Bastian
Chapter Side Story 27 - My Paradise

✧My Paradise✧

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

The hall was silent save for the desperate patter of heeled shoes. Countess Trier could not sit still for a moment and must have walked a hundred miles in that hallway already. Every now and then she would stop in front of the doors to the operating room and peer in through the window but the vanity screen kept her from seeing what was going on. With an impatient huff, she continued her pacing.

   Another couple of laps of the hall and she stopped in front of the door again, peering in through the small window, but as before, the vanity blocked her line of sight. Once in awhile, she would look up at the clock and wonder what was taking Bastian so long. Surely he had received the news by now. She expected him hours ago.

   The rhythmic clop of her shoes was added to by the sound of hurrying feet, of someone running. She looked up the hallway just in time to see Bastian come skidding around, almost running into the wall as he went.

   “My goodness, Admiral Klauswitz, did you run through a battlefield or something?” Countess Trier said.

   Bastian looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, his hair was a wild mess, his sash was twisted, the medals were askew and his face was beet red and covered in sweat.

   “Is my wife here, is she okay?” Bastian, out of breath, asked firmly, still panting heavily, ignoring the Countesses remarks and peering in through the windowed door.

Countess Trier, realizing why he was so rushed, let out a chuckle that sounded almost like a sigh, “Yes, yes, she’s perfectly fine. Last I heard, the doctors said the head was, erm, crowning. So it’s almost over.”

   “What does that mean?”

   “It means you will be holding your child very soon.” The Countess smiled at Bastian and put a hand on his shoulder.

   It was very jarring to see a war hero, someone who had commanded may battles, who had remained composed through everything, now look like a lost and flustered little boy. It was interesting to think that Bastian could wear such an expression.

Bastian stared off into space, wiping his sweat-drenched face with a bare hand. Then he heard someone cried out, it was a woman’s cry, it was Odette. Bastian blanched and acted instinctively, making to barge open the doors and go to his wife’s side, but Countess Trier imposed herself between him and the door.

   “Now see here, Admiral, a man can not be allowed into the birthing room. You must observe the rules of what is decent.”

   “Step aside, Lady Trier or that wont be the only ungentlemanly thing I do today. This is my wife we’re talking about.” Bastian’s eyes were blazing pools of blue fire as he looked at the obstacle between him and his wife.

   “All the more reason to maintain decorum and dignity or do you intend to sully the birth of your first born before they have even had chance to take their first breath?” Countess Trier said sternly, like she was talking to a misbehaving child.

The room was filled with watchful eyes—relatives who had rushed over upon hearing of Odette’s labor, along with members of other noble families visiting the VIP ward. It was like a small-scale representation of Ratz society. The child of the Klauswitz couple, darlings of the social elite who had conceived against all odds, was about to be born. The idea of the fame this child would carry was overwhelming.

   “I’m well aware that you consider the social etiquette to be a mere pretence. While I can not argue against that view, but after all, this is the world that your child will be born into and as such, you must lead by example. Now, go and get some refreshments and consider what type of roll model you want to be for your child.” she signaled to the gathered crowd with her eyes. Luckily, Bastian caught on to the cue. 

“Go and get ready to become a father.”  The Countess shoved Bastian away, who allowed himself to be lead to the guest lounge. She was right and he knew it. Reluctantly, he had to agree. That was until Odette’s scream could be heard again and Bastian froze in place. Suddenly, Countess Trier felt like she was trying to push over a brick wall.

   “Admiral….” 

“…I have a message for my wife. Tell her I’ve made it here. That everything will be okay. Please pass this on to Odette, Countess.” Bastian said, opening his eyes that had been shut tight, with a plea.

The formidable figure, often likened to a hound of hell, found himself undone by the sound of his wife’s laboring cries. Countess Trier, struggling to conceal a smile, gave a nod of approval. Only then did Bastian resumed his steps. To those observing from afar, the sight must have been impressive. They saw only the young admiral in his resplendent ceremonial attire, moving with a determined military gait.

As Bastian stepped into the waiting room, Countess Trier finally allowed access to the ward. She understood that now was not the moment for sentimentality, yet a promise was a promise, after all.

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In the en suite bathroom of the VIP waiting room, Bastian refreshed himself, washing his face. He combed his hair, straightened any crooked medals and ribbons, and his appearance was notably enhanced.

Although Bastian couldn’t help but feel as though he was partaking in some absurd pantomime, he conscientiously attended to every aspect of his uniform, ensuring even the parts hidden from view were impeccable, free from a single speck of dust, before he left the waiting room. The corridor outside was now even more crowded with onlookers than before.

Bastian made his way to Odette’s hospital room with measured steps. Now and then, acquaintances stopped him to extend their congratulations, to which he replied with due politeness. Yet, he barely registered any of their faces, moving almost mechanically, as though navigating a dream.

‘Please protect me and our baby.’

As he walked down the hospital corridor, awash in the soft glow of spring sunlight, Bastian dwelled on Odette’s plea, a request he had never let slip from his memory. Whatever position he needed to play to ensure their protection, he would go about it gladly. Whether he needed to be a conqueror, he would or a mere pawn in political game, he would. What ever it took, he would protect them.

Please.

Bastian pressed his lips tightly together, stifling a slight tremble.

   Ever since he stepped foot in the hospital, he thought he could smell blood. He knew it was a hallucination, but he couldn’t shake the vision of it from his mind.  Odette’s hand, pale and bloodstained. Their lifeless child. A heartbeat silent despite his desperate listening.

   The hospital felt claustrophobic, the walls of the wide hallway felt all too close. The nightmare of his past had returned to haunt him in the present, swallowing him whole.  His own ragged breaths filled the void, and in the crushing silence of cold despair, he found himself wishing for even that small sign of life to cease. While he struggled to clear his mind, Bastian paced with increasingly heavy steps.

