A few days later, Rose was propped up in bed by a mountain of white pillows, breastfeeding the baby. She was still in pain from being sliced open in the middle of a copse of trees when she moved about but the magic healing, she was receiving was helping her no end.
“We still haven’t chosen a name yet,” Rose said, stroking the baby’s soft downy brown hair.
“Can I suggest one?” Easton asked, after a long thoughtful pause.
“Sure, I’m at a complete loss”
“I think we should name him Edwin after my father…” Easton said and waited for her to reject the idea but instead Rose looked down at the beautiful baby boy in her arms and thought it was the perfect name.
“I think it is perfect” she replied. The baby carried on suckling and Easton looked out of the window of their bedroom at the king
