2 December, 1369. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
Celia looked dolefully around her bedchamber. It had happened.
She was officially in confinement. It meant she wouldn't be allowed to leave the room for forty days after she'd given birth.
Like with most things in her adoptive country, an elaborate ritual existed to mark the start of a royal confinement. This was especially true when it involved an heir to the throne.
Her maids had woken her up before dawn to start getting her bathed and ready. Celia had wanted to scream. She'd even threatened not to leave her bed.
"What fresh torment is this? I'm not moving! I refuse! You'll all have to drag me out of bed and roll me down to the chapel!" she'd howled.
She'd eventually moved, of course. While she was a tired woman with a constant backache, she was also a princess that had been schooled in duty and obedience.
