Chapter 102: Gawain (rewrite)

Gawain? Gawain!?

When Lott returned to the castle, he found the area around the specially transformed delivery room bustling with activity. The outer space was enclosed with a thick layer of maids, all gathered to support and pray for Morgan's safe delivery.

Lott entered quietly but paused at the door of the delivery room. He had travelled from afar and was concerned about the possibility of carrying germs that might infect Morgan. Thus, he hesitated to enter, fearing he might inadvertently cause harm.

"Your Majesty Lott!" The maids recognized him and greeted in unison.

Inside the delivery room, Morgan's voice cut through the commotion. "Lott, you're back!"

"Yes, I'm back," Lott responded.

Morgan, despite her intense pain, managed a small smile at Lott's arrival, feeling a sense of relief. She thought to herself, How can this be? We only use those intimate names for each other. Even so, she felt comforted by his presence, and the pain seemed a bit more bearable with this thought.

Outside, Lott waited anxiously. The process was taking longer than expected. The midwife emerged from the room, and with her came some unexpected visitors from the profession. Lott regretted not having arranged for an obstetrician earlier.

Rushing up to the midwife, Lott asked urgently, "How is the situation?"

"The child is halfway out now," the midwife replied.

Lott quickly clarified, "I didn't ask about the child; I asked about Morgan. Forget the child if necessary; as long as Morgan is safe."

"You mean to keep Morgan safe but not worry too much about the child?" the midwife asked, puzzled.

"Yes, yes, hurry up. Morgan can't have an accident," Lott insisted.

The midwife, hesitating, added softly, "Actually, the child can still be saved."

Lott's worry was palpable. "Then protect it," he said, feeling helpless.

Not long after, a loud, clear cry of a baby echoed from the delivery room, signalling that the baby was born.

Standing outside, Lott remained tense, even with the sound of the baby's cry. His focus was on Morgan's wellbeing.

"Morgan, how are you?" he called into the room.

Morgan's voice, though faint, was reassuring. "Nonsense, let you experience this, and you'd know how I feel. I'm getting better."

Her words relieved Lott, but he was still concerned. Morgan's age was not ideal for childbirth, but her robust health made the situation manageable. Despite the difficulties, there were no severe problems.

Eventually, the midwife came out and informed Lott, "Your Majesty Lott, you can come in now."

Lott entered to find Morgan, whose face was still pale. His heart ached to see her in such a state. It's really hard for her. Unfortunately, I can't be of much help, he thought.

Morgan, hearing his thoughts, felt reassured. At least my efforts weren't in vain, she mused.

After everyone left, Lott sat by Morgan's side. She looked at him with a hint of vulnerability.

"Unexpectedly, giving birth is so painful. I don't want to do it again," Morgan said, casting a glance at Lott.

Lott nodded seriously. "Yes, don't give birth again."

Morgan was taken aback by his serious tone. "Hey, I was joking. I'm not unwilling to give you more children. We need more manpower for the Knights of the Round Table!"

Lott hesitated, but Morgan waved it off. "It's okay. In this era, women usually have several children. My health is better than most women in Camelot. A few more won't be a problem."

Lott, looking at her with a stunned expression, eventually hugged her gently. "Okay, let's wait until you've recovered from the puerperium."

The term puerperium refers to the postpartum period. Before Lott crossed over, he had read about confinement practices and understood that while Westerners didn't traditionally follow them, the concept of recovery after childbirth was still important.

"Well, okay, but you need to take good care of yourself during this time," Lott said, holding Morgan close.

Morgan nestled into Lott's arms, her eyes closing as she relaxed. The maids, sensing the intimacy, quietly left the room.

Morgan then remembered something important. "By the way, Lott, what's the situation with our child?"

Lott, suddenly reminded, slapped his forehead. I almost forgot about the baby, he thought.

Morgan chuckled inwardly at Lott's forgetfulness. She remembered that he often got distracted.

Well, they're all unique. He must have led me astray, she thought, smiling despite the exhaustion.

Finally, the maids brought the child to Lott. As he held the baby, he absentmindedly began to tease him, not feeling much emotional connection to this new life just yet.

"Damn, you nearly gave your mother a hard time today," Lott murmured.

He then turned to Morgan. "Come, look at our son, Gawain…"

Midway through, Lott's expression changed to one of confusion.

Morgan, noticing Lott's reaction, asked urgently, "What happened to our son?"

Lott, bewildered, said, "Where's the handle? Where did the handle go?"

Morgan looked puzzled, unsure of what Lott meant.