Odette’s hospital room was just steps away, but an unsettling silence enveloped the area. Gone were the sounds of labor, leaving a quiet that felt too deep.

   “Odette, please be okay,” he said, repeating the prayer over and over again. 

   As his patience wore thin and his nerves frayed, he declared to hell with the norms and made for the closed door, but before he could reach out a hand, he was frozen by the sounds of a tiny infants cries. 

It was the most wondrous sound, awakening his consciousness like a lifeline pulling him from the depths of water.

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The baby was so beautiful like an angel bathed in celestial light. Odette looked down at the little angel in her arms with eyes full of love. If all wrinkled up as babies tend to be, Odette could see the beauty in such a miraculous creature. To think, all that pain she had just endured, which now seemed like a distant memory, was the only cost to hold beauty in her arms. It felt unreal that she had attained such happiness. Odette blinked the tears from her eyes, swallowing the resounding emotions that build in her chest. 

She was a mother now. Cradling her newborn, the weight of her new reality settled over her. Odette blinked back tears, her eyes red, as she tried to contain the emotion welling up inside her. Just then, a gentle knock sounded.

“Bastian.” Her voice, tinged with a joy too vast to contain, welcomed her husband. Bastian, who had been watching them both in quiet, approached with soft steps. His first act was to assure himself of Odette’s well-being, expressing his gratitude to the attending medical team. It was only after these formalities that he allowed himself to look at the child they had longed for.

Odette’s eyes clouded with confusion at Bastian’s apparent aloofness. After formally thanking the medical team and even escorting them to the ward’s entrance, his actions seemed almost too distant.  Could she be dreaming? Just as she felt the urge to pinch her cheeks, the final nurse left the room and Bastian turned his attention back to Odette. His smile, previously polite and mask-like, faded, leaving his expression as empty as a darkened window, tinged with a sense of loss.    

It was only then that Odette felt a wave of relief wash over her. She recognized the paralyzing fear that can accompany overwhelming joy, a feeling she had experienced herself upon meeting their newborn for the first time.

 The amalgam of pain, sorrow, happiness, joy, wounds, tears, and love crashed over her like a powerful wave, leaving her engulfed in an indescribable storm of emotions. All she wanted was to let the tears flow, unsure of how else to express the tumult within her. Bastian, she realized, must be feeling the same overwhelming mix of emotions.

   “Bastian, I’m fine, me and coco are fine.It’s all thanks to you.”

Odette’s voice, as comforting as the warmth of spring sunshine, reached Bastian. He searched for the right words to say, yet found himself speechless. All he could do was gaze at her and release a sigh that morphed into a chuckle tinged with self-derision. The redness in his eyes betrayed his attempt to hide his emotions.

   “Will you continue to protect us?” Odette said, her turquoise eyes sparkled like jewels.

   “Yes, of course, Odette. I will.” Bastian promised. Raising his bare hand to cover his burning eyes, he let out a giggle—a laugh that carried a tone of self-mockery. It was a sight that stirred pity.

   “Then come and meet your daughter, make the promise to her also, Bastian.”

Odette’s voice, breaking into a sob. Bastian took a few deep breaths before finally lowering his hands from his face. With a slow, deliberate movement, yet filled with purpose, he moved to sit beside his wife and child.

The sight of each other’s tear-stained faces brought an unspoken joy, making them laugh together, as if on cue. Bastian sealed his unvoiced love and gratitude with a kiss on Odette’s pale cheek and courageously met the gaze of their daughter, cradled peacefully in her mother’s arms, deep in sleep.

He spent a long moment admiring his daughter, gently caressing her soft, downy platinum hair that mirrored his own. Yet, in the shape of her eyes, nose, and lips, she resembled Odette more.

   “Aw she’s smiling, she must really like her daddy,” Odette cooed.

   “She’s not even opened her eyes yet, I doubt she knows its me.”

   Even as he gave his sceptical reply, he never took his eyes off his daughter, even as she let out a sleepy yawn. Any denial that festered in Bastian’s heart melted away like a snow and was forgotten.

Bastian experienced love at first sight once again. Just as he had once been mesmerized by a beautiful woman revealing herself, he now found himself wholly enchanted by the sight of his daughter, smiling in the gentle embrace of the spring sunlight.

   “Would you like to hold her?” Odette said, handing over the child to her father..

   Though slightly bewildered, Bastian took up the girl in his arms. He had never handled anything so delicately in his life. He felt like he was holding a wet paper bag that treated to split at the slightest mishandling. The child squirmed at first, disgruntled at being disturbed, but she settled quickly into Bastian’s arms.

   “Seeing her in your arms really makes me realise how tiny she is,” Odette’s smile was like a spring lower watching Bastian smiled down at his daughter and placed a finger in her hand. It was so small that it could barely grasp the tip of it. Stirred by the sudden stimulus, Coco opened her unseeing eyes and gripped Bastian’s finger with all her might.

In that moment, it felt as though their hearts were communicating directly. After this fleeting connection, the baby drifted back into a sleep. Bastian gently placed his daughter back into her mother’s arms and embraced the love that had brought this miracle into their lives. He would devote everything to protect his paradise. Bastian no longer doubted himself.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Within less than a day, word of the newest Klauswitz’s arrival had swept through the city. Constance Carolina Maria Trosa Klauswitz was her full, dignified, and elegant name, yet most people came to know her by her affectionate nickname.

A princess of the new era,  though she had finally been given a dignified name, the heiress of her farther fortune and her mothers noble lineage would always been known as Coco.

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