Extra Chapter 16 – The First Fever (POV Rhydian)
The night was still, the moon casting silver light through the windows of the royal chambers. It should have been a peaceful night, the kind where I could finally rest with Luna beside me, our daughter safe in her crib.
But peace shattered the moment I heard the first whimper.
Aurora's cry was different tonight—not the soft, sleepy whine she sometimes made when she wanted comfort, nor the insistent demand of hunger. It was weak and uneven, breaking in the middle as if even the effort to cry was too much.
I was on my feet before I even realized I had moved.
Luna stirred beside me. "Rhydian?" Her voice was thick with sleep.
"Aurora," I murmured, already making my way to the crib.
She was curled in on herself, her tiny fists clenched, her cheeks unnaturally flushed. When I touched her forehead, heat seared against my palm.
Too hot.
Too wrong.
"Luna." My voice was sharp, fear curling around my ribs. "She has a fever."
Luna was already moving, her exhaustion forgotten. She reached for Aurora, her fingers brushing against our daughter's overheated skin.
The moment Aurora whimpered again, something inside me cracked.
I had faced war.
I had looked into the eyes of men who wanted me dead and not once felt this kind of terror.
"She's burning up," I muttered, unable to stop my hands from hovering over her, wanting to do something—anything—but not knowing how.
Luna took a slow breath, pressing a kiss to Aurora's damp forehead. "We need cool cloths. I'll call the royal healer."
"I'll go," I said immediately, already turning toward the door.
"Rhydian." Luna caught my wrist, stopping me. Her touch was grounding, but it did nothing to calm the wildfire spreading in my chest.
"She's sick," I bit out. "We need to do something—"
"And we will," Luna said, her voice steady even as her own worry darkened her eyes. "But you need to breathe. Panic won't help her."
I clenched my jaw, but I nodded.
Because she was right.
Because she was always right.
I left to summon the healer, my mind a blur of worst-case scenarios.
The healer arrived within minutes, an elderly woman with sharp eyes and sure hands. Luna hovered nearby, her fingers never leaving Aurora as the healer examined her.
I stood at the foot of the bed, useless.
I should have been able to protect her.
I had built this kingdom on the foundation of my strength, my ability to crush anything that threatened what was mine. But what use was my strength against this?
"She's fighting a fever," the healer finally said, voice calm. "Her body is learning to fight illness. It's normal for babies."
"Normal," I echoed hollowly.
Luna nodded, as if reassuring herself as much as me. "What do we do?"
"Keep her cool. Make sure she's drinking. The fever should break by morning."
"Should?" The word tasted bitter on my tongue.
The healer gave me a knowing look. "She is strong, Your Majesty. Just like her parents. Trust her to fight."
I hated that there was nothing else to be done.
I hated that I couldn't fix this.
But I nodded anyway.
We didn't sleep.
Luna held Aurora against her chest, whispering soothing words even as exhaustion tugged at her. I paced, watching, waiting, feeling like my own body was made of restless energy with nowhere to go.
Every time Aurora let out the smallest whimper, my heart clenched.
She was so small.
So fragile.
And yet she was mine.
At some point in the night, Luna dozed off, her body curled protectively around Aurora. I didn't wake her.
Instead, I sat beside them, my hand resting lightly over Aurora's back, feeling the too-warm rise and fall of her breaths.
"I would fight the gods for you," I whispered, voice barely more than a breath. "You know that, don't you?"
Aurora didn't stir.
I closed my eyes.
This was worse than war.
Worse than any battle.
Because at least on the battlefield, I knew how to fight back.
But here, in this quiet room with the weight of helplessness pressing against my ribs, I had never felt more afraid.
Dawn broke, golden light spilling into the room.
Aurora stirred against Luna, her breathing lighter, more even. I reached out, pressing my palm gently to her forehead—
Cool.
I let out a breath, one I hadn't realized I was holding.
Luna woke then, blinking sleepily before her eyes darted to Aurora. She sat up instantly, her fingers brushing over our daughter's face.
"She's cooler," I murmured.
Luna pressed her lips together, relief flooding her expression. She leaned down, kissing Aurora's soft cheek. "She's okay."
And just like that, the weight pressing against my chest finally lifted.
I sat back against the headboard, running a hand over my face. "That was the longest night of my life."
Luna gave me a small, tired smile. "Welcome to parenthood, my love."
I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head.
I had led armies, claimed victory in the most brutal wars.
And yet, nothing had ever been as terrifying as holding my daughter through her first fever.
Nothing had ever mattered more.