In the deep blue of very early morning on the twentieth day of the second month of spring, Luvenia woke with a twinge. She wondered if she ought to be concerned about it, but tiredness won over her curiosity, and she drifted back to slee–
Her lower body clenched, forcing her awake with a gasp. The feeling gradually subsided; her heart was beating too quickly for her to relax again, so she sat up and waited to see what would happen next.
After a few minutes, just as she was beginning to think it had gone away, the tension came back, tightening her midsection.
"Hanna..." Her voice was hardly above a whisper. She took a deep breath and tried again. "Hanna!"
Creaking; the sound of wood splintering; hurried footsteps; an angry noise of metal going in a direction it didn't want to go as the door was forced open.
"You called for me, madam?"
"Hanna, I–" She swallowed hard. "I think... it's starting."
Hanna's eyes widened. "Now?!"
"Yes, now. Get your cloak, please."
She braced herself as another contraction took hold. Hanna was back before it released her.
"Shall I carry you?"
"No. The doctor said I should walk. Just– help me into my robe."
It felt unbecoming to leave the suite in her dressing-gown and slippers, but there was no use in putting on more clothes now. Anyway, Gorogon had already seen as much of her as there was to see.
Right—Gorogon.
As soon as her robe was tied, Luvenia pulled the bell-cord to summon a maid. Usually she could recall which one was on duty overnight, but at the moment her mind was somewhat preoccupied.
Mollie met them at the suite door, bleary-eyed but determined. "Madam?"
"Go to his majesty's chambers. If you run into a footman along the way, have him do it, but otherw–" She winced and steadied herself on the doorframe. "Otherwise, knock on the door and let him know it's time."
"Time...? –Oh, bless me, madam, I must still be half asleep. I'll go at once."
Luvenia was quietly pleased that Mollie had been on duty. All her maids were wonderful, but Mollie was the right woman for this particular errand. Mellie would be too self-conscious; Millie's relationship with the king had become complicated after the "spy/assassin" revelation; Myra might physically drag the king out of bed, which would be effective but less than ideal.
"We'd– oof. We'd best hurry."
"Take my arm, your majesty."
"Thank you."
She leaned heavily on Hanna as they inched along the corridor. Their progress left something to be desired; by the time they reached the first intersection of hallways, the contractions were strong enough to make her stagger.
There was a sudden wetness on her legs. She halted, unsure how to proceed, mortified by the thought of leaving a trail on the carpet.
"Madam?"
"Ah– wait, I– Let me catch my breath, and then–"
The pressure of the next contraction turned to pain. She cried out and clung desperately to Hanna's arm.
"Perhaps you should– oh, gods–!"
Hanna seemed to understand. She picked up Luvenia and carried her the rest of the way to the doctor's rooms. Luvenia held on tight, trying to brace against the pain that racked her body.
"Doctor!"
The door to the medical suite opened, and Dr. Danacy shuffled into view, wearing what appeared to be white linen trousers and a top to match.
"In! In in in!!!" She practically pushed Hanna inside. "Sit down! I must examine!"
Luvenia's breathing hitched. "Doc– doctor, it– wet, and– hurts–"
"Yes, yes. All this we knew was to happen, but it is harder when it is happening, yes?"
Her answer turned into a whimper.
"Do not hold in the pain! You must scream it out! The pain does not care if you make a secret of it. Scream and cry and move your body to make it less!"
Seventeen years in the royal palace of Alatir had taught Luvenia the art of silence; a year in the royal palace of Middewold had not fully undone those teachings. Still, encouraged by the doctor's coaxing, she made an effort to give voice to her pain.
Gorogon burst into the suite at the exact moment that Dr. Danacy hiked up Luvenia's nightgown to her waist. There was a brief moment of mutual embarrassment before the doctor snapped at the king to go to the next room and wash his hands.
"Why?"
"Because I may have a need for more hands than mine. Go! Do what it is that you must do!"
As a fierce contraction seized her, Luvenia closed her eyes, but it only amplified the pain, so she opened them again and fixed her gaze on the top of the doctor's head.
"The fluid is burst, and the body makes itself ready. It is well so far." Dr. Danacy looked up with a reassuring smile. "It seems to be that the body of her majesty was making ready while she was sleeping. It is very well! The baby will be born today, I am very nearly certain. We can begin to follow the plan."
