Page 73 of First Comes Orc, Second Comes Baby
“Good job, girl. She looks good.” She released Charlotte and turned to Brahnt. “We need to think up a name. Nothing new aged, none of that celebrity crap. Something traditional.”
Charlotte kept her expression neutral. Don't feed the troll. Don’t feed the— “We were thinking of Karen.”
Regine paled.
Eventually, the crowd cleared out except for Caro, who would be that evening's designated gopher so Charlotte could focus on baby and Brahnt could focus on Charlotte. Which meant they needed someone to fetch and carry and run interference. Charlotte eyed her sister, hunched over in the corner of the room, sitting on a chair and staring at the floor.
“You can get out your laptop now,” Charlotte said. “I know you're going through withdrawal.”
Caro jerked her head up. “You don't mind? I'll do some editing. Maybe admin. Light, nothing deep focus.”
“You went, what? Twelve hours without a device other than your smartphone? You deserve a reward.”
“Oh, thank fucking god,” Caro exclaimed and retrieved her laptop. “Brahnt, if you need anything, just holler. I'm your girl.”
Brahnt gave Caro a look, then murmured in Charlotte's ear, “I'm starting to see what you mean. I admire focus like any normal person, but I don't think that's focus. I think that's addiction.”
“Nah, that's just being an indie author. They're insane. She just started a new pen name and thinks she can magically dictate her way into like two years worth of backlist.”
The baby woke from one of her brief naps and began nuzzling Charlotte's chest.
Brahnt called the doula, who entered moments later and watched as Charlotte, for only the second time that day, latched the baby onto an engorged nipple. Doula murmured tips and encouragement here and there, but honestly, it was as if Baby knew exactly what to do.
“Have you decided which of the names?” Brahnt asked once the doula retreated, leaving them alone in the darkened suite.
They’d compiled a list of female names from both their families plus the names of famous ballerinas, and Brahnt had said he would leave the final decision up to Charlotte. Charlotte suspected Brahnt did that just to annoy Regine. But in the interest of family peace, Charlotte decided to stick to something classic that would look good on a resume or on a stage.
“Anna Surina,” Charlotte said.
“Classic,” Brahnt said, approval in his voice. He grimaced. “Mother will like it.”
“Unfortunately.”
Brahnt shrugged. He didn't seem to recognize the dryness in Charlotte's tone. “Nothing's perfect. We'll put her in pink Gucci for her newborn photos. That will piss Mother off.”
“You’re such a good son.”
* * *
To help keep Charlotte from going stir crazy, Brahnt and Caro—under Charlotte's supervision—set up little nests all over the penthouse, one of them on the balcony where Charlotte currently lounged in a hammock, Anna Surina napping on her bare chest.
Two days after she'd been born, her life consisted of Brahnt fussing over Charlotte eating and drinking enough, Caro texting to see if Charlotte wanted her to drag Brahnt out of the house for a couple of hours, Ati popping by regularly with and without Milgrida to eyeball the state of the fridge and continue her polite standoff with Brahnt's housekeeper, and Samesh getting in plenty of video calls so he could coo over the baby. Charlotte and Brahnt distributed a request for no visitors other than Ati for the first week so parents and baby could bond, but after seven days, the family would descend.
Charlotte was soaking up the peace and quiet now, though admittedly she enjoyed the chaos of larger groups of people and missed it.
Still, she was tired, her body achy, breastfeeding wasn't as easy as people made it look in videos, and whenever she undid her postpartum corset, she cringed.
“All in good time,” she told the sleeping Anna. “We're supposed to be gentle with ourselves right now.”
Though really, that was all noise. She was still an elite athlete. She would give it exactly six weeks, and then she was going hard and getting her body back. Even if she had to sneak her workouts when Brahnt wasn't hanging around. Brahnt, forget him anyway, said he liked the extra cushion.
“Do you need anything? I can take her for a few hours if you want to nap solo.”
Charlotte glanced up at the Orc, who stepped out onto the balcony, his expression soft as he gazed at the sleeping baby. “She's fine.”
Brahnt glared a little. “It's my turn, Charlotte.”
“But I don't want to wake her up.”
