Claude immediately ordered the maids to call every available doctor as he scooped Aubree into his arms and carried her to the bed.
She was already in immense pain, clutching tightly to the bedpost as she fought to regulate her breathing.
He sit on the bedside, holding her trembling hand, but his voice betrayed his panic.
"What are you feeling? Are you dizzy? In pain? Something else?!"
Ironically, it was Claude—the tyrannical King who wipe almost half of the human population—who was unraveling before her eyes.
The baby was arriving earlier than expected. Only a month ahead of schedule, yes, but in a world still woefully underdeveloped in medical knowledge and technology, even a few weeks could spell danger.
If anything went wrong, there were no life-saving drugs or machines to rely on. Only a healing magic thay could heal only psychical wound and not disease.
"Ca-Calm down, Claude," Aubree managed through her clenched teeth.
