24 April, 1370. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
Celia couldn't stop her giggles as she held Gabriel up in the air, the way she knew he loved. The baby's joyful laughter filled the room and warmed her heart.
All the nurses and maids regularly commented on what a content child he was, always smiling and only really fussing when he was hungry.
"He's the easiest babe in the world to care for." the flame haired wet nurse, who Celia had since discovered was named Bridgette, had once told her. "Everyone talks about how he's nothing but joy and dimples."
Joy and dimples. The description fitted Gabriel perfectly. Celia raised him over her head again, soaking in his coos of glee.
He'd grown tremendously in the last several weeks. The tiny, sleeping bundle was now a plump rosy cheeked baby who loved wriggling out of his swaddle at almost every nap. His hair had grown into a mop of golden brown curls that everyone fussed over.
