Outside the library window, all the signs of spring were here. Pale green buds appeared on the seasonal rose bushes and vines, filling in the gaps between the year-round blooms. Water droplets fell from icicles to the melting snow banks below.
Soon, Chevalier and I would celebrate our first wedding anniversary, and then the baby would arrive.
I smiled, remembering the joy in Mother’s eyes whenever she held a baby, and the familiar ache came to my heart again.
“Who are you writing this time, little dove?”
I looked up at Chevalier as he came to my side. He combed his fingers through my hair, and the butterflies fluttered happily around my heart. Lack of room had forced them to vacate my stomach.
“Belle. A lot has happened since the last time I wrote to her. I’m trying to make sure I’m not missing anything, but I keep getting distracted.”
There were plenty of things to distract me. I couldn’t get comfortable, and although sitting on a cushion helped a little, I couldn’t sit still long before I had to get up and go to the bathroom again. And getting up was difficult.
And then there was the baby kicking me all the time.
I was sure he or she was having a lot of fun, but I wasn’t enjoying the internal beating.
“Next page.”
I shuffled the pages of the letter as Chevalier scanned them over my shoulder. There was so much happening, I felt certain I had to be forgetting something. I’d covered Sariel and Sarah right after the greeting, so I didn’t have to worry about that. He and Sarah had eloped after he got Sarah pregnant, and he was still trying to patch things up with her father. That man was giving Sariel a worse time than any of the nobility ever did.
Jin and Theresa came next. She was pregnant and due to give birth in the fall around the same time Belle was due, and although Jin had never been shy about expressing physical affection toward Theresa in public, he was beginning to embarrass her. He’d kiss her stomach and talk to it at the most inopportune moments, and she wasn't even showing yet.
“Nokto and Lydia.”
“Oh, you’re right. How could I forget?”
Nokto planned to propose to Lydia as soon as I had my baby. He’d bought the ring a week after meeting her, which surprised me, but not Chevalier. Apparently, after introducing Lydia to me, Nokto had returned to Chevalier’s office and announced he would marry her.
With any luck, he could get the engagement ceremony and wedding expedited. Lydia was making him wait until they were married, and I’d seen him standing outside in the snow so often, I was starting to worry about his health.
“There. That’s done.”
Chevalier held out his hand for me, and I took it, grateful for the help with getting up. When he was leading me across the library toward the door, the baby kicked again.
“Ouch. I’m ready for this to be over. This child is definitely yours. He’s violent.”
“Kicking?”
“And punching, I'm sure of it. It's bad enough we can't go to the chateau or do anything worthwhile for our anniversary. I'd rather not spend it getting beat up, too.”
“Would you like to go later this spring?”
I looked up at him, surprised. He’d been reluctant to plan anything beyond labor, struggling to see past my due date, but his question sounded… hopeful.
I smiled. “Of course! We could go right at the six-week mark, so it can be a kind of second honeymoon.”
“On one condition.” He gave me a sidelong glance and a smirk. “Servants will accompany us.”
“But—”
“No. I will not have you caring for a newborn and keeping house at the same time.”
I sighed, exasperated. “Women do it all the time, Chevalier.”
“I don’t care about other women. I care about you.”
“Fine.” I leaned my cheek against his arm. “Bring as many servants as you like. But next year, it’s just the two of us.”
“Agreed.”
Next year.
I sighed again.
I'd been trying to write him a letter in case the worst happened. That was the letter I sat down to write, not the letter to Belle. But I couldn’t do it.
It felt irresponsible. If it happened, I wanted nothing left unsaid. I didn’t want Chevalier to seal his heart off from the world and revert to the Brutal Beast.
But every time I resolved to do it, every time I sat down with a fresh sheet of parchment and quill at the ready, I couldn’t.
Maybe it was cowardice, an inability to face the fact that I could die in labor. Maybe it was a sign I wouldn’t.
I prayed it was the latter.
I'd been praying a lot lately. Multiple times throughout the day, and every nighttime trip to the bathroom.
Getting out of bed was harder than getting up from a seated position. The last time I'd tried to roll out of bed myself, I'd ended up on the floor, laughing at my predicament and crying about my helplessness. Chevalier had insisted I wake him up every time I needed to get up after that.
