The dungeon cell we were locked up in was situated far deeper underground than the cell I was previously locked in, and I could no ray of sunlight at all, the only noise we heard was the sound of water dripping from above.

         "Oh Anne, do sit down," my mother-in-law fussed as she beckoned me to sit on the straw mat next to her. It was horribly cold in the dungeons, and there were no sources of heat around.

         "I'm too afraid to sit down," I say to her. "I fear that if I fall asleep, I will never wake up again."

I glance at her, not daring to say more than that. This is all my fault. We would not be here if it were not for me. It was my stupidity, my impulsiveness that got us here, and I was afraid that she would start blaming me for putting us in this predicament eventhough I was well aware that I was the cause of all this.

          "Don't say that, Anne," she says comfortingly as she pulled me closer to her, enveloping me with warmth. "Have you forgotten that I am a shaman ?"

Her eyes twinkled brilliantly as she said so, and once we were certain that there were no soldiers outside, she covered her mouth with her hands and began to chant in a language I had never heard of before.

Then, she pulled her hands away, and sitting in her palm was a small flame, burning weakly in the damp air.

        "Step aside," my mother-in-law said as she knelt on the floor, and gently she allowed the flame to slide off of her hands and onto the floor. She quickly drew a circle on the floor, and as the fire grew, it was confined inside the circle, not spreading even an inch outside it.

          "Oh, it is so warm, Mama," I say, breathing in relief as I sat next to the fire. "Are you able to conjure food too, Mama ?"

My mother-in-law laughed, but then she shook her head. "I'm afraid no, Anne. This is as far as my abilities go."

My smile faded, and all I could do was to stare at the fire as it roared and hissed. It required no wood or oil, and it continued to burn despite the damp air. It was marvellous indeed, but now I only felt dread.

          "Isn't the fire very enchanting, Anne ?" my mother-in-law said. "Do you know about the tale of the great Queen Moirai of Therondia ?"

I nodded eagerly, not wanting to lament on my misery and woes. "The one who wielded fire ?"

           "They say that before she became queen, she was a performer. The fire that she blows out of her mouth is said to be so beautiful and mesmerising that you'd feel as if you were drunk."

As I stared at the red and yellow flames dancing around, I envisioned the legendary queen, her golden eyes bright and fiery as she walked through the flames. The great Queen Moirai was an exceptional warrior who fought by her husband's side, securing his victory, while I was locked in the dungeons, passive and useless. If I were to ever become queen, how could I live up to such a person ?

For the first five days, we were mostly calm and relaxed, but after a week had passed, I began to panic. Surely, my father would have been alerted by Cecily and sent over soldiers to secure my release, but nothing happened. No one came. A hooded soldier would come everyday to give us rations, and that was it.

The dungeons grew remarkably colder as the days passed, and I was certain that it was now winter. We had only eaten cold wheat bread for the last week, and I felt so tired and drained of all energy, and was reduced to a silent pile sitting inanimately in the corner of the dungeon cell.

             "Edmund will come, Anne," my mother-in-law would constantly say. "I know that he will."

At first I believed her, but as the second week passed, I stopped listening to her entirely. I was so exhausted that I could barely open my eyes and swallow food.

             "Anne, you must stand up and walk. Sitting down all the time isn't good for you," Mama spoke as she pulled me up to my feet, and I did not say a single word of protest.

              "Is everyone dead out there ?" I say as my mother-in-law walked me around the room. "Or have they forgotten about us ?"

               "He will come, Anne. You must have faith in him. I'm certain that he is travelling here as we speak-"

               "It takes only three days to get here from Lockebel, and two days from Rhyland. It's been two weeks, Mama! They aren't coming!"

               "I know the kind of person my son is. He will not willingly leave us to rot in this prison like this. There must be something happening out there, preventing him from getting here."
 
             "Maybe he is tending to Lacey Rivers. He must be smiling from ear to ear, to be anticipating two children at once," I say bitterly.

My mother-in-law was initially shocked, but then she frowned with concern. "You are not well, Anne," she says, feeling with forehead and neck gently.

                "You're burning hot !" she cried as she hurriedly laid me down on the straw mat. Indeed, I had been feeling feverish for the past few days, but today I felt far worse. But that was not my biggest concern. I was due to give birth anytime now, and I feared for the fate of my child, to be born here in this dungeon.

I shook my head and brushed her hand away, hopelessly attempting to stand up. "It's been too long. I must try to seek audience with the King. We are kept here against our wills, and we barely know what is happening outside!"

           "We're prisoners, Anne! Your pride has put us in this situation, and don't let it cause us to lose our heads next!" my mother-in-law reprimanded, and I immediately became silent.

She never raised her voice at me before, but when stuck in such predicaments, even the calmest person would lose their composure.

             "We must try, at the very least," I eventually said, my voice as tiny as a squeaking mouse. "When the guard comes, I'll try to bribe him into releasing us."

I quickly reached for the small satchel that I had hidden inside my skirt, revealing the shiny gold ingots inside.
        "See ? This will guarantee our freedom," I convinced her.

With difficulty, I stood up and walked towards the metal bars and gripped onto them tightly, quietly waiting for the guard to come by.

            "Are you certain that it will work, Anne ?" I heard my mother-in-law say, and I released the bars to turn around and reply to her, but before I could say a thing, I heard the loud sound of cannons being fired at the walls above us, causing the floor to shake and tremble.

In the turmoil, I lost my footing and tumbled down on the floor. The sound of the cannons continued on, striking fear into my heart. My stomach twisted with pain, which at first I thought was caused by shock.

