Heir to the throne: Broken Blood

Congrats.

A few moon waxed and waned over several months and one morning Clover awoke with a start, vestiges of a strange dream still clinging to the edges of her consciousness. Her hand went instinctively to her mouth as a wave of nausea washed over her. Could it be...?

Wasting no time, she sought out the palace nurses, her heart thundering with a heady mixture of trepidation and fragile hope. The elderly midwife's knowing smile and solemn nod confirmed her deepest suspicion - she carried new life within her womb.

"Please, fetch my sister Senna at once," Clover instructed, sinking onto a plush settee as the reality set in. The Queen arrived in a rustle of elegant dress, twin eyes shining with concern.

"Clover? The nurses mentioned urgency but would not elaborate..."

Taking a steadying breath, Clover locked eyes with her other half. "I am with child."

A profound silence hung between the sisters before Senna broke into a radiant smile, crossing to enfold Clover in a fierce embrace. "Oh joyous day! But...the father...?" Her brow furrowed delicately as the realization set in.

Clover nodded, unable to give voice to the name as fat tears began tracking down her cheeks. Senna immediately gathered her close once more, stroking her hair in a soothing cadence.

"Hush now, there's no need for such fears. We sisters face everything united, as one, remember?" She pulled back, hands cradling Clover's face. "Is it Notah's child then? The chief's son who has so enraptured your affections?"

Another mute nod was Clover's only response as she struggled to contain her swirling emotions. Senna's eyes blazed with protective ferocity.

"Then we shall face this together, as aunts and dear cousins before us have done when...when circumstances required discretion." She guided Clover's hands to her own swollen belly, resting them against the taught swell. "Our babes will know nothing but love and acceptance within this family."

The chamber door creaked open once more, framing the regal figure of Leonora, Matriarch of the girls.

"So the rumors proved true about a certain daughter of mine blossoming with new life," she pronounced in her deep, rumbling timbre. "Though if the grave expressions both my daughters wear are any indication, there may be more to this impending birth than simple well-wishes and rejoicing?"

Clover opened her mouth to explain, but Senna pre-empted her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "An unexpected joy, to be certain, Mother. But one our family shall unite behind as we forever have."

A wistful expression flickered across Leonora's  features, barely perceptible. "I pray to all the old gods this latest grandchild makes its entrance into this world peacefully. Too many previous descendants of our mighty line..." She shook her head, dispelling the melancholy before it could take root.

As Leonora moved to embrace them both, Clover felt a bone-deep weariness seize her very being. Could this miraculous spark of new life truly be celebrated without reservation? Or would its very existence always remain a source of conflict, pain and tribulation?

She trembled faintly as her mother's leathery belt hung protectively around her waist. Over Leonora's scaled shoulder, she met Senna's steady gaze and drew strength from the blazing conviction she found reflected there. Her path may remain shrouded in uncertainty, but she need not tread too far ahead into the unknown. Not alone at least.

For now, she allowed herself to become momentarily buoyed by the scents of sugary confections baking as the sisters gathered around the hearth. Clover's hands caressed her flat belly, a silent prayer murmured under her breath to any benevolent deities that may glimpse this unborn innocent's plight and goes down to the kotchen to bake.