Chapter 190: 190 - my ears
190
~Lisa’s POV
The merchant’s voice was soft but clear as he looked at me.
"What may I bring you this day, my lady?"
I froze. My mouth went dry. He was looking at me, not Damon, not Kael, not Rowan, me. I didn’t know how to answer, not when the weight of three pairs of eyes pressed into my back.
"I..." My voice cracked a little. I swallowed and tried again. "Baby things."
The merchant blinked once, then bowed his head. "Of course. Follow me."
I let out a shaky breath as he turned, leading us past rows of silk, jars of spices, and golden ornaments. My steps echoed on the polished floor. The market was silent, too silent. No crowd, no voices. Just torches burning against the stone walls and the faint scrape of our boots.
Damon walked close beside me, his presence steady. Kael trailed behind with that lazy smirk that made my skin crawl. Rowan’s jaw was tight, his steps sharp, like every move he made was meant to remind me he was Alpha.
The merchant stopped before a wide section filled with things I never dreamed of seeing. Cradles carved from dark wood and inlaid with silver, stacks of soft cloths that shimmered faintly in the firelight, little garments made of silk and fur, stitched with threads of gold. My heart thudded. Everything looked too fine, too grand, too costly.
The merchant spread his hand. "Here, my lady. Choose as you wish."
My throat tightened. "Choose?"
"Yes," he said, bowing slightly. "For the child."
Behind me, Kael gave a soft laugh. "Well, Lisa. Go on. Let’s see what you think our child deserves."
Rowan’s voice followed, low and sharp. "Make it quick. We don’t have time for you to stare like a lost servant."
I bit my lip. My hands shook as I reached toward the clothes. The fabric was softer than anything I had touched before, smooth as water running over my fingers. I saw the price marked at the side, so high my breath caught.
I pulled my hand back at once. "I... I can’t."
Damon’s voice was firm. "You can."
I looked up at him, my eyes wide. "Did you see the price? It’s too much. I can’t pick something like this."
"You can," he repeated, calm but steady. "Don’t worry about the price. Pick what you want. It’s for the baby."
Kael chuckled behind me. "Listen to her. She’s scared to touch a piece of cloth. I told you, she knows nothing about raising our child."
Rowan’s lips curled. "She’s thinking like a human girl. Counting coins, fretting over scraps. An Alpha’s heir is not raised in scraps."
Heat flared in my chest. I clenched my hands to keep them from shaking. "I’m not counting coins," I snapped. "I just... I’ve never seen things like this. I don’t want to choose wrong."
Damon’s gaze softened a little. "You won’t choose wrong. Choose what feels right to you."
Kael’s laugh was sharp. "Right to her? You really trust her with that?"
"Yes," Damon said flatly.
The silence that followed cut deeper than Kael’s mocking.
I turned back to the shelves. Slowly, carefully, I reached for a length of soft linen. It gleamed faintly, white with silver edges. My heart thumped as I imagined wrapping my baby in it. But again, the price carved into the tag made my stomach twist.
"I... I can’t," I whispered, setting it back.
Damon leaned closer. "Take it."
I shook my head. "It’s too much. Too fine. I don’t need this."
Kael’s voice was cruel. "No, you don’t. But the child does. You’d have him wrapped in rags if it were up to you."
I glared at him, my blood boiling. "Rags? I only want what’s soft, what’s warm, what matters."
Rowan scoffed. "What matters is that he is heir. Do you think the world will respect an Alpha’s child if he’s wrapped like a farmer’s son? No. He must be seen as great from the start."
"Enough," Damon said again, sharper this time. His eyes never left mine. "Lisa, choose it."
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My fingers trembled as I lifted the linen again. It was light, smooth, shining faintly under the torchlight. My chest ached as I held it.
"This one," I whispered.
The merchant bowed and set it aside.
Kael made a sound, half a laugh, half a scoff. "At least she didn’t pick the cheapest thing in sight."
I ignored him. My eyes moved to the cradles. One in the corner caught my attention. Dark oak wood, smooth and strong, carved with vines and stars. I stepped closer, brushing my hand across it. It was beautiful, but not gaudy.
"That one," I said softly.
Rowan stepped forward, his voice hard. "That creaks. Too plain. Look at the gilded one. Gold inlays, silk bedding. That is what our child deserves."
I turned sharply. "The baby won’t know the difference between gold and wood. He’ll only need comfort."
Rowan’s nostrils flared. "It isn’t about the baby knowing. It’s about what the world sees."
I stood my ground. "The world doesn’t matter. The baby does."
Damon moved closer, placing a hand lightly on Rowan’s arm. "She chooses. That was the agreement."
Rowan’s jaw tightened, but he stepped back, his eyes cold.
My chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. "That one," I said again, pointing to the oak cradle.
The merchant bowed and marked it aside.
Piece by piece, I chose.
A bonnet of white wool lined with fur. My fingers trembled as I touched it, imagining my baby’s head warm inside it.
Kael snorted. "A bonnet? That looks like something a shepherd’s wife would make."
I ignored him.
Next, a quilt, blue and white, stitched with tiny stars. My heart tightened as I smoothed my hand across it. "This one," I said.
Rowan groaned. "Plain again. Do you want the child to be mistaken for a servant?"
Before I could answer, Damon cut in. "She chooses."
Rowan glared but stayed silent.
Then, a pair of leather booties, small, soft, plain but strong. I held them, my chest aching.
Kael laughed. "Booties so dull even a servant would sneer."
My hands shook. I turned and glared at him. "At least they’ll keep him warm. That’s what matters."
Damon’s voice came again, steady. "She’s right."
I set the booties aside. My heart felt heavy, but at the same time lighter with each piece I chose.
Then my eyes caught a silver rattle, polished and plain, heavy in my hand. I lifted it.
Kael’s laughter rang sharp. "At last, something worthy. A silver rattle. But tell me, Lisa, do you even know how to raise a child of our blood? Do you know what such a child deserves?"
My blood boiled. My hands trembled. But I held his gaze. "I know what a baby needs, Kael. Warmth. Comfort. Love. Not gold in his mouth before he can even speak."
Kael tilted his head, amused. "Love?" he repeated, almost like it was a strange word. "And you think that is enough?"
His smirk made my heart pound harder. I wanted to scream.
But Damon’s voice broke the air. "She’s right."
Kael went quiet. Rowan muttered under his breath.
The merchant cleared his throat. "Shall I pack these for you, my lady?"
I looked at the pile. The cradle. The quilt. The booties. The bonnet. The rattle. All expensive. All finer than anything I had known. My heart swelled and ached all at once. I could almost see my baby there, wrapped safe, surrounded by all of it.
"Yes," I whispered.
The merchant bowed. "At once."
Damon stepped forward. His voice carried quiet command. "You know where to send it."
The merchant bowed again. "Yes, my lord."
Damon’s hand brushed gently against my back, guiding me back to the palaquin.
Rowan and Kael followed, silent now, though their mocking lingered like ghosts in my ears.