She was already eight months pregnant when the duchess of northern Ireland, Abigail Dallas, married the baron of Scotland, Juniper Whiteblossom.
If all went well, the two should have celebrated their marriage three months earlier and inside the huge and majestic Westminster Abbey, where it was tradition that each member with royal blood would celebrate their union for life.
But at that moment and those conditions, it was the choice of both spouses to celebrate the wedding in a smaller place and closed exclusively to relatives and guests of the highest nobility.
They knew they had broken tradition but on his side however much Juniper might have accepted the premarital pregnancy of his wife, he was not yet ready, for the people to know all this or for rumors to be created about Abigail's fidelity.
So they got married outdoors, in front of the small chapel which had belonged to the royal family for centuries.
In this way, Abigail could also have remained more relaxed and not suffer the anxiety and pressure of carriages or eyes constantly fixed on her.
They had set up a large and verdant arch of fragrant bay leaves, the leaves of wisdom, and at the same time they had set up, in front of the arch, a small olive wood lectern on which the Holy Scriptures were located.
The ceremony would take place according to the Catholic rite, according to the religion that the husband professed, but it had not been of any inconvenience to Abigail.
On the other hand, Protestant or Catholic, it had never made too much difference, she knew of the past antagonism of the two factions, but this was not their case.
The God was always the same and she could not understand how people taken by pride could fight to determine who was better or worse.
Besides, they were all children of God, and as a father God loved them, or was that not what the scriptures professed?
Abigail in those days had also become a great devotee of the virgin Mary, because on the other hand, he saw her as she did, and for this he respected her.
Inside the chapel there was thus an ancient statue of Mary, in olive wood, which she carried Jesus in her arms, with impassive maternal love, with the heart of a mother, and this pleased her enormously.
She too would have loved her baby regardless of whether boy or girl and she would have loved it with all her heart.
That day was far too hot for a normal June day and the sun, shining and gold-coloured shone on them, in the blue cloudless sky.
Abigail was magnificent, she wore her candid wedding dress, with such grace and majesty that it almost looked like a worthy queen, a royal.
Her long red hair, like the colour of fire, had been neatly folded into curls, which now ran down her back under her fine white veil.
Juniper could not help but be enchanted to observe the splendid face of his bride, her small and soft cheeks covered by a faint blush, her soft lips coloured red with precious Turkish wax, her big green eyes like emerald, the dark freckles that covered part of her nose.
Abigail noticed the small attentions he gave her, exchanged her gaze with her husband's blue eyes, smiled, squeezed his hand.
The two loved each other and this was evident.
Juniper would have preferred to have his cousin, Prince Henry, as a wedding witness, but from the fact that he was not present and his only relative left was Isabelle, it seemed almost rude not to grant the princess that honour.
Abigail's wedding witnesses had become without delay her two maternal cousins, the Dustin twins and Juniper was almost in awe of them, as it seemed they were so attached to Abigail that they cast intimidating glances at the baron.
-Are you excited?- a whisper came out of the young woman's lips, as if she didn't seem to want to be heard by the priest or anyone else.
Juniper smiled and shook his head slightly making his bride feel bad for the first few seconds.
-I'm happy- concluded him making Abigail think again for a few seconds -happy that in a few seconds we will be husband and wife-.
The young woman smiled but that was her last smile before something terrible happened.
Her belly began to ache so much that she had to, out of respect, suffocate her pain in her throat but a few seconds later a transparent liquid began to come out of her body until it wet her magnificent dress.
Her contractions had begun, Abigail knew that her baby had decided to come into the world during the eighth month of pregnancy.
Nobody in the first place noticed the young woman and her hidden and strangled worries and this managed to hold up until the moment in which both spouses consecrated their love for life.
The "I do" that came out of the duchess' soft lips was so full of pain that it was soon clear to everyone what was happening.
Abigail clutched her hands around her belly, she knew she had to lie down, she knew the baby wouldn't wait any longer.
As soon as she understood the situation, Brooke, who was sitting composedly among the participants, managed as quickly as possible to reach her.
She held her by the forearms and as she held her she could see the pain cover her delicate face.
-The baby...- Abigail let a pained whisper come out of her lips -it...it is coming-.
At those words, Brooke seized by panic and emotion did not mind calling some royal guards for help, so that they escorted the future mother inside the infirmary.
At that strange order an enormous jealousy began to grow in Isabelle's body, she too had a baby in her womb, for four months now, and in any case it should have been her command to call the guards.
The princess had never in her life had the opportunity to communicate with Brooklyn, that rebellious and undisciplined young man but she would not have in the future let him give orders to her own servants.
It was in this way that in the company of the guards and the pregnant Abigail, Isabelle also voluntarily decided to leave the marriage to witness the birth of that illegitimate child in person.
Juniper observed the emotion in her cousin's clear and bright eyes and was frightened by it.
It did not take long for the guards to bring the young woman inside the infirmary and most curiously of all, upon her arrival the midwife had rushed inside the room.
She was an old woman for the time but a certain look of wisdom and knowledge seemed to shine in her eyes.