So, it was with the greatest reluctance I whispered his name later that night. “Chevalier.”
He sighed and got out of bed, then he came around to my side to help me up. I stood up on tiptoe and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“Sorry. You can go back to sleep now.”
We kept candles burning in the bathroom throughout the night for my frequent visits. My already misshapen shadow swelled even larger in the flickering light as I made my way to the toilet for what felt like the hundredth time that day. I sat down, yawning, and then a sudden wave of pain gripped me. A much bigger splash than I expected hit the water beneath me.
“Chevalier,” I whimpered, clutching at my stomach.
He was at my side in an instant, his blonde hair messy and his crystal blue eyes clouded with concern as he brushed my hair back from my face.
“I think—my water just broke,” I gasped.
“Come back to bed,” he urged me, his gentle, soothing voice grounding me as I reeled from that first contraction.
I shook my head. “Lydia said she does something with the sheets. It’ll be easier if she does that first.”
His touch lingered on my arm as he stood. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He was already gone before I finished speaking. Probably getting the doctor and Lydia, even though it was too early for the doctor. Lydia had warned me the first contractions would be infrequent and could last for hours or even days before I went into active labor, at which point my water would break.
But it just broke, and I hadn’t felt any contractions before now.
Maybe getting the doctor was a good idea.
I only had to wait a few minutes before Chevalier returned with the doctor, both of them acting as if there was nothing abnormal about gathering in the bathroom around a woman sitting on a toilet. Granted, the doctor had tended to my every need and carried me to and from the toilet during those six weeks as an invalid two years ago, but I'd cherished my privacy and dignity since then, and this was a severe violation.
“Alright, Queen Ivetta, how are you feeling?”
Embarrassed. Mortified.
Scared.
Chevalier was at my side again, stroking my hair. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.
“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse. Just the… just the one contraction when my water broke. None before, none since.”
“Hm." The doctor rubbed his chin, and I wondered if he really needed to stand there, looking at me on the toilet while he thought. "Probably just the start of early labor. Let's get you back to bed. I'm afraid it will be a long night, and probably a long day tomorrow, too.”
I knew it was too early to feel relieved when he strolled out of the bathroom. The humiliation was just beginning. I bid my dignity a reluctant farewell as I flushed the toilet, and then I leaned on Chevalier as he helped me back to bed.
I didn't need his help to walk. I just needed him.
“All ready! Don’t lift the sheets. You’re staying on top of these,” Lydia instructed us. “This goes over top. Trust me, you’ll thank me for this later.”
She’d stacked the pillows against the headboard, and I gave her a forced laugh as I sat back against them. “I believe you. Don’t I get to lie down for a while?”
“Well, let’s see how things are looking first.”
The cheer in her voice was as false as my laugh. I glanced at Chevalier, and his hand found mine as I assumed the awkward position. His piercing blue eyes locked on the doctor and Lydia. I waited with bated breath for somebody to speak.
It seemed like the silence stretched on forever, although it couldn’t have been more than a minute.
“You can tell me.”
The doctor sighed and straightened up. “Might just be a long night. King Chevalier, it’s time for you to leave.”
A wave of anxiety rushed through me. I knew it was normal for the father to leave at this stage; I'd seen Mr. Stotts pacing outside his home when Mrs. Stotts was delivering their children. But I couldn't bear the thought of Chevalier leaving, and I squeezed his hand, looking up at him and asking in a shaky voice, "Does he have to?”
His eyes met mine, and I knew his answer before he spoke.
“No.” He sat on the bed beside me. “I’m staying.”
Lydia and the doctor exchanged a glance, and then she ducked her head as she scurried around the room, readying supplies. I wondered what they weren’t saying, and then I realized I probably didn’t want to know. The panic was already threatening to rise higher, even without—
“Ooh.” I sucked in a breath and squeezed my eyes shut as another contraction hit.
“Contraction?” the doctor asked.
I nodded.
“Lydia, I believe now would be a good time,” he said in a too-bright voice.
“Right. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Then she was out the door, and I was looking up at Chevalier again with a silent question.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and scooted closer, close enough for his body to touch mine. "Don't worry about it. Just focus on doing what the doctor tells you.”
“You won’t leave me?”
“I won’t leave you.”
“Right now, you don’t need to do anything except stay calm,” the doctor instructed me. “When you feel the urge to push, let me know.”
