A Kiss of Fire (A Kiss of Magic #2)(110)

He grabbed for the handle of the door, determined to go inside the bedroom…but again he let go, as he had over a dozen times already. He was not a superstitious man by nature, but in this case it was better to be safe than sorry. In Saren they were not so mired down in such traditions. Men chose whether or not they wanted to attend the birth in close quarters. And yet hundreds of healthy births occurred yearly.

This was nonsense. Superstitious nonsense.

But if he were to go in and something were to happen…he would never forgive himself.

But if something were to happen and he was not there for his wife, he would never forgive himself.

Lindo stood up from the chair he had been sitting in, walked over to the small sideboard where a glass decanter of hussa sat gleaming its amethyst color in the firelight. It was only just turning cold enough to have a fire these early days of fall. It had been a scorching summer, unheard of heat, and Ariana had been incredibly uncomfortable in her last heavy months of pregnancy. Lindo poured two fingers of hussa into two glasses and walked to hand one to Sin. Sin stared at the offering blankly for a long moment.

“Go on. It’ll settle your nerves.”

He took the glass and downed the hussa in two large swallows. He handed the glass back to Lindo.

“More?” he asked, offering him his glass as well.

Sin took it and it followed the same path down his throat.

“More?”

“No. I’ll not be,” —he belched— “drunk when I meet my child.”

“Two glasses of hussa in under a minute, you might not have a choice,” Lindo said with a chuckle.

“It takes more than that to put me under the table,” Sin said dryly. But then he said, “but I do feel better. Thank you. You are a good and loyal friend Lindo.”

“So are you,” Lindo said, reaching to clasp Sin’s shoulder with his hand. “And you’re a good man. A great leader. I would follow you anywhere.”

“For that I am infinitely grateful. Without you we would never have gotten a foothold in our negotiations with the Sarens. They would have known our precarious position from the very beginning and negotiated us down to just a few acres of land. Your strength of mind as a Jadoc kept their Aspano majji from reading us. I will never forget that. I will never let our people forget it. In fact, I have been meaning to tell you…I would like to make a gift of land to you. Large enough that if worked right, if filled with tenant farmers, could make you a wealthy man for the rest of your days and on down into your line.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lindo said quietly.

“I know I don’t but I want to. And you deserve it. And I want to make you rojo.”

“Sin—“ he began to protest.

“Ariana would be raji-mother if I were to die before my heir was of age, but she would need a rojo…a protector. I trust no one else in the role.”

“You honor me,” Lindo said, looking honestly humbled. “But in a sense I am already rojo…for you. I am already the protector of my leader.”

“But you have never been given the official title. It is high time you had it.”

“I accept.”

“We will have the ceremony after we have the naming ceremony for my child.” He frowned. “If that child ever plans to make an appearance.”

“I’ve known these things to take days,” Lindo said.

Sin sent him a withering look. “Don’t even joke about such a thing. She’s been at this for,” –he glanced at the clock on the mantle— “thirteen hours. Any longer and one of us will need a gallon of hussa to keep calm.”

Then Sin went still, suddenly realizing it had grown quiet on the other side of the door. He anxiously walked up to it and pressed his ear to it. No sooner had he done this then the door opened, startling the raja. He hastened to compose himself and looked down into the smiling face of the midwife. She was flushed and her sleeves were rolled up onto her forearms. She wore an apron over her dress and Sin saw blood smeared across its beige expanse. He swallowed hard and in a croaking voice demanded, “Is she well? Has Ariana…is she well?”

“She is well! Come and meet your new child.”

She swung the door wide and stepped back, allowing him to enter the room. He hastened to the bedside, at first ignoring the doctor who held a quiet infant in his arms. He went to Ariana who was already tidied up in a fresh nightgown and bed linens. She looked exhausted, her eyes drooping as if ready for sleep.

“Are you well, love?” he asked her anxiously, sitting on the bed beside her, facing her. He touched cool fingers to her warm face and she smiled at him wearily.

“I am well. But your son took the long way home it seemed.”

“My…my son?” he echoed dumbly.

Ariana held out her hands and the doctor placed the infant into her arms. She situated him so his father could see his wrinkled face in amongst the finery of the ceremonial swaddling.

“Your son. Raj Alexsander. As we agreed, yes?”

“Yes,” Sin said, suddenly feeling the effects of the hussa…or something like it. He could barely focus on the infant his heart was racing so madly. Then he reached out and touched his baby’s soft cheek. He immediately began to cry and Sin snatched his hand back as if he had been burned.

“Did I hurt him?” he asked, panicked.