Chapter 191 - 191: 6.2 - Smell Of Success
Lady Lily invited Lucian in when he arrived, motioning to the couch in her private room, "Please, have a seat."
Lucian had rescued her from the ruins of the camp. She was also hiding in one of the pits underground. He covered her tracks and took her to the capital city on his way back after the ambush happened.
If he had not found her, she would have died from exposure to the smoke. If not that, then executed by the royal guards. She was one of a few witnesses to the assassination attempt that happened that night, and would be a liability to the culprit.
"I need breast milk, urgently," he said before sitting down.
"..." Lady Lily's gaze shifted from Lucian to the baby and back. "Is that...?"
"My…child," Lucian replied.
She seemed to understand the situation and didn't ask any more questions, "Wait here, I'll get you some."
She was sharp, knew how to read the room, knew how to be secretive, and had a good intuition. That's why Lucian chose her for this task, and not someone else.
Her relationship with Edmund might be a problem, but Lucian knew Edmund was not going to leave the walls of the academy any time soon. The moment he did, the Rochefort army would come and take him away.
Edmund was a valuable study subject for shackleds, after all. Lucian and Celine would welcome any chance of a cure. That's why he had to be kept alive and under supervision.
Lady Lily returned with a bottle full of milk, "Here. It's from one of the sisters, who gave birth a month ago. It's fresh."
"Thank you." Lucian accepted the bottle, waiting for her to leave the room before he could feed his son.
Once alone, he lifted the cloth covering his son's face. "Little one, time to eat."
The room was dimly lit, but the baby's eyes were still closed; his hair was thin, almost not noticeable, which made Lucian think his son would probably inherit his hair color.
That didn't matter, though. What mattered was his eye color, which would determine the child's destiny.
They would raise the child as a commoner if his son had his eyes, but if the boy had her eyes…
If the child had her eyes, it would be proof of the blood flowing through the child's veins. Only the Rocheforts' bloodline had blue eyes. The world would go after the child with their fangs bared.
Even Celine wished the baby's eyes would not be blue, or their son would have to be hidden from the world.
She wasn't joking when she said she would take care of the child alone and only let him visit once in a while; that's only if the child didn't carry the cursed blue eyes.
If it did, the child would have to stay with him to be safe. She wouldn't be able to protect the child, and that hurt her pride.
Lucian pressed the nipple of the bottle against his son's lips and watched the baby have no strength to suckle. He had to squeeze the nipple to get some drops out for the child to swallow.
His son was very weak, already getting exhausted from the feeding.
Lucian watched his son fall asleep after a few gulps and covered his face again, repeating the process after half an hour.
He didn't put him down even for a second, making sure he was warm as if still in his mother's womb.
'She should be sleeping right now...' He wondered how she was faring at the clinic. He wanted to visit her, but couldn't, not until his son could open his eyes.
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Lucian had been in a constant state of restlessness, and his nerves were shot to hell as the feeding session continued.
He couldn't wait anymore and carefully lifted his son's right eyelid.
The baby flinched, his tiny hand moving, and Lucian's heart dropped to the floor at the sight.
Blue.
It was blue.
As blue as the skies, as blue as the oceans, as blue as the ice covering the mountains.
As blue as the Rochefort's curse.
Lucian's arms shook, and he covered his son's face again, his hands hovering in the air, unsure what to do.
He couldn't even leave him in another person's care and go to work. He had to feed him himself, make sure he didn't die in the care of a stranger. Not with those eyes.
Lucian took out his ledger and wrote a note to Celine, telling her the "good" news. He would leave it there on his way to the south.
The note would have a blue ribbon attached to it.
The baby left a soft cry before falling asleep in exhaustion again.
Lucian hugged his son to his chest and tried not to weep for their future.
It was a miracle the baby had been born alive at all. He should be grateful for that, but his mind couldn't stop replaying the moment when his son had opened his eyes, and the world had suddenly become a lot more dangerous.
Lucian was afraid to go to sleep and let the night pass in a daze.
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The next morning, Lucian washed his face with one hand, the other still holding his child. He was in desperate need of a shower and a shave, but his son decided changing his diaper was the most important task he should be doing at the moment.
It was the first time his son needed his diaper changed. Lucian's eyes sparkled with happiness. It meant that his son was alive, was eating, and was able to defecate on his own.
He was doing great, and Lucian was a happy dad. His son was also a stinky one, and Lucian was a tired dad.
"Oof...this is the smell of success," he said as he tried to change his son's diaper while holding his breath. The smell wasn't bad, and there wasn't a lot of waste. "You could do better, but I'll take it. You'll have plenty of opportunities to show off in the future."
The child didn't appreciate his humor and cried softly with his eyes closed, demanding a faster service.
"Patience is a virtue, my dear son. You should learn that soon. Your mother doesn't have it, so you'd better inherit it from me," he washed and dried his son, wrapping a new diaper around him.
He had seen Karoline handle her kids' business, and Lucian swore that her children must have been made out of rubber with how not gentle she was with them.
He was afraid that if he did it similarly, his son would be torn apart like paper and become one with the wind.
'Let's see if we can visit your mother today,' he thought as he dressed his son in a new onesie and wrapped him in a warm blanket. It was going to be a cold day.