Luvenia did not remember the plan. She just did whatever the doctor told her to, and let Hanna move her into the indicated positions.
There was no concept of time, nor place, nor shame. There was pain—sometimes fleeting, sometimes lingering, sometimes dull, sometimes sharp—but always lurking in her body, inexorable, unstoppable. Her groans, screams, and tears were useless. Clenching her fists, bracing her legs, rocking back and forth—none of it could relieve her agony. She could only catch her breath between contractions and let the others help: Hanna supported her, Gorogon gave her sips of water and wiped the sweat pouring down her face, and Dr Danacy applied warm compresses to ease... some part of the process that she couldn't quite remember, but it was doubtless very important.
It might have been hours or days later that she became aware of a change in the nature of the pain.
"I need–" she started to say, just as Dr Danacy spoke:
"It is time, lady majesty. You must push now."
Luvenia already knew. Her body was telling her in no uncertain terms what to do next. Gritting her teeth, she bore down as hard as she could.
"Again! Again! Do not give up!"
She made no attempt to count how many times she tried and was told to try again. The doctor's voice took on a shrill edge, but the words themselves began to blur. Gorogon's voice blended into the overall soundscape as well.
Then a voice in her ear, low and gentle and loving: "Just once more, my queen."
With the last of her strength, Luvenia pushed just once more.
Someone shouted in excitement. They sounded happy. She tried to look at them, and found she could not focus her eyes properly.
Something had... changed...
The pain had faded, but there was nothing to take its place. The urgency was gone. Time ground to a halt.
"–blood–"
She heard the word distinctly. Whose blood? She hoped it was not the baby's blood—not Cairon's—not after all those months of waiting, of hardship, of nurturing the life inside her–
The doctor's voice, commanding. Gorogon's voice, anxious but firm. Hanna's voice, riddled with panic.
"Hanna," she tried to say; her lips moved to form the syllables, but the breath to utter them would not come to her.
She was being moved—not by Hanna. Someone else, not as strong, not as controlled, but strangely and distantly familiar.
"Poor princess," murmured a voice she almost recognized.
The last sound she heard, impossibly, was that of her mother weeping.
***
Luvenia knew she was dreaming when she saw herself across the room.
She saw two figures bent over her pale form, the tiny Dr Danacy, and a doctor she recognized from her past: Dr Orrice, her childhood physician. His face was creased with age and anxiety, but she knew him at a glance, as he had been the only one to truly care for her after her mother's death.
Though her heart warmed to see Dr Orrice, she felt uncomfortable watching the two doctors touch her half-naked body, so she turned away—and found herself in the hall outside, where Gorogon was passing the bundled baby to a woman she vaguely recognized as Cairon's wet nurse.
As the wet nurse walked away, cooing gently to the baby, Gorogon's attention shifted to the cloaked figure kneeling in the middle of the hallway.
"She'll be all right." Gorogon did not sound at all certain. "She's a brave girl—a wonderful woman. She won't leave us like this. We just... need to be strong."
Hanna's hood fell away as she threw her head back. She laughed hysterically with tears streaming down her face.
"Strong?!" She clutched at her head, her fingers digging into her scalp. "Strength is all I have—but what use is this monstrous strength if I can't protect her??"
Hanna hunched over, bowing nearly to the ground.
"Okiri and Ozazi, Onibi and Oreda... Take my strength, take my life, but let her live... let her live..."
Luvenia tried to embrace her, but her arms went straight through Hanna's body. Her heart ached as she looked helplessly at her distraught beloved.
"Hanna," she tried to say, but once more found she had no breath to support the words. Panic began to grip her. Was this a dream, or—
"Lulu."
Luvenia turned toward the voice that had called her by a pet name she had not heard in over ten years.
A woman who shared her dark hair gazed at her with deep affection in her dark eyes.
"Go back, Lulu."
Stunned, Luvenia let the woman lead her back to where the doctors were tending to her body.
"My precious girl." The woman kissed her forehead. "It's time to return. We mustn't break Orrice's heart."
Luvenia felt herself being drawn back toward her own body. In vain she reached for the woman's hand.
"Mother–!"
The world faded once more.