Morwenna entered the room with the smile of a mother plastered on her face; she walked softly to Vivianne, feeling proud and understanding toward her daughter-in-law. In her arms, wrapped in a soft white blanket trimmed with gold, is the smallest and brightest miracle the Empire had ever hoped for.
The newborn is clean now, with no trace of blood remaining, her skin flushed a gentle rose. The midwives had already cut and tended the umbilical cord, sealing it carefully with a salve of warmed resin and healing herbs. A faint, sweet scent followed her—new life, warm milk, and the lingering touch of Undine's blessing still sparkling faintly against her skin.
Morwenna stepped toward the bed. "She's ready," she said softly, her voice thick with pride she didn't bother to hide. "Your daughter is strong."