            "Anne !" my mother-in-law shrieked, quickly grabbing onto me, her eyes trained on my lower half, and slowly my eyes followed hers.

Blood. I saw blood. Just like when I miscarried previously, but this time, even more. It soaked through my thick skirt, and I was silent and senseless. Is this it ? Will my child truly be born in this prison, where it is uncertain whether he would live or die ?

Then I felt it. A rapid gush of water, followed by a stabbing pain. "Mama, it hurts," I tell her, clenching my teeth tightly while attempting to remain calm.

I was led back to the thin straw mat on the damp floor, my eyes gazing up at the mossy stone ceiling. Had I been home at Winterbourne Castle, I would be warm in bed right now, with midwives by my side, blessed idols and talismans placed around me to aid me throughout this ordeal. But I had none of that.

           "I want my sister," I find myself saying. Lisbeth's cold, stiff marble-like features were forever engraved in my memory, and now I wanted her to be with me more than ever. Lisbeth would help me. She would comfort me.

"I want my sister here!"

My mother-in-law's frown deepened, and sweat trickled down her forehead despite it being deathly cold. "Anne, you must remain calm. I am here, I will help you," she says.

          "No, you don't understand! I only want my sister! I need Lisbeth to be here!" I cried hysterically. I was shaking with fear at that moment, and so many thoughts flooded my mind. I think of the heavily pregnant Leanne that I pushed down the stairs, leading both to her and her child's death.

I think of Queen Helene who took her own life, and her poor son who I accidentally poisoned to death. I think of my sister, whose stomach had to be cut open to release her son, and she passed away almost immediately, not living long enough to even hear her son's first cry.

And then, it began. The stabbing pain came, but then it ceased. It was as if something was clawing from inside me, begging to be released. I screamed, tossing and turning, and in my mind I imagined a little demon with sharp talons and long fangs scratching and biting inside me.

I envisioned it chewing on my flesh, licking its lips greedily as my blood filled its mouth. "Take it out of me, Mama," I pleaded with her, full of exasperation and fatigue. "Please, take it out..."

Never in my life had I felt so tired, so full of pain. Slowly, I shut my eyes, allowing exhaustion to take over me completely.

♤

Amaranthis watched in horror as her daughter-in-law's body became limp and lifeless, her eyes rolled back with only the whites showing. With trembling hands, she lifted and cradled Anne's head, slowly sighing in relief when she realised that Anne was still breathing.

Gently, Amaranthis laid Anne back on the straw mat and went back to her previous position. Twenty years ago, she had been a healer in her small village in the mountains, and she had delivered multiple babies before, although not all managed to survive.

Anne's child was in the breech position, and she knew that she would have to pull the child out, an almost definitely painful process. Amaranthis pulled her sleeves up, not at all fazed by the pungent smell of blood that she had grown used to. At first she hesitated, but the former healer knew that if she waited any longer, both Anne and her unborn grandchild would die.

She first found the leg, which squirmed under her touch. Then she searched for the hands, and then the head.

        Amaranthis breathed sharply as she turned the child around, and eventhough she was successful, she was unnerved by Anne's silence. Any expecting mother would be screaming her head off, but Anne was as still as a corpse, and the only indication that she was not dead was her chest that rose and fell, albeit very weakly.

With trembling hands, she pulled the child out, and immediately it began to cry when exposed to the cold winter air. Amaranthis quickly swaddled the poor child with silks cut off from her own skirt, and she eventually noticed that it was a girl.
 
          "Oh, Anne," she called out softly. "It's a girl. A beautiful girl too, Anne. Look, such soft black hair and ruddy cheeks..."

But Anne was still and unmoving, and the sound of the cannons drew even closer. Amaranthis could hear the sound of swords clashing and soldiers screaming outside, and her heart sank. Her granddaughter's bright green eyes were gazing at her warmly like a doe, unaware of the horrible situation they were entrenched in.

           "You poor child," Amaranthis murmured as the soldiers neared, and she could barely hear her own voice over the sound of the cannons. "Poor, poor child."

The little girl smiled, her small lips curved sweetly, and that brought tears to Amaranthis's eyes. She did not know what was happening outside, but she was certain that they would all definitely die that day.

As Edmund's only child, there is no reason why the King would want spare her. She was a threat to him, the heiress of her father's cause. As Amaranthis stared into those green eyes, the same shade as hers, her heart was suddenly filled with unbearable sadness.

            "Forgive me, forgive me," she sobbed as she held the little bundle close to her chest, wanting to scream out so that she would not have to listen to the sound of the soldiers marching.
But then, it abruptly stopped.

              "Mama !"

Amaranthis's body jolted with shock, and she shakily turned around to see her son, standing on the other side of the metal bars, his silver armor splattered with blood and dirt, and longsword he carried with him was stained with blood.

      Edmund broke the lock with ease and stepped inside the cell, beaming at the sight of his mother, but then his expression morphed into that of pure horror when he saw Anne, pale and stiff on the floor.

              "Anne !" he cried, collapsing on the floor next to her, mortified by the sight of blood pooling around Anne's legs. "What happened to her, Mama ? Why is she like this ?"

               "We must get a physician for her, quick! She lost too much blood, Ned, I am afraid she might not make it."
Edmund simultaneously glared at his mother, and Amaranthis knew that she had misspoken.
         Edmund hurriedly lifted Anne up and rushed past his mother. In the heat of the moment, Amaranthis did not notice that hanging by Edmund's waist, right next to his longsword, was the golden crown of Phoenicia.

Hi! If you liked this story, try checking out my other story, which is set in the early 1700s, Catarina and The Prince ! And please vote and comment, it means a lot to me 🥰