Lydia returned only a few minutes later. She rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and said, "All taken care of. What names have you decided?”
I didn't want to have a conversation right now. It was real; it was happening; and I was terrified. My heart was pounding so hard and fast, it felt like it would explode at any moment. I would have already fallen apart if it weren't for Chevalier.
“Um… i-if it’s a girl, Evelyn Rose.”
“Her mother’s name was Evelyn,” Chevalier supplied.
His thumb brushed across the back of my hand, back and forth, and that simple gesture brought me back to those six weeks of bedrest when all physical intimacy meant was holding my hand and just being near me. He'd been a calming presence then, too.
I took a deep breath. He was here. I would be fine.
“That’s very pretty. Evelyn Rose Michel. What about a boy’s name?”
“We… haven’t decided yet.”
“Well, no time like the present. Let’s see…”
She started listing off names, and gradually, between her casual conversation and Chevalier’s quiet reassurances, the panic began to ease. I settled back against the pillows, waiting as the contractions continued.
Hours passed.
The contractions became more frequent and more painful, but that didn't seem to bother anybody other than me. I took that as a good sign. Things were going as they should. Although I wondered how long this would last.
Then a fresh wave of pain hit me so hard it knocked the breath out of me. I had to pull free from Chevalier and sit up straighter to gulp the air back into my lungs.
“Don’t push yet!” the doctor exclaimed.
“Are you sure?” I gasped. “Because I really feel like I should push now.”
Lydia, sharing the doctor’s wonderful view of the place my dignity used to be, shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Just wait, little dove,” Chevalier murmured in my ear.
Another sharp pain hit, and it took everything in me to not push. I squeezed Chevalier's hand instead, and then I realized how hard I was squeezing. "Chevalier, your hand—”
“Don’t worry about me.” He pried his hand free from mine. “You’re stronger than you look.”
I opened my mouth to reply and cried out instead.
“Alright, Queen Ivetta, you need to start pushing with the next contraction,” the doctor said.
“I think we know each other well enough to drop the title,” I panted.
Chevalier was stroking my sweat-slicked hair, trying to keep me calm, but I knew this scared him as much as it did me, and I wanted to tell him everything would be fine. I wanted to tell him this was normal, the pain and the screaming were normal, that every mother went through this. I didn't have the breath or the strength to spare, though.
Torture was horrible. Labor was horrible. But there was no comparing the two beyond that. The pain was different, and at least I knew I had something to look forward to when all of this was over.
But as the hours ticked by, ‘over’ seemed to get further and further away.
The doctor was looking more and more worried. Lydia opened the drapes to let the sunlight in, and I realized I’d been stuck in this miserable cycle of contraction after contraction all night with no progress. My heart sank.
I’d never felt so exhausted in my life, not even in that last week of Mother’s life, when I was lucky if I got four hours of sleep in a single night. At least I was just tired then. Now, I was tired, and weak, and being torn in half.
I couldn’t keep this up.
Something was wrong.
I couldn’t do this for much longer.
They were telling me to do something I couldn’t.
Chevalier had been right.
I shouldn’t have children. I couldn’t have children. And now, it was too late, and his worst fear was happening right in front of his eyes, and I hadn’t written him that letter telling him how much I loved him, and I didn’t even know if the baby would live so he could at least have that much of me.
I closed my eyes and lay my head back against the pillow. I couldn’t do it.
“Almost there! Keep pushing!”
I wasn’t even sure who said that. It didn’t matter.
“Ivetta.”
I knew that voice. That was Chevalier's voice, that was his breath drifting across my ear, that was his hand squeezing mine.
“You’re almost done.”
I could picture his face, the worry etched into every line, although he managed to keep it out of his voice. I remembered him crying when he'd told me he couldn't lose me, and I knew he'd be crying again soon. And it was all my fault. Because I couldn't do this, and I'd said we should try.
“Ivetta.”
“I’m sorry, Chevalier, I can’t. I’m so tired.”
“Look at me, Ivetta.”
I could manage that, at least.
I forced my eyes open and looked into his beautiful blue eyes, eyes my favorite shade of blue, and I saw he was afraid. If he could do this for me, he would, but he couldn’t.
If I could take that fear away from him, I had to.
