"There are two sides to every coin, the head and the tail. You, sir, are certainly the latter."
Madelyn Basset, the Duke of Hastings's little sister, has arrived in London Town in time for her big societal debut. As every other young lady, she hopes...
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She let out an ear-piercing wail that would've made a deaf dog howl in protest. Fortunately, none were nearby and her husband proved to be suffering enough for two.
How did anyone go through this and still come out sane on the other side? The pain medication the physician had given her proved to be as useless as the yelling nurses around her, encouraging her and fumbling around her room with towels and basins of bloody water.
The doctor, who was kneeling at the foot of the bed, head ducked beneath the sheet covering her raised legs, was just as annoying to her in those moments as it felt as if he were doing nothing at all.
"Push, your highness!" He yelled, emerging from the sheet. "I see a head."
"I can't do it," she panted, flopping back onto the pillow. Her grip around Malcolm's hand loosened as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I can't, I can't..."
"Yes, you can," said the Good Prince. He squeezed her hand, although he was sure he already had numerous broken bones in it. "You can, Madelyn."
"Just one more, your highness, come on!"
Madelyn gave it all she had, that push. She screamed until her throat was raw and her cheeks were tinted pink. Her screams of pain were then joined by the contrasting, softer mewling of a newborn baby. She dropped her head back onto the pillow as the doctor and nurses tended to the child.
"Congratulations," he said, swaddling the baby in a blue silk blanket after its umbilical cord had been detached. He handed Madelyn her baby. "You have a little prince."
"He's beautiful," Malcolm whispered, leaning over his little family. The baby had smooth creamy brown skin with the faint presence of brown hair on his head. "Our son."
Madelyn was about to say something but was cut short by another wave of pain coursing through her. Her newborn cried as her hold on him weakened and Malcolm carefully took his son into his arms, looking to the doctor in alarm.
"What's happening?"
The doctor had ducked back under the sheet for a minute before resurfacing.
"There's one more."
Madelyn's eyes widened at the idea of going through that hellish pain again.
"Another child. Get ready to start pushing your highness, on my count."
"Oh, Lord, give me strength," she prayed. Getting shot was better than this.
