Antony had imagined this moment dozens of times, perhaps hundreds. In every version, his son had looked majestic; an impossibly beautiful divine infant or a tiny Angel prince.
This child looked like an angry, wrinkled fruit.
Antony stared for another second.
That’s...not particularly pretty.
He immediately felt guilty for thinking it.
Roxanna weakly lifted her head.
"Let me see him."