Layla's childhood was as ordinary as a daughter's whose mother had passed away early in her life could be. Growing up surrounded by a dominant presence of male figures in her life, she turned into a strong, courageous individual, prepared to tackle...
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The secluded room's doors that had continuously been thrown open and closed a few minutes ago had been shut for a while. The maids that had entered the room, carrying the various necessities to deal with the critical situation at hand and an oil lantern to illuminate their way in the darkness of the night, had not emerged from it either.
A man enveloped in a large, dark cloak stood outside those doors, and silently paced ahead of it as he fiddled with the brim of his black worn-out hat. A single drop of sweat traveled down his forehead, indicating the unease he felt, which he managed to conceal with the strong composure he held.
"Anytime now, anytime now," he repeatedly told himself, almost as if he knew that something had actually went wrong.
The painful screams coming from within the four walls behind the doors in front of which he stood had ceased as well; however, no one had come out to inform him about the situation inside the room.
The man abruptly stopped in his tracks, facing the wooden doors. "What if something terrible had truly happened?" he thought to himself.
Taking it upon himself to verify the status of the situation in order to make sure everything was well, he approached the doors and raised his fist to knock on its surface. Before his hand could make contact with the door, the latter opened wide, knocking him away from the entrance. He stumbled as he took a few steps back before quickly regaining his composure.
"I–I'm so sorry, Sir. I did not know that you were–," a rather young maid said, her voice faltering. Her eyes were wide open, which was understandable due to the circumstance that had occurred, yet they were undeniably brimmed with unshed tears.
The man brought his right hand forward, silently ordering the young girl to keep quiet. "I do not have time for this," he said while adjusting his charcoal-colored cloak on his broad shoulders. "The infant?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.
The young maid looked down as she said in an inaudible tone, "I–It's a young prince, Sir."
A small grin made its way on the tall man's face, but disappeared just as quickly as it came. He nodded in acknowledgement and said, "I must see for myself."
He began walking towards the room, but the young girl stood in his way, her body shaking out of what seemed like fear. "I don't think this is the right moment, Sir. The Queen, she–"
"I have direct orders from the King," he said, interrupting her at once by raising his voice. "A lot of time has elapsed already, and the King is growing impatient. I must report back to him at once. Step aside young lady," the man said.
He barged into the room, pushing away the young woman, until he got to see the scene for himself. An elder maid used one of her hands to shut the Queen's eyes shut as delicately as she could while the other maids assisting the woman in the delivery were on their knees around the Queen's bed, handkerchief placed in front of their face as they sobbed quietly.
The man understood what this meant. "The Queen...," he began, his voice trailing off.
"She is no more," the old maid replied stiffly. "The King needs to be informed about this at once."
The man nodded. "I shall take care of that. I must, however, see the infant at this moment," he replied apathetically.
The elder maid stood from the bed, placing the Queen's hands on her stomach, and walked to a crib, a small wood structure with no decorations as one would expect from the royal family, in which rested the newborn.
The King's right-hand man looked at the child carefully for a few seconds and instantly left the room with a satisfactory smile, undetectable behind the hat he used to cover his face. The newborn was a Prince, and he had been given the royal mark: a tattooed representation of the royalty symbol, a black crown adorned with lily flowers, near the infant's left shoulder. The King would certainly be pleased to know that an heir for his kingdom was now born.
At the same instant, beyond the walls of the castle, a woman, also known as the Queen's trustee, made her way away from the castle as quickly as she could through the darkness that surrounded her, using an old oil lamp to illuminate her way. She kept walking in long strides, knowing a storm was on its way due to the occasional rain drops that fell on her.
She knew she had to escape from the castle without getting caught for the Queen's sake. "I believe in you," were the last words the Queen had spoken to her. She had always been good to her, and the maid, in return, had proven her gratitude through her loyalty towards the Queen.
As she marched over the hill separating the castle from the nearby village in which she lived, the maid thought to herself, looking down at the glowing face of the child she carried in her arms, wrapped in her dark shawl, "You will come back here when the time is right. I will make sure of it my little princess."
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Author's Note
First things first, I'd like to say a massive 'thank you' to anyone who decided to give this story a chance! (:
This chapter is intended to be the 'backbone' of the story. There will be a few unanswered questions as you start reading the story, but hopefully I'll be able to provide satisfying answers in the following chapters.
I hope you enjoy reading my story if you decide to give it a chance! I appreciate any feedback and/or suggestions regarding the plot, the writing, or anything in general. You may vote/comment on chapters to show your support, and don't feel shy to point out any mistakes I made haha
