Chapter 2

The ornately carved oak doors of the birthing chamber creaked open, announcing Kyle's arrival. A tense silence hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the joyous commotion that usually followed a childbirth. Duke Robert stood by the window, his back rigid, while Duchess Amber sat propped up against the pillows, her face pale and drawn. Beside her, a young maid named Mia cradled a swaddled bundle in her arms.

"You wished to see me, Your Grace?" Kyle inquired, his deep voice echoing in the hushed room.

Robert turned, his face etched with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. "Yes, Kyle. There's a matter we need to discuss, a delicate one."

He gestured towards Mia, who stood nervously by the bed. Kyle's gaze fell upon the child, a spark of curiosity igniting within him. "Congratulations, Your Graces," he boomed, his voice tinged with genuine warmth. "A healthy heir is a blessing to House Edwood."

Robert's lips twisted into a humorless smile. "Not quite the heir we had hoped for, Kyle."

Duchess Amber reached out a trembling hand, her voice barely a whisper. "Please, Kyle. Let us explain."

The following hour unfolded like a scene from a tragic play. Robert revealed the shocking truth – their newborn son, Luke, lacked mana veins. The gravity of the situation settled upon them like a shroud. Without the ability to wield magic, Luke was deemed unfit to inherit the dukedom.

Kyle, a man of unwavering loyalty and a keen observer, listened intently. The disappointment in Robert's voice was undeniable, laced with a flicker of something akin to shame. Amber, on the other hand, radiated a fierce maternal love that clashed with the harsh reality.

As they outlined their plan – to entrust Luke to Mia and Kyle, to raise him in a secluded cottage near Whisperwind Forest – a kaleidoscope of emotions flickered across Kyle's face. Surprise battled with understanding, and a surge of protectiveness welled up within him.

"The whispers will be relentless, Your Grace," Kyle finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "Raising the child away from the prying eyes of the court is wise."

Robert nodded curtly. "Discretion is paramount, Kyle. No one, and I mean no one, must know of Luke's lineage. He will be presented as an orphan you and Mia took in out of the kindness of your hearts."

A pang of sympathy pierced Kyle's heart. To be cast aside, his future shrouded in secrecy, was a harsh fate for any child. He stole a glance at Mia, who held Luke close, her expression a mask of quiet determination.

"He will be safe with us, Your Grace," Mia said, her voice firm despite the tremor that betrayed her emotions. "We will raise him with love and care."

Amber leaned forward, tears welling up in her eyes. She reached out and gently caressed Luke's cheek. "My precious Luke," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "May you find happiness, even if it's far from here."

A single tear escaped her eye and traced a glistening path down her cheek before landing on Luke's tiny hand. It was a gesture of love and sorrow, a silent promise etched in a mother's tear.

Robert placed a comforting hand on Amber's shoulder, his jaw clenched tight. The internal struggle between his duty to his house and his love for his son was evident in his stoic demeanor.

Finally, with a heavy heart, Robert rose to his feet. "This is a burden I place upon you, Kyle and Mia. See to it that Luke is well cared for, that his secret remains buried."

Kyle knelt before the Duke, his hand resting on his sword. "I swear on my life, Your Grace. Luke will be safe with us. He will be raised as our own."

Robert nodded curtly, a flicker of gratitude gracing his face for a brief moment. Then, with a final lingering look at his son, he turned and left the room and Clara the midwife follows behind him, the weight of his decision etched on his broad shoulders.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions. Amber, drained and heartbroken, clung to Mia, seeking solace in the young maid's unwavering loyalty. Kyle stood guard, a silent pillar of strength in the face of their despair.

As the night deepened, Mia and Kyle prepared to leave the opulent confines of the Duke's residence and embark on a new chapter, one shrouded in secrecy and a promise whispered in the dead of night. The journey ahead was uncertain, but one thing remained clear – they would protect Luke, their little charge, with their very lives.

News of the Duke's newborn son's demise spread like wildfire through the Duchy of Edwood. A wave of somberness washed over the noble houses and common folk alike. The official decree announced a tragic birthing complication, forcing the agonizing decision to save the Duchess's life. Whispers of sympathy swirled around the Duke and Duchess, a veil of grief shrouding the true story behind Luke's disappearance.

Meanwhile, a hundred miles away, nestled amidst the whispering pines of Whisperwind Forest, a small, unassuming cottage welcomed its new inhabitants. Kyle, his weathered face etched with a determined resolve, emerged from the dense woods. In his arms, he cradled a simple basket, the rhythmic gurgling emanating from within a melody to his ears.

Mia, her heart brimming with a mixture of trepidation and maternal love, awaited him on the porch. Her simple brown dress, adorned with a worn leather apron, spoke of practicality rather than courtly finery. Her eyes, the color of rich earth, shone with a fierce protectiveness as she received the basket from Kyle.

"He seems settled," Kyle observed, his voice a comforting rumble.

Mia peeked inside, a gentle smile gracing her lips. Luke, swaddled in a patchwork quilt, lay nestled comfortably. His eyes, a startling blue that seemed to hold the innocence of the newborn sky, were wide open, taking in his new surroundings for the first time.

