The holy ruler

The birth of The Queen

As the screams of Queen Genevieve echoed through the chamber, the handmaidens' faces turned pale, their eyes wide with worry. They wore their traditional attire - long, flowing gowns of soft blue and white, adorned with delicate lace and intricate embroidery, symbolizing their service to the royal family. The chambermaid, Anna, stood out among them, her gown a deeper shade of blue, indicating her seniority and trusted position.

King Edward paced outside the chamber, his footsteps heavy and anxious. His face was etched with concern, his brow furrowed, and his eyes sunken with worry. He covered his ears, trying to block out the anguished cries of his wife, his expression a mix of fear and helplessness. His royal attire, usually immaculate, was now disheveled, his coat unbuttoned, and his cravat loosened, revealing a glimpse of his sweat-drenched shirt.

As the queen's screams subsided, a somber handmaiden emerged from the chamber, her eyes downcast. "Your Majesty," she addressed the king, her voice trembling. "The queen...she has passed."

King Edward's expression turned ashen, his eyes frozen in shock. He took a moment to compose himself before asking gruffly, "And the child?"

"The prince is healthy and strong, Your Majesty," the handmaiden replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The king's face relaxed slightly, a hint of relief washing over him. He asked brusquely, "And the other child?"

Anna, the senior handmaiden, stepped forward, her eyes filled with compassion. "The princess, Anastasia, is also healthy, Your Majesty."

King Edward's gaze flicked toward Anna, his expression unreadable. He turned away, his voice cold and detached. "See to the queen's burial preparations. I will attend to my son."

As the king departed with his newborn son, the handmaidens surrounded Anna, their faces filled with concern. She cradled the tiny Princess Anastasia, her eyes locked on the baby's delicate features, her heart heavy with sorrow. The chambermaid's gaze met the king's loyal mistress, Vivian, who stood in the shadows, her eyes gleaming with a calculating intensity Vivian swept into the chamber, a sly, mischievous grin spreading across her countenance, betokening her deep-seated animosity towards the departed queen. Though she harboured lofty ambitions to supplant the monarch, fate had seen fit to relegate her to the humble station of royal mistress, a circumstance that seemed to gall her exceedingly. Whispers of her alleged dalliances with the dark arts had circulated throughout the court, earning her the dubious reputation of a sorceress, a notion that Anna appeared to credit, judging by her wary demeanour as she clutched the infant princess to her bosom.

"What business do you have here, Vivian?" Anna demanded, her tone firm but polite, as was befitting a humble handmaiden addressing a member of the royal entourage. "This is a place of mourning, not merriment. The queen's passing has cast a pall of sorrow over the entire palace."

Vivian's scowl deepened, her voice dripping with disdain. "And what, pray tell, are you doing with the Princess of England? You are naught but a humble maid, Anna. Hardly a suitable custodian for royalty. Her Majesty would never have countenanced such a arrangement, were she still among us."

Anna's eyes brimmed with tears as she replied, "His Majesty has seen fit to entrust me with the care of Princess Anastasia, now that our beloved queen has passed into eternal slumber. I am but a humble servant, endeavouring to execute my duties to the utmost of my abilities."

Vivian's eyes rolled heavenward, her gaze lingering on the infant with a look of distaste, as if the very sight of the child was an affront to her sensibilities. "Foolishness," she muttered, before taking her leave with a rustle of silken skirts, her departure prompting the baby to erupt into a fit of wailing.

Anna's gentle ministrations soon soothed the child, her own thoughts drifting to the uncertain future that lay ahead for the young princess. As she gazed out the window, the weight of Anastasia's destiny settled upon her shoulders, a burden she vowed to bear with steadfast devotion, even as the shadows of the palace seemed to whisper warnings of the trials to come.