To Be A Mother

Not another assassination attempt. Cruden was growing tired of these stupid people and their delusions that getting to Roselia meant harming him as well. They were wasting manpower.

"Nobody moves!" the man holding Roselia at knifepoint demanded, but his position was strange. The dagger was pointed directly at her womb. The most precarious of positions for a woman.

At this, Cruden's gaze grew dark. His grip tightened on his gun. 

"If you move, we'll slice her womb right open! She'll never be able to carry your heir, much less, fathom childbirth," the assaulter snarled. 

"And what is it that you wish for?" Cruden asked, almost bored of this kind of conversation at this point. 

Seriously, could these people not give him a break? All Cruden wanted was a nice day to go shopping with his wife and pampered her for all she deserved. They couldn't have waited for when the two were arguing, so that he could be her knight in shining armor? The disrespect.