-Don't you fear lady Abigail...- the princess reassured her holding the duchess hands -this midwife has experience, just think that in the past it was she who helped my mother to give birth and even before she had witnessed the birth of Prince Henry-.
But in her heart she was not afraid, she knew this elderly woman had experience and in addition she knew the task of midwives was only granted to women who already had many children, in addition she knew a royal midwife had to be particularly expert and delicate.
The young woman was thus stripped of her precious marriage dress and she was dressed in a gown similar to one that was usually worn at night.
Her red hair was tied behind her back in a long, tight braid, and it was at that moment that her contractions began to get stronger so much so that her labor began.
Some attendants closed the dark curtains of the huge arched windows to make the pregnant woman take a more closed and quiet look, so that she could not see the sun.
The midwife slowly removed the lower part of the girl's dress until she was able to observe what was actually going on.
-I need a basin of water, a clean cloth and at the right time a blade, possibly heated by the flame of the fire- the elderly woman ordered to the attendants, in an attempt to help the duchess in childbirth.
-What is your age?- the midwife ventured to ask looking at Abigail.
That question at the time was not at all kind or polite to ask a noble girl but Abigail knew she had to answer, she had to do it for her child.
-Sixteen...- the girl exhaled from her mouth in pain -sixteen years old-.
The elderly woman seemed relieved, a short smile soon stood out on her wrinkled face.
She knew well that for such young women, who for the first time lived the experience of becoming mothers it was necessary to speak calmly and patiently to avoid stress or complications in childbirth.
The midwife gently took the soft legs of the young woman and spread them further so that the baby's head could have room to get out of her.
It was no longer strange for her to assist a childbirth, the midwife slowly began passing a sheet of fine white linen to clean up any possible blood, which was already beginning to come out of the duchess' body.
The young woman handled the pain well, so much so that for the first part of labor when the pain was still lighter Abigail did not even deign to complain but it was inevitable for her to start screaming in pain as she began to feel that her head of the baby was slowly starting to come out.
The womb of the duchess trembled, it was repeatedly hit from inside her by small taps of the feet, as if the new born himself was trying to make his way up to her waist.
-It won't take much longer... - the midwife heartened her trying to do the best of her to be able to relieve the pains of the young woman.
The room was immersed in darkness, it was to give calm and quiet to the young mother as the child pushed more and more to be able to get out of her womb, she screamed.
It didn't take long for the tiny little head to start poking wet out of the mother's body and after that it was only natural for her little body to slip out of her.
A cry broke, after an intense hour of labor the silent and lonely look that had been created, it was a desperate cry.
Abigail felt relieved, excited and finally free of any other bodily pain, she had done it, she had survived, just like her baby, just like Gilbert's baby.
She smiled and thus placed her head and her hair, now freed from the tight and oppressive braid on her soft and white pillow.
-It's a boy, my lady- the midwife announced holding the baby in her hands -it is a beautiful and healthy boy- thus concluded to comment taking the light blade heated with a flame of fire, she severed the umbilical cord who still connected the baby to the mother.
Those words immediately froze the blood in Isabelle's veins, who without a word had witnessed the birth of another possible usurper to the throne.
However, the princess observed that child in the face, that newborn, Gilbert's son, who was delicately being cleaned by the midwife with towels and hot water.
She looked at his sweet little face, his hair an almost peculiar coppery red, his still half-closed black eyes.
He was small, he was sweet and strangely a maternal instinct began to awaken in the princess, she understood that even with all the strength in her body she could never end the life of that little child still smelling of blood.
He had also inherited a lot from his father, whom the princess had briefly loved in her life, the baby had the same eyes and even if sweeter and more childish, the same facial features as his father.
The baby, now calmed by his crying, was soon placed on the white gown that then covered the womb of the young mother.
Abigail held her son for a long time.
That small body was warm and from the very beginning, peering with his little eyes, he had begun to explore the world.
The duchess stroked his auburn and fair red hair, it was soft, fluffy, like a cloud or fine fabric.
She was immediately asked if she would like to rest after giving birth but she quickly shook her head and asked for visits to the newborn to be opened.
Abigail knew it was against all rules but she felt Juniper's closeness, she felt that he had been behind the huge door for some time and had assisted her.
And as soon as the door was opened, with almost innate speed the baron rushed into the room, now luminous again.
He rushed to embrace and kiss his bride and to welcome the new born.
Juniper looked at him for a long time with his own eyes, the baby was small, silent, he lay calmly in his mother's arms.
-I'm really sorry to have ruined our marriage- Abigail mourned lowering her gaze to her little son -and I don't pretend to accept my son, Gilbert's son, as yours...but I just wish we could live well together-.
At those words the baron gently took the little one in his arms and brought the newborn close to his body, he looked at him carefully as he moved, as he observed the surroundings with curious eyes.
The baby boy squeezed a finger of the young man with one of his little hands and just in that moment of closeness, it was that Juniper fully decided to accept the baby, starting to cry with emotion.
-Welcome to this world- Juniper smiled at him as the little one was already starting to make his first sounds -welcome to this world Rudolph, my son-.
-Rudolph?- slowly came out of Abigail's smiling lips -I like that name-.