THIRTY-SEVEN
A baby's cry roused Abraham from a sound sleep. "Has your time come already?" he mumbled, forcing his eyes open.
But the eyes he met were not those of the princess. They were accusing, and they belonged to Chase.
"Why aren't you protecting Maja?" Abraham grumbled, rising.
"Because her time came early. She stumbled on the steps and fell. She bled so much, it was a miracle they managed to save the baby. Isaak, she called him. The son you do not deserve." Chase pointed.
Abraham's gaze followed the direction of his brother in law's finger, to where a strange woman held a baby to her breast. "Maja?" It couldn't be.
"Maja is dead. Giving birth sapped what little life she had left, but she was adamant that the child must live. That you might love him as you never loved her