I had to try.
“I gave you an order, Ivetta," he said, his voice achingly soft. "It's almost over. Just one more.”
One more. I could manage one more.
I took a deep breath and nodded, then I summoned everything I had left for that final push.
And as my scream ended, another began.
“It’s a girl!” Lydia exclaimed.
I closed my eyes again, slumping back against the pillows, too tired to be relieved. Chevalier kissed my forehead.
“You did well, little dove.”
He peeled the sweaty, sticky strands of hair from my face and brushed them back with the rest of my messy hair, then he slipped an arm under my shoulders, holding me close as if I weren’t a disgusting mess of sweat, tears, and blood, touching me as if I were something precious and fragile.
For once, I felt fragile.
But I listened to his heart beating a steady rhythm in my ear, and I listened to our baby squalling somewhere in the room, and I knew we were alive.
He was alive.
I was alive.
Our baby was alive.
And that was all that mattered.
“Would you like to hold her?”
I opened my tired eyes again. Lydia was standing over us, beaming from ear to ear and cradling a fussy bundle in her arms, and I nodded. My arms were shaky as I reached out. Chevalier’s hands came underneath mine, and Lydia passed me the baby, helping me settle her on my chest.
She was red and wrinkly, without the chubbiness that rounded babies out a few days after they came into the world. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, screaming with her tiny mouth as loud as her little lungs could manage.
She was beautiful.
I smiled. “Hello, Evelyn Rose.”
Chevalier was silent beside me. I looked at him, and his blue eyes were wide with wonder.
“This is our daughter, Chevalier.”
He reached toward her, but his hand froze in midair.
“It’s okay, Chevalier. She won’t break.”
He hesitated, and then his fingers moved toward her, trembling as they touched her little cheek. He took a sharp breath. Her face was so small next to his hand.
“She’s so tiny,” he whispered.
“She’s very healthy, and she’s very hungry,” Lydia said. “Are you feeling up to nursing her?”
That didn’t seem like it would take much effort on my part. As long as I didn’t have to move, I could handle it.
I nodded.
“Okay. Let me have her back, then.”
Lydia held her arms out, and Chevalier guided mine to hers.
“Good. And your turn, King Chevalier.”
Before he could react, she’d maneuvered Evelyn Rose from my arms to his, and he was motionless, staring in shock at the tiny baby who didn’t quite reach from his elbow to his wrist.
“Just support her head, like this. Perfect. Now hold still.”
If I had the strength, I would have giggled. “You can breathe, Chevalier.”
“Now, for you,” Lydia said, returning to me. “This should be easy enough. You’re already wearing a maternity nightgown.”
Her continuous chatter distracted me from her untying the laces at the front of my nightgown and pulling the fabric down and to the side; but what was one more personal infraction after she'd acquainted herself with the rest of me? My baby was alive and healthy, my husband was holding her, staring at her with eyes wider than I'd ever seen from him before, and I didn't care anymore that my dignity was long gone.
“Alright, King Chevalier, let’s have that baby again.”
He hadn't moved. His breath escaped him in a rush of air when Lydia took the baby from him, and he followed Evelyn Rose with his eyes as Lydia returned her to my chest. She immediately stopped her screaming and started nursing without assistance.
“You’ll feel more contractions, Ivetta, but they’ll be much weaker than before. They’re just your body getting rid of the afterbirth. You can focus on her, and I’ll stay out of your way until everything’s passed. Then I’ll just get these dirty sheets and leave you to it.”
“Thank you, Lydia. And—where’s the doctor?”
“Oh, he left after he finished attending to Evelyn Rose. If I don’t miss my guess, he’s telling the good news to the rest of the palace. Let me know if you need anything.”
I returned my gaze to Evelyn Rose. She was calm now that she had what she wanted, suckling in peace, and the small burst of energy I'd regained at my first sight of her drained out of me. I smiled and closed my eyes again, letting my head rest against the pillow.
Chevalier's lips brushed against my cheek. “How are you feeling, little dove?”
“I’m fine, just tired.”
“Get some rest. You deserve it.”
“You’ve been up all night, too.”
He shifted closer, tucking himself around me, and he kissed my forehead. "You did all the work. Go to sleep, little dove. I'll be right here when you wake up."20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVVFAE4J3ZQ
