The first week of his son’s life taught Antony something that ten years of being a Lord, surviving monster attacks, handling food shortages, negotiating with neighboring territories, and occasionally preparing for war had somehow failed to teach him.
He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
The realization came to him sometime during the fourth night when Antony found himself walking in slow circles around the bedroom at three in the morning with a crying infant pressed against his chest, his long golden hair loosely tied behind his head, his shirt half-buttoned, and his eyes burning from exhaustion while Roxanna sat against the headboard looking only marginally better.
"He ate," he muttered, continuing his slow pacing. "He was changed. He’s warm. He’s not sick. He burped. I checked his mana twice. You checked his mana three times. The healer checked his mana this afternoon. What else does he want from us?"
Roxanna yawned behind one hand.
"Perhaps he wants his father to stop interrogating him."
"I’m not interrogating him."
"You asked him what his problem was."
"That was a reasonable question, I think he’s just crying for the sake of it."
"He’s six days old, sweetheart."
"And he has been screaming for twenty minutes. I feel communication is necessary, when will he start talking."
Their son answered by crying louder.
He stared down at him.
"See? He’s refusing to cooperate. My mom used to say children are angels to be around."
Roxanna covered her mouth, but Antony caught the small laugh anyway.
"You think this is funny?"
"A little."
"You haven’t slept either."
"I know."
"You were crying yesterday because you couldn’t find one of his socks, you don’t get to laught at my struggles."
Roxanna’s expression immediately changed.
"It was a very small sock."
"It was underneath him."
"I was tired."
"You accused the maid of losing it."
"I apologized."
"You nearly ordered the entire bedroom searched."
"It was his first pair, I don’t want to lose it so soon."
Antony stared at her for several seconds before shaking his head and looking back down at their son.
The baby had changed considerably from the angry red little creature he remembered being placed into Roxanna’s arms immediately after birth.
His skin had settled into a healthy pale complexion, the wrinkles around his face had softened, and the tiny strands of golden hair across his head had become much more visible.
His eyes were still the most striking thing about him. Whenever he opened them, they were a clear blue almost identical to Roxanna’s, complete with those tiny lights that seemed to move somewhere far beneath the surface like distant stars.
He had been forced to privately reconsider his first assessment. The boy was actually becoming extremely good-looking.
Which Antony supposed was fortunate, because his mother had not forgotten that brief hesitation after the birth.
Roxanna had reminded him twice.
"Come here."
Antony looked toward the bed.
"He’ll start crying again."
"Come here anyway."
He gave up and crossed the room, carefully lowering himself beside her.
She leaned against him almost immediately, resting her head against his shoulder as she reached out and stroked one finger across their son’s cheek.
The crying slowly faded.
Antony stared incredulously his eyes widening.
"What the fuck... he was doing that deliberately."
She smiled tiredly.
"Of course, sweetheart. Our one-week-old son has already developed an elaborate plan to torment you."
"I knew it."
She elbowed him weakly.
"Idiot."
Antony kissed her forehead.
The exhaustion was terrible and the constant worry was worse. But even with almost no sleep, Antony couldn’t remember ever feeling this content.
Almost.
Because every time he looked out the window toward the territory beyond their manor, he remembered the pillar of golden light that had split the sky apart seven days earlier.
And then the contentment became anxiety again.
Nobody knew exactly where the SSS-potential child had been born. The system had protected that information, but protection wasn’t the same as invisibility.
People within hundreds of kilometers could have seen that light. Travelling merchants could talk. Scouts could investigate. Someone would eventually connect the announcement with the phenomenon.
Antony was certain of that.
Which was why, despite his exhaustion, he had barely allowed himself to relax.
Roxanna seemed to notice the moment his thoughts shifted.
Her hand covered his.
"You’re thinking about it again."
He didn’t bother pretending.
"The light."
"Yes."
"Hard not to."
"It has been a week."
"Exactly."
She tilted her head.
"Exactly?"
"If someone saw it from far enough away, they wouldn’t arrive immediately. They’d investigate first. Ask around. Send scouts. Follow the roads. A week is about when I would start expecting strangers."
Roxanna remained quiet.
Antony looked toward her.
"Am I being paranoid?"
"No."
That answer somehow made him feel worse.
She continued, "But panicking won’t help either."
"I’m not panicking."
She quietly stared at him just letting him stew in his thoughts.
Antony sighed.
"I’m panicking quietly."
"Better."
Their son stirred between them, both parents froze. The boy shifted once, then remained asleep.
He lowered his voice immediately.
"He’s finally asleep."
She whispered, "Don’t move."
"My arm is numb."
"That sounds like a personal problem."
"You’re lying on it."
"Exactly. Personal."
Antony stared at her as her eyes slowly started to close.
Five years of marriage had taught him when an argument was unwinnable, so he stayed where he was.
By the seventh morning, Roxanna had recovered enough that even the healers finally stopped hovering over her every few minutes.
Her divine power remained mostly sealed, but physically she looked far better. The exhaustion from childbirth had faded, her complexion had returned, and she was once again moving around the manor rather than being confined to bed.
That morning also marked the day they had agreed to formally reveal their son to the territory.
It wasn’t a naming ceremony... that would come later.
Among the Mist Angels, a brach of the lesser angels, a child’s naming ceremony traditionally happened several weeks after birth, after the family had been given time to recover and after the newborn had safely passed through the most vulnerable period.
Antony and Roxanna had decided on the child’s first-month anniversary.
Three weeks from now.
The revealing ceremony, however, was simpler; the Lord had produced an heir because the territory naturally wanted to see him.
Antony would have preferred approximately twelve more years before showing anyone, but Roxanna had pointed out that keeping the baby completely hidden after the golden light would create far more suspicion.
So Antony reluctantly agreed.