Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 134

Chapter 134: Choose carefully
Anaisa held her breath as King Harold eyed his daughter.

“Denholm, and Ben.” The monarch told her. “I stand in favor of the former, but you did mention the latter as having potential. They are both young enough, and seem moldable. I think with time either could be turned into a good leader.”

“Ben!” Sapphira piped up immediately. “If those are the choices, I’ll live with his snark. Truly!”

“I promised each of them a final audience before announcing my decision,” The king warned, “and you will fulfill that vow.”

“It’s a formality,” Sapphira waved her hand. “Fine, I will put up with Denholm for half an hour and then never have to see him again, correct? Not that I’m entirely eager to spend more time with Ben, but he seemed to be the least objectionable of the lot.”

Trace coughed slightly, and Anaisa’s eyes cut to him. He winked at her, and she remembered saying something very similar about him early on in their marriage. Maybe this was a good sign for poor Ben.

Anaisa wanted to sag with relief that Barnabas’s son wouldn’t marry into such power. Of course, things weren’t over yet. She would feel even better after Sapphira was married and she could prove the terrible plot Barnabas had wrought on all of them.

“Be courteous to all the nobility,” King Harold’s eyes narrowed sternly at his daughter, “you displayed a startling lack of that numerous times in our meetings, and that will not be acceptable. In a kingdom where the nobility feels disrespected, the monarchy becomes unstable. We cannot allow that to happen.”

Sapphira looked as if she might respond in her usual sassy way, but the seriousness in her father’s face seemed to get through to her. Perhaps because Anaisa had just relayed to her the extent to which she knew of Barnabas, Count of Oakdown’s, treachery.

“Father, I wanted to talk to you about that…” The Princess began cautiously, and Anaisa’s stomach clenched. She hadn’t wanted to tell the king anything until she had some kind of proof! Trace had hidden or destroyed the blackmail letters, so she had nothing to give but her word.

She couldn’t even count on Trace or Sanders to be able to support her theories. The king would think it the ramblings of a woman angry over the fact that she wasn’t a noble after all!

Anaisa moved forward to try to catch Sapphira’s attention and discourage her from sharing. After all, the princess could choose her groom; there was no immediate danger of Barnabas’s takeover.

A pounding at the door interrupted all conversation as the king turned in consternation.

“Who dares interrupt me while I speak to my daughter? Come and answer for yourself!” He boomed. The door flew open and a servant fell to his knees.

“Your Majesty! It’s the queen!” He panted, and the king’s face paled considerably.

“SPEAK!” He took two intimidating steps towards the kneeling man, who cowered.

“She labors! The doctor says the babe arrives any moment!”

The king ran from the room, followed closely by Sapphira. Trace and Anaisa shared an uncertain glance before pursuing the royals. She remembered just before she exited to grab a scarf for her hair, and tied it hastily as they wound through the palace and to the king’s chambers.

The commotion was extreme, and Anaisa was alarmed at the fear on people’s faces.

“It is still so early,” One said as she passed. “Will the baby live? Will the queen?”

“The doctor is magical, surely he can save the child and the mother.” Another replied quietly.

“If His Majesty has to choose to save only one, who will it be? The doctor only has so much power…”

The king stormed through the gathering, which fell silent and parted as he made his way through, Sapphira on his heels.

Trace and Anaisa stuck to the princess like glue; with so much chaos, it would be unthinkable for her to be hurt.

“Report!” The king demanded as he entered his chambers. Desperate cries of pain from the queen’s bedroom froze Anaisa’s heart.

“We know nothing,” A servant apologized, “The doctor asked that when you arrive you please wait here for him to send word out. I’m sorry, Your Majesty, that I know nothing more.”

“The Queen lives, at least,” King Harold listened to his wife’s pitiful wails with a stark expression. “I suppose that will have to be enough for me at the moment.”

His jaw worked with tension, and a sharp look banished all unnecessary persons from the room and out into the hallway. Occasionally a nurse scurried out of the bedroom and back into it, carrying towels or water or other small items.

None of them looked happy.

Sapphira sat gingerly on a cushion, anxiety permeating her expression. Anaisa watched the conflict on her face. If the king had a son, it would take the power away from the princess’s husband. The heir presumptive would be the new prince. However, if no healthy child was born, there would be heavy grief in the royal family.

And yet, they would have to put on a happy show. The King and Queen for years had been secretive about how many heirs there were, vowing to introduce them when they reached the age of majority. So, too, the death of this little one would be secret. Everyone in the kingdom would assume another healthy son or daughter had joined the king’s other children.

Private heartache seemed the worst fate in the world.

Anaisa sank down beside Sapphira, and took her hand, squeezing it with encouragement. The princess smiled faintly, but her eyes stayed locked on her stepmother’s door. The king began to pace, much like his daughter had been doing earlier that morning. The similarities between parent and child seemed even more poignant as the group awaited the arrival of another, tiny family member.

It seemed the waiting would go on forever, as the queen’s cries grew fainter and more exhausted. Worry mounted as silence fell.

Until a new cry broke into the world.