𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

𝟎

-<༻𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞༺>-

In the grand, candlelit chambers of the royal palace, the cries of a newborn echoed through the halls, heralding the arrival of Princess Clove Isabelle. With her first breath, she filled the air with life, but her entrance was not met with the joy typically reserved for a royal birth. Instead, Queen Amelia Abigail Kentwell's heart sank as she clutched her newborn daughter, staring at the tiny face that would soon be subject to the burdens of royalty. She had long anticipated the birth of her first child, counting the days until the moment she would hold her son, the heir to the Kentwell throne.

Yet, as the midwife placed Clove in her arms, Amelia felt a wave of despair wash over her. "𝑵𝒐, 𝒏𝒐," she whispered, her voice trembling as tears brimmed in her eyes. The weight of reality bore down upon her, for she knew all too well the limitations imposed on females within the royal family. A daughter, in this world of tradition and expectation, meant a life of duty and sacrifice, a life she had lived herself, one she had fought desperately to escape.

Moments later, the cries of a second child broke through her turmoil, filling the room with a sweetness that contrasted sharply with her despair. The midwife gently handed Prince Christian Jame to her, and Amelia's heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of love and apprehension. Clove was born first, yet it was her brother who would inherit the crown, the very title Amelia had dreamed of for her son. This twist of fate would ripple through the halls of the palace and beyond, setting the stage for a future fraught with conflict and unfulfilled ambitions. As the queen gazed at her children, a silent promise formed in her heart: she would protect them both from the suffocating expectations of the kingdom, even if it meant defying the very laws that bound them.

The door swung open with a hurried creak, and King Maverick Liam Kentwell rushed into the chamber, concern etched across his handsome features. The sight of his wife cradling the two newborns sent a rush of relief through him, but that relief quickly faded as he noticed the tear-streaked face of Queen Amelia. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, kneeling beside her. "Amelia, sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.

"She was born first," Amelia replied, her voice barely above a whisper, each word laced with a sorrow that struck Maverick like a blow. He felt the weight of her anguish settle heavily in the room, the implications of her words hanging in the air like an unspoken curse. In that instant, he understood—the crown, the expectations, and the law that dictated their children's fates. He sighed, the gravity of the moment pressing down on him as he sat beside her, feeling helpless.

Just then, the doctor who had delivered the twins entered the chamber, her expression professional yet sympathetic. "𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒑𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒕?" She said, breaking the somber silence that had enveloped them.

Maverick and Amelia exchanged a glance, a shared understanding passing between them as they contemplated the significance of their children's names in a world governed by rigid tradition. With a gentle nod, Amelia spoke first, her voice steadier now. "𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑰𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑱𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍," she responded, a sense of finality in her tone. The names echoed in the chamber, carrying the weight of their lineage and the burden of their future.