I’m a mother.
The first time I saw them stretch out their tiny hands and feet, fingers and toes so thin they could have been spun from straw, I felt something shift inside me. I never really understood what people meant by 'love at first sight' until that moment. Suddenly, it made sense. All those months of uncertainty and waiting were rewarded, and then, in a single heartbeat, I was hopelessly, completely in love.
Their hair was as white as mine, spun into wispy curls that seemed to shimmer in the light, like silken threads. Their cheeks were round and impossibly soft, flushed with the rose of newborn warmth. But it was their eyes that set them apart: hers a soft, almost translucent pink, wide and sparkling, his a deep, stormy purple, big and curious, both gazing up with an innocence so pure it felt otherworldly. Even in this different world, hair and eye colors were still rather subdued; they would stand out wherever they went. I suppose that was always going to be their fate. Children of noble blood are meant to be noticed, to be recognized and bowed to, even by strangers who only know the rules of power. Still, I couldn't help but worry that, even among their own, they'd always be a little too different, a little too easy to spot.
While I worried about unhatched eggs again, Janus was all smiles. Forgotten were the tears he shed out of fright, now replaced with a grin that threatened to stay forever. Proudly, he held them out to me like they were the most precious thing in the world, and I couldn't disagree. They looked so perfect, so innocent, so helpless, so cute; my heart was beyond melting. He handed them to me, laying their skin against mine. I could feel their tiny, fast hearts and their still hot skin. They settled almost at once, latching on with a desperate, clumsy hunger, and I felt the first rush of milk, sharp and strange and a little painful.
It was a strange sensation, almost alien at first, then quickly turning sharp and sore. I knew we’d have to train this more. I could, of course, cheat again and use a bit of healing magic, but I wouldn’t always be the one feeding them. I couldn’t always be there, as much as I wanted to. They’d have to learn, for Emma’s sake as much as mine. Though at least I could easily rid myself of any soreness once they were full.
Thankfully, that was when Benjamin and Seymour would excuse themselves, and even the rest of the family would go back to bed, giving our new, happy family a temporary moment of peace.
Sadly, I couldn’t just fall asleep on the spot; I still had things to do. After the twins had finished their first meal, I cut the umbilical cord once it had fully turned white. After that, I discreetly took care of the afterbirth by just getting rid of it with death magic. While I was at it, I also removed the remaining umbilical cord and formed their belly buttons. Though the one thing I couldn’t take care of was the bed. The bedding had been completely ruined and would have to be taken out. What I wouldn’t give for something like cleansing magic to exist, sigh… maybe one day.
With the bed a lost cause, we gathered ourselves and wandered to Janus’s room, a place I’d somehow never set foot in until now.
My own room was cozy and soft, all shades of red, but looking back, it felt a little empty. Janus’s room was a different world, messy but not dirty, every piece of furniture matching but half-buried under a lifetime of treasures. It reminded me of Rika’s room, only everything here was a little more polished, a little more expensive. On his well-used desk, a tiny wooden horse with a knight's lance snapped, paint chipped, stood guard beside scattered stones and rough gemstones. A painting of Janus and his parents hung on the wall, his father’s face hidden behind a woven carpet showing a knight locked in battle with a dragon. There were more carpets, rolled up in a basket, and another basket overflowing with battered wooden swords and dulled training blades. A bear pelt, claws and head still attached, sprawled in front of the fireplace, so huge it nearly swallowed half the room. The walls were crowded with trophies, monsters, and animals alike, frozen mid-roar, their mouths displaying sharp teeth. Books with cracked spines and loose pages leaned together on a little table, next to a bowl of uncracked nuts and a giant leather armchair. In the corner, a potted plant with leaves bigger than my head tried to claim its own space, probably taken care of entirely by the maids. The chessboard I’d gifted him sat on his nightstand, stacked on top of others, pieces frozen mid-battle. The Reds were winning, but their queen was stranded deep in enemy lines. There were so many trinkets and keepsakes, I couldn’t even guess at half their stories.
Standing there, I realized how cold and bare my own room seemed in comparison. I could picture a much younger Janus, just like in that painting, running around this room, slaying imaginary dragons with a wooden toy sword in his small hands. It was another quiet reminder that I was still an outsider here, a visitor in a world Janus had always belonged to, surrounded by the memories and mementos of a life I could only glimpse from the outside.
While I wandered through this new space, Janus was busy with the twins, who were already tugging at his collar with greedy little hands, as if they hadn’t just eaten. Not that they’d find anything there.
We sat together on the bed, still a little stunned by our luck, two healthy babies, when so many aren’t so fortunate. Even Janus had lost a baby brother, even with a healing mage present. Maybe that’s why he’d been so afraid. I’d have to ask him someday, but not today. I didn’t want to weigh down this fragile happiness. Just for tonight, I wanted us to be nothing but happy.
Not long after, Emma arrived with her mother, Adelheid, both of them beaming as they carried in a crib for the twins. They didn’t linger, just set the crib down beside the bed and wrapped the babies up tight in soft towels, like little burritos. The twins were already drifting off in Janus’s arms, leaving a trail of drool on his shirt.
I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, not with my heart still racing and everything so new. But with Janus spooning me, his warmth pressed close, and my hand slipped between the crib’s bars to rest near the twins, I finally let myself drift into dreamland.