Page 28 of The Thornwyck Rose

Seren looked half-alive—yet still as beautiful and youth-filled as the first day he saw her.

Before Father Osbert could object to his presence, the midwife told Erik to sit and hold the child until they finished with Seren.

So he sat in silence, holding the child with both hands, watching Seren’s chest rise and fall—slowly, stubbornly, like someone refusing to let go. Maybe that was why he admired her so much; she was a fighter and would remain so until the end.

But at Father Osbert’s glare, he looked away from his lord’s wife and found a single yellow bloom beneath the glass by her bedside. She’d kept it, and his lips twitched. They meant something to her, too, though he wondered where the second one was. Perhaps it had already faded, and he hoped it wasn’t an omen that Seren, too, would fade.

The baby screamed, so he stroked the boy’s cheek. His tiny little chest beat fast as he rooted for Erik’s finger. It reminded him of holding Ragnar as a baby. It was the proudest moment of his life, but Henry had tossed his son aside when he became too loud.

“There,” the midwife said and stood, and wiped her hands on her long robe. She adjusted Seren’s legs and covered her, as she announced, “Bleeding’s stopped, finally. The lady will likely live.”

She came and plucked the boy from Erik’s arms, causing him to cry again, and rolled him onto Seren’s chest.

Seren’s eyes fluttered open at the screaming weight dropped on her.

Erik wondered how long he could stay before someone told him to leave. He caught Margot glance at him, but she said nothing.

The baby latched, and the midwife shoved Seren’s hair back over her forehead. “Rest, milady. I will help you tonight, but you will need to gain your strength back to hold this one. He’s a big boy, given his early birth.”

Seren moaned before rolling her head back. That was the moment she caught Erik in sight. Her eyes widened, but then relaxed. A small smile came over her lips before she let out a relaxed exhale and closed her eyes again.

Her reaction to his presence carved a piece of his heart out for Seren. But with that, he glanced at Margot still scrubbingblood from the floors, hoping she would keep to her sworn word, for Ragnar’s sake.

In the silence, he saw the baby, red-faced, pressed against Seren's breast, and Seren’s pale lips parted in exhaustion. He thought of the way her eyes had softened when she saw him there in the room. And he knew, with a clarity he hadn’t had before:

Serenmustlive.

Because her son needed her—needed the mother, the parent, the love that Henry could never be or provide or had as a child. If she died, Erik feared what kind of man Seren’s son would become.

What kind of boy Ragnar might become, shaped by violence and fear.

“Commander de Montfort,” Father Osbert said, interrupting his thoughts. “You may leave now . . . unless Lord Henry gives further instructions?”

Erik stood and shook his head. “I was only to report that the child was eating, the mother is alive, and that she teaches him silence. And I see it has been done.” Then he left without another word or backward glance and returned to the great hall as commanded.

“Ah, there he is. I was about to send the servant boy to fetch you,” Lord Henry said with a chuckle. “How does the Lady de Thornwyck fare?”

“She is tired, weak, but alive and feeding your son while teaching him silence as you ordered,” Erik said.

Henry’s grin wavered, and he blinked a few times.

Erik suppressed his joy at witnessing Henry’s burn at the mention that Seren was alive.

“Well, very good,” Henry said with a too-wide smile. He rubbed his lip. “I suppose our Lady is favored by God, after all.”

Erik gave a curt nod, realizing that was why Henry wanted to remove her.

Seren was safe from his reach if she was favored by God in the eyes of the nobility and the people, and even the church’s highestorder. Maybe that was why he tried to mock her, but every prayer she prayed had been answered. And Henry, by trying to disprove her, had called attention to that fact. Her prayers were known throughout the surrounding villages and keeps, all the way to Norfolk in the East and the royal White Tower in London.

Seren wielded more power than she knew, and in Lord Henry’s world, women weren’t allowed to wield anything at all.

XII

THE TREASURED GIFT

THORNWYCK KEEP, JUNE 1086

Erik had been senton another two-month campaign to the north and had returned successfully, and under an expressionless face, was relieved to see both Seren and the child lived.