Chapter 890: Hannah's Arrival

It was 3 PM when Theodore and Hannah arrived at the capital. While being escorted, Hannah passed a special passageway to reach Lillian's ward. Finding Lillian breastfeeding, Hannah waited outside. She soon heard Lillian moan in pain, a pain Hannah recognized from her own, albeit less severe, experience.

Lillian's moans echoed intermittently. Hannah didn't see Oscar. Was he inside? She didn't pursue the question. Several nurses stood outside the door, seemingly preparing for a dressing change. Overhearing Lillian's continued moans, they sighed.

"What a challenging job for a mother," one commented, "to survive both the pain of labor and breastfeeding!"

"At least she has a wonderful husband by her side," the other replied. "It would be torture if he were irresponsible."

"You're right. The Commander-in-Chief must be the greatest husband. He was with her from the start of labor. I heard Mrs. Wells scratched his arm in pain, and he bled, but he didn't even moan. He just kept comforting her."

"Yes, I heard that too! Those nurses attending the labor must be envious. I thought the Commander was unapproachable, but he's so tender with his wife."

"He did more than that! After the labor, he stayed with her. When the baby cried at night, he fed her himself, not leaving her with the nanny or Mrs. Wells, who needed rest. He's so adept at holding the baby; I bet he took babysitting lessons before the birth."

"Gosh, he's so nice! He must be incredibly busy, yet he found time for babysitting lessons? My husband is nothing compared to him!"

"Mine either."

The nurses' conversation, though hushed, reached Hannah. Theodore, engrossed in his phone, remained oblivious. The nurses, equally absorbed in their gossip, were unaware of Hannah's presence.

After some time, Lillian's moans ceased. A nurse emerged from the room, followed by the gossiping nurses and Oscar. He had indeed been inside.

Hannah greeted him calmly, "How is she doing with breastfeeding?"

Hesitantly, Oscar replied, "She's fine, I suppose."

"Glad to hear that," Hannah smiled.

Oscar turned to Theodore, his voice reproachful, "Why didn't you call before arriving?"

"It wasn't necessary," Theodore retorted.

Hannah agreed, feeling a little sorry for him. She didn't envy Lillian; she deserved the care she received.

"Is the baby there?" Hannah asked.

"She's sleeping after feeding," Oscar said.

"Can I see her?"

"Wait a few minutes. The nurse is changing her wound dressing."

"Was it a natural labor?" Hannah inquired.

"Yes."

"It must have been painful," Hannah observed.

Oscar looked at her.

"She's brave," Hannah clarified with a smile.

Oscar nodded, "Yes."

"How much does the baby weigh?" Hannah asked, initiating a new topic to alleviate the awkward silence.

"About seven pounds."

"That's healthy," she commented.

"The doctor said the same. She's healthy in every way."

"Glad to hear that," Hannah smiled.

A nurse approached.

"Finished?" Oscar asked.

"Yes, Commander," the nurse replied respectfully, blushing.

"How's the wound?"

"Under recovery."

"Mhm."

The nurse bowed and departed.

"Can I go in?" Hannah asked.

"Yes, I told her you were coming. She's delighted to see you," Oscar said.

Hannah smiled politely. Oscar led her into a luxurious hospital suite. A large living room opened into a well-equipped kitchen, where Max was cooking. Hannah hadn't realized Max now worked there.

Max bowed respectfully, "Ms. Cooper, welcome."

"You work here now?" Hannah asked pleasantly.

"Yes, Madam said she liked my cooking… so…" Max explained, slightly embarrassed at serving Lillian after previously serving Hannah.

"It's okay," Hannah smiled gently, her expression neutral.

Oscar led her into a large patient room with floor-to-ceiling windows. Despite the medical equipment, the room was luxuriously decorated, like a five-star hotel suite, offering a panoramic city view. A queen-sized bed with pink bedding sat in the center. Lillian, looking tired but smiling, sat up.

"Hannah, welcome," Lillian greeted warmly.

"Hi, where's the little sweetheart?" Hannah asked, smiling.

"Oscar just put her to sleep. She's in the crib," Lillian said, pointing to a pink crib. Her demeanor seemed innocent.

Hannah subtly ignored the subtext. She approached the crib and lifted the mosquito net. A two-day-old baby girl slept soundly, rosy-cheeked and chubbier than Hannah's son. She resembled Cian. Hannah felt a sense of relief at the confirmation, though she'd never doubted Cian's paternity.