The royal physician, Augustus, was a stout, middle-aged man, with balding hair and a thin beard. He left the palace as soon as he received the note and when he arrived, his wife was breastfeeding their child.
He took off his hat and pressed it against his chest, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. His child has been born. Finally, he was a father. Who would have thought?
The gods had finally shone their light on him, he thought, as he walked slowly to the bed.
"She is beautiful, isn't she?" Margret asked smiling.
"Like her mother," he smiled back. He put his hat down and sat beside her.
Carefully, Margret put the baby in his arm.
"Her eyes," he muttered. Margret nodded knowingly.
The midwife clears her throat, "I hate to interrupt you sir, but this is a matter of urgency."
He looked at Margret, who nodded in agreement.
"We are not safe here," Margret started.
"Why?" his eyes moved from Margret to Rosalind and back to Margret, in confusion.
"There's a chance that our baby might be a…." she breaks off. She bit her lips to hold the tears from spilling. She didn't want him to see her cry, it would break his weak heart.
"Your baby is a witch, Sir. Hence it is not safe for her to be here anymore," the midwife continued. She went ahead to tell him about the fire incident.
"If this gets to the king, both you, your wife, and the baby will be killed for witchcraft. I suggest Margret take the baby far away from Arvenia and raise the baby there if you want her to live."
Augustus had listened quietly, all the while staring at the child sleeping peacefully in his arms. She was defenseless and harmless. How could a child so beautiful and harmless be cursed with such a fate?
"How is it even possible?" he muttered.
"Sir?"
"How can my child be a witch? I am not a witch, neither is my wife, so how is it possible?" He asked quietly. Augustus was known to be calm and soft-spoken, even when angered.
Rosalind glanced at Margret, who in return shrugged her shoulder. "All that matters is the safety of our child," Margret said, taking the child from its father.
"So I will not get to see my child grow?" Augustus asked, his words riddled with pain.
"I will bring her back to you, I promise," Margret gave his hand a light squeeze. "When she's old enough, I will bring her home."
"That is the only way to keep her safe," the midwife added.
"When do you leave?" he turned to his wife, tears gathering in his eyes.
"Tonight," she replied.
His gaze lingered on the child in her arms, "my child...," he whispered.
"She does not have a name yet, sir," Rosalind said trying to force a smile.
"Levina. Her name in Levina."
______
On the same night; in the sky amongst the regular-sized stars stood the star of David, or the King star as the people of Arvenia called it. It was the brightest star in the sky, a third the size of the moon. People from the five kingdoms could see it, without having to strain their eyes. The next king of Arvenia has been born.
Under the King's star, on top of the hill, stood the royal castle. The castle could house two hundred families and ten churches. The castle was surrounded by acres and acres of lush green fields and trees tall enough to touch the sky. Inside the castle, tension cloaked the atmosphere.
The king paced around his chamber in his sleeping robe, occasionally he would pause to look out the window, his eyes loitering for any sign of the midwives.
"It's been more than three hours now, yet I have received no word from the midwives." He groaned. The 6 ft 5 man, was huge and of great build, with thick, curly black hair that fell around his forehead, and huge black eyes that could pierce through his enemy's soul.
"Your Majesty. Please be still. Childbirth takes quite some time. They're both in good hands," his personal adviser, Asmodeus, said. Asmodeus was a tall thin man with a bald head, wrinkles around his mouth, and a pair of wise eyes. Rumors had it that he was a slave the king saved during the war twenty years ago.
"Hadassah went into labor first, she should have delivered by now," the king continued. "What if the king star…" The king looked with hopeful eyes, at Asmodeus, who in return knew where the king was headed.
"That would cause a lot of problems, your majesty. The people will revolt!" he exclaimed.
Hadassah was the King's first love, she had the prettiest blue eyes he had ever seen. She was a half-breed dragon. Her father had fallen in love with a normal human and went on to marry her.
So no matter how much she and the king loved each other, they could not marry as she was not a pure breed dragon. Since he could not wed Hadassah and make her his queen, he took her in as his concubine and married Lucretia.
The dragon bloodline existed as purebred in five kingdoms; Rusevile, Noctia, Arvenia, Ionia, and Lanis. Each kingdom had a royal bloodline and to be able to produce a strong heir, they could only marry a purebred.
The next king of Arvenia must be a purebred; half-breed dragons were known to be weak. Conflict was looming over the five kingdoms, and for Arvenia to retain control over the other four kingdoms, its next king must be anything but weak.
Lucretia and Hadassah had gone into labor at the same time, and the king longed for his heir to be birthed by Hadassah. If Hadassah gave birth to a son, her son would become the crown prince of Arvenia and he will have no other choice but to marry her. That way his council will not question his decision or stand in the way of the marriage.
"They will have no choice but to accept him at the end of the day," King Magnus said, hope etched in his eyes.
...
"What is it? What is it?" Queen Lucretia asked with labored breath. She lay on her back, her disheveled black hair curled at her forehead with sweat.
The midwife smiled, handing the queen her baby, "It's a girl, my queen."
"No. No, it can't be," the woman cried, refusing to take the child. "There has to be a mistake. Check, it's the king's heir."
The midwife looked at the queen startled, "My queen, I checked, it's a girl, see for yourself."
"No, it can't be. It just can't be," Lucretia wailed. She knew the king's star appeared in the stars, she heard when the midwife's assistant came in to inform her about the appearance. If her child wasn't the heir, that could only mean that... Hadassah bore the king's heir.
Her heart broke just at the mere thought of it. She had bragged all through her pregnancy that she was carrying the king's heir in her womb. She would become a laughing stock and an object of mockery amongst the servants and peasants and moreso, she was sure her husband, the king would marry Hadassah and make her queen in her place.
"This cannot happen. It just can't," she cried, her chest running out of air.
The midwife put the wailing child down beside her mother, "My queen, a child is a child. The gender does not matter."
"What about Hadassah?" Lucretia asked ignoring the midwife and the child at her side.
"She lost consciousness while giving birth. Martha is trying to resuscitate her."
"I don't care if she lives or dies. Her child?" Lucretia retorted.
"My queen," the middle-aged woman hesitated,
"It's a boy."