"He's beautiful, Kyle," Mia whispered, a hint of awe in her voice.

The morning sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the wooden floor. Luke, oblivious to the world beyond his immediate comfort, gurgled and reached out with a tiny hand. Mia's heart melted.

"He seems hungry," she remarked, gently cradling him closer.

"I'll see what I can find," Kyle said, his gaze flickering towards the forest. "Perhaps a plump rabbit or some fresh berries."

Mia shook her head. "No, Kyle. Not yet. He's too young for solid food. I brought some goat's milk from the last market visit. It should suffice for now."

Kyle's brow furrowed slightly. "Goat's milk? It's a long journey, and supplies are…"

Mia cut him off with a reassuring smile. "I managed, Kyle. We'll have to make do until you can restock our supplies. But for now, the little one needs his milk."

As Mia expertly prepared a small feeding cup, Luke's cries grew more insistent. He rooted around with his mouth, searching for sustenance. Mia chuckled softly and guided the cup towards his lips. He latched on eagerly, his tiny face contorting in concentration as he drew in the warm milk.

A wave of contentment washed over Mia as she watched him feed. The weight of their secret mission, the burden of raising a Duke's son in a secluded cottage, seemed to lessen with each satisfied gurgle. In that moment, amidst the quiet of the forest and the warmth of a new life, Mia found a renewed sense of purpose.

Luke, for his part, felt a sense of security unlike any he had ever known. The gentle rocking motion, the soft sounds of Mia's voice, the warmth of her touch – it was a stark contrast to the harsh reality of his life on the streets. Here, in this simple cottage, he felt safe, cared for, and for the first time, truly seen.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Kyle returned. Disappointment clouded his features.

"No luck with the hunt," he reported, his voice gruff. "Seems the game is scarce these parts."

Mia, however, remained undeterred. "There's still some bread left, Kyle. We'll manage. We just need to be resourceful until you can get to the market again."

Kyle nodded, a flicker of admiration crossing his eyes. Mia's unwavering spirit, her fierce determination to protect Luke, filled him with a newfound respect. Together, they would create a safe haven for this child, a life shrouded in secrecy but overflowing with love.

The day wore on, a tapestry woven with simple routines – feeding Luke, changing his swaddles, singing him lullabies. As dusk settled, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Luke's eyelids began to droop. Exhausted from his first full day in his new world, he drifted off to sleep, his tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath.

Mia and Kyle, enveloped in a comfortable silence, settled around the crackling fire. In the flickering flames, they saw not just shadows dancing on the wall, but a future, an uncertain one, but one they were determined to face together, for the sake of the child entrusted by the Duchess herself to them.

________________

A warm haze filled Luke's tiny world. Hunger pangs, the constant companion of his past life, were absent. The scratchy fabrics he once knew were replaced by a soft, comforting cocoon. Gentle sounds – a woman's voice humming a soothing tune, the rhythmic crackle of fire – lulled him into a sense of security he'd never known.

His limited understanding, a newborn's blank slate slowly absorbing the world around him, grasped at these new sensations. He remembered the cold, the gnawing hunger, the indifference etched on the faces he used to see. Here, in this new world, there were warm touches, soft voices, and a feeling of being cared for.

In his innocent mind, a thought flickered, a nascent form of gratitude. Perhaps it was a god, the stories he'd overheard from other beggars, who had finally taken pity on him. This new life, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the streets, felt like a gift. No more begging for scraps, no more nights spent huddled in doorways, shivering in the cold. Here, there was warmth, a roof over his head, and most importantly, people who looked at him with something akin to love.

His observations, though limited to a newborn's perspective, painted a picture of his new surroundings. The woman, Mia, with her kind eyes and gentle touch, was a constant source of comfort. The man, Kyle, with his gruff voice and weathered face, often returned from venturing outside clad in a strange, hard covering and carrying a sharp object at his side.

These details, fragmented and incomplete, formed the building blocks of Luke's new reality. Unlike the bustling city streets and the impersonal faces of his past life, this world seemed slower, quieter. He wasn't sure if it was less developed, as his nonexistent memories couldn't offer a point of comparison, but it felt different. Here, life revolved around the rhythm of nature, the rising and setting of the sun dictating their routines.

Days turned into weeks, and Luke's world expanded beyond the confines of the small cottage. Mia, ever patient, introduced him to the sights and sounds of the forest. The dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves, the melodic chirping of birds, the rustling of unseen creatures – these new experiences filled his senses with wonder.

He learned to recognize the warmth of Mia's embrace as she cradled him close, the gentle rocking that lulled him to sleep. Kyle's deep voice, though not as comforting as Mia's, held a reassuring presence. As Luke's strength grew, he began to explore his surroundings, reaching out to grab at dangling leaves and brightly colored wildflowers.

The world, once a cold and unforgiving place, was slowly transforming into a haven of warmth and love. The fear and uncertainty that had been his constant companions were replaced by a burgeoning sense of trust. In the quiet embrace of the Whisperwind Forest, under the watchful eyes of Mia and Kyle, Luke began the slow journey of healing and growth.