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Gareth the Younger of Naxen
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Gary paced outside the door. Inside he could hear the cries of his laboring wife.
He'd never felt so terrified before. This lady, Cythera, the woman he had spent every day with for the past ten years, was in grave danger of dying. The healers had known from early on that it would be a difficult birth.
Gary had wanted to stay at her side, but in his anxiety he caused more worry and comfort. He was sent away to await the birth outside. And so he paced.
Her cries grew louder. Midwives came and went from the room, bringing herbs and clean linens. But Duke Baird stayed with Cythera.
If she died, Gary didn't know what he would do.
At last he heard the cry of a newborn babe. He sprinted to the door, yanking it open. Duke Baird looked up at him, relief present in his eyes. He placed a tiny bundle in Cythera's arms.
"My lord, you have a beautiful daughter," she said weakly. After the new mother and daughter were cleaned up, Baird left the small family.
Gary perched on the bed beside his wife. She looked ashamed.
"We can't- I mean- we mustn't- The Duke said that I can't have any more children," she said quietly. Gary looked at her, surprised.
"My dear, you shouldn't worry about that right now. Look at our baby." Cythera smiled vaguely as she stroked her daughter's check with her thumb.
"But she's not a boy- you won't have an heir," she insisted. Gary looked at Cythera. His heart ached for his wife. She was very much in love with her daughter, and yet she still felt a desire to give him a son.
He reached down to give Cythera a passionate kiss. Then he took his child's tiny hand in his own.
"She will be my heir."