[1328 January 1]
Still clouds cast gray over the Capital. The chilled winter air was oppressive upon the palace militia's skin, compelling their hairs to stand whilst patrolling for suspicious persons and clues.
Footsteps rushed about with a cadence, the heavy clinks of their armor were the beats. In the tense atmosphere, a song of forbearance played, causing the people to wait in agony for the blood bath to come. And watching from above, curious heads peered into the window of the medical hall. The shutters were closed to prevent the cold from passing, yet they were permeable through the cracks in the blinds, allowing for the peculiar audience.
The black birds watched and listened and through frequent caws, mocked the punctuated cries coming from inside.
From his study across the courtyard, the King watched the crows in turn. Their existence seemed as if they knew the flaws and secrets buried inside the walls. Their presence further enriched his irritation. 'Later,' he promised himself. Later, he would have every black bird hunted within the city, have their feathers plucked and used for more arrows to shoot them down with. Yes, he'd command them to extinction.
Behind him stood the Chief Eunuch and a sentinel with a report. The old sir had perspiration beading on his face from the day's events. So much had happened but the sun hadn't even reached high sky yet. As the first day of the new year, the morning was supposed to be entangled with prolonged ritual and ceremony. Who knew that as soon as morning arrived, chaos would ensue?
In a discordant voice unique to a eunuch, he explained, "Your Majesty, the handmaid who was suspected of assassinating the Concubine and Prince was found with an unnatural red scar below her breast bone. We believe the scar was the selling mark of a former master."
"Around the fifth hour, she tried to escape with a forged note from Concubine Leena. However, she was quickly taken for questioning due to a minor error noticed by this guard. Half a wick later, the attack occurred. Her disappearance was too timely. And the servants reported that they have never seen the Concubine write a note. The one who had caught the suspect is here."
The King's eyes did not stray from the hall below. He should be there, welcoming his long awaited prince to the world. He had been a father a dozen times, however, not once had he been given a son. Or, at least one that was born alive.
Remembering this pained the King even more. He was already in his thirties, passing his youth into middle age. He had been sitting on the throne for almost fifteen years and a rightful heir had yet to be born. He needed a son. Besirique Kingdom needed a son. The importance of the child being born at this moment could not be emphasized enough.
With a cold look in his eyes, the King turned and looked to the armored guard. The man had his head lowered but had a straight spine. "What error cause your suspicion?"
The guard didn't raise his gaze to look at the king. Respectfully, he recounted, "Reporting to Your Majesty. The maid had stated that Concubine Esque had awakened half a candlewick before with the request of salted winter plums from the Becks Market. The guard house already noted that the other maid who regularly goes on errands outside was given leave to see her family, which is why the task fell into her hands. The suspect said she had to hurry as the Concubine wished to eat some before the festivities. This servant considered this odd as I remembered the Becks Market closed on the first day of the year and the only places open would be the small markets in the outer city. This is common knowledge among servants. And Concubine Esque… She should have known this considering her background."
The guard continued past his rude comment. "Furthermore, if the Concubine had just written it, the ink would have smudged when rolled. However, the parchment was bone dry. Not only that, but the smell of ink was faint."
The young guardsman's keen observation was impressive. His quick thinking from such a small interaction prevented a key suspect from fleeing. 'If only other people in the palace could have spotted the maid beforehand… It seems that no matter how many years pass, there will always be those who are incompetent.'
"Very good. After the safe birth of the Prince, you will receive a reward. Whose son are you?"
The guard hid any excitement, seeming more tempered in the King's eyes. "The servant is the third son of Count Fullerton of Nefwik, Joan Fullerton."
"We will remember this. Go down."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
~
On the other side of the courtyard, an anguishing groan echoed through the long halls. Anxious maids ran in basins of hot water only to rush out with rags of red. The process repeated countless times. The continuous loss of blood was concerning to all those who could see, but a woman's blood-loss was not as important as the safe delivery of the child. Inside the medicinal hall were a total of four maids, one doula, and the head maid of Concubine Leena.
The head maid wiped the sweat of her Concubine. Worry filled her eyes as the birth was progressing much faster than it should. Her Concubine was tired, but the crown of the Son was already pushing through.
The doula smeared more green paste around Her Highness's nether regions to numb the pain. If Concubine Leena could move right now, she would have flung the bowl straight out of the doula's hands as the green paste did nothing to aid her tearing flesh.
The Concubine tilted her head to face the other side of the hall where another bed lay. From that side, a child's faint cries had slowly quietened as he was cleaned and swaddled in white linen.
Only one maid stood at the Lady's bedside with worry on her face. In her arms was a newborn, another royal prince but he was not of the King's blood. The small thing wasn't due for another month, but he was born with strong lungs, four limbs, ten toes and ten fingers. The Concubine breathed in with determination. Her child would be the same. Her son had been in her belly for more than nine months. He will be stronger.
The doula handed the bowl to the servant as she encouraged, "That's it, Your Highness. The Prince's head has lowered. You must push. A son is about to be born!"
Concubine Leena didn't allow herself to continue to be distracted. She focused on her breathing and pushed downward. Since the day she stepped into the Imperial Palace, she had been favored. A girl like her wasn't supposed to enjoy such glory and wealth. She was born to be outside of these walls living a mundane life that one should with a background as lowly as hers. But maybe it was God's pity that gifted her with a face that had the power to attract the King's attention. The gentle King with a harem full of the most beautiful women had chosen her. His favor had given her grace and dignity. In return she will give him an heir.
She pushed and pushed and pushed until she felt a vein in her forehead pop and exclamations from the women were heard. A rush of blood was in her ears, or maybe it was a rush of quietness. In any case, with blurry vision, she saw the doula take her child, her son. Nothing else could be seen or heard after that.
Her delivery may have been short, but it did not mean everything was smooth. Through her fading consciousness, she recalled how the maids had to replace the bloody water many times. Regardless, she had done it. The heir to the Kingdom has been born. She is the mother of the Prince and from this point onward, her position has been established.
A sigh of relief passed through her pale lips. My God, thank you.
Truly, she was grateful.