It is now springtime in Phoenicia. The sun is up high in the sky, shining as bright as the legendary phoenix herself.

All around the palace compound, periwinkles of all shades and colours had begun to bloom, a sign that great fortune was awaiting the House of Winterbourne.

         "It is truly a sight to behold, Your Majesty," Argenta remarked as strolled along with me. "The palace looks so lively and cheerful now, all thanks to you."

I smile. It was never about making the palace looks a bit less dreary, it was all about asserting my family's dominance here, in the heart of the kingdom.

I yearned to kneel down and stroke the petals of the periwinkles, to feel the silky softness against my own skin, but I had learnt to keep my hands hidden underneath my leather gloves, at least until a cure was found.

    A few weeks have passed since the incident with Rosamund, but the blood has yet to vanish from my hands.

Rosamund's blood did not come out no matter what I did, and my hands are now permanently marked red.

          "Your Majesty," I hear a light, airy voice say from behind me, and I turned around only to see the short and stocky Melissa Hasteburn standing there alongside the now-disfigured Rosamund Walrich.

Melissa's face was irritatingly smug, and she pointed a finger at the periwinkles on the ground, and said, "Why would you plant a common weed all around the palace? Once they have begun to multiply, there is no way to get rid of them for good."

Her words were spoken incredibly snootily, but I did notice that they were uttered in a rather monotonous way, as if they were rehearsed.

Of course, that was barely a surprise.

Melissa Hasteburn is only capable of writing her own name and making flower arrangements. Anything other than that is out of the question.

Those words most likely came out from the mouths of her father, the Marquis, or her uncle, the Grand Priest.

And they were undoubtedly intended for my brother and his wife, who had just delivered a pair of twin boys just a fortnight ago.

         "Just give me the order, and I will put her in her place right at this very moment," Argenta hissed into my ear, but I shook my head, putting on a calm, benevolent persona.

        "There is no need for you to waste your time. She does not deserve anyone's attention," I say with a grin, my condescending words hastily chipping away the little dignity that Melissa had left.

        "Come, sweet Argenta. Let us go and see my royal nephews."

        "Sister!" Gilbert's voice echoed throughout the hall. I smile in glee.

It has been months since I last saw my brother, and now he has returned with my nephews in tow.

Two wet nurses rushed forward, each carrying a little boy swaddled in silks and satins.

        "Annie, this is little Maximillian," my brother says as he picked up the bundle from the nurse's arms and brought him closer to me. "Look at his eyes, such a vivid purple."

I peered closer, and indeed, the little boy had a pair of frighteningly bright violet orbs, ones that resembled mine and my brother's.
       "Maximillian Winterbourne," I remark fondly. "The future Duke of Sutherland."

        "No, Annie. He is the younger twin, so he will be made the Earl of Rhyland in the future. My eldest son, George, will be made duke instead," Gilbert clarified, and I was about to nod when that particular name suddenly caught my attention.

        "George ?" I repeated, unable to mask my shock. Why? Of all the names that exist, why must it be George?

        "Why not ?" I hear the familiar sour voice of Melissa Hasteburn, her tone filled with curiosity. "It is a good, perfectly noble name. There were many princes named George in the past."

I ignore her, and I turn to look at my brother. "Exactly, Gilbert. After what had happened to the late Prince George, surely you realise that it isn't a very good name to give to your child? It might bring bad luck to him in the future."

        "I was the one who chose that name, Your Majesty," Cecily's voice rang, and I simultaneously went silent.

       "And why is that ?" I breathed out, trying as best as I could to compose myself.

Cecily smiled softly, and she spoke, "That name is very significant to me. It is the name of my deceased brother, George.
He never had the chance to grow up, and even when he was alive, I never got to know him. I thought if I named my son after my brother, then his soul would live on forever."

I glanced at the small bundle in the wet nurse's arms. George Winterbourne bore little resemblance to the dead Prince George de Chauvelot, thank God, and my heart slowly calmed down.

         "Come, let me see him," I say with a smile. George Winterbourne had curly tufts of silky brown hair, wheat hued skin with ruddy cheeks and pale blue eyes, while his younger brother was frail and slight with blond hair that was so pale that it appeared white.

At first glance, Maximillian seemed like a weak babe who would not survive the coming winter, but I knew that he would never die so easily. He is a Winterbourne after all.

        "Our family is secure at last," I whispered to Gilbert. "Now that you have two healthy young heirs, there is nothing more for you to worry about. If each of the boys establishes their own branch of the family, then our influence will become insurmountable."

My brother gave me a weak smile.
   
        "That is true, Annie. House Winterbourne is safe and secure now, but the royal family is not."

         "Home !" Argenta squealed as she peered through the carriage window.

        "Ah, the air is so warm and gentle here, isn't it, Your Majesty ?"

I have not returned to Rhyland for almost a year now, ever since I ascended the throne.

Not much has changed, and even though the previous king is currently rotting away in a faraway exile, the citizens of Rhyland do not have much to say.
       Instead, they rejoice in the fact that I, the daughter of their beloved Earl of Rhyland, is now the Queen of Phoenicia.

Autumn is steadily approaching and the leaves have begun to turn gold and red. It would not be long until I would give birth to my second child.

    Gilbert's words became a stark reminder, and for weeks, it was all I could think about.

Today, I return to my hometown to make an offering at the Aglarose Cordesane, praying that my wish would be granted.

It was almost dusk when we arrived at the cordesane. The giant red sun was at the verge of setting, slowly vanishing behind the large white marble building that was the Aglarose Cordesane.

        The long, twisting corridors were much darker and colder now, and one could only imagine how menacing they would be at night time.

Thankfully, I had Argenta and Lillianna by my side.

The cordesane hall was situated in the heart of the building, the very hall where Edmund and I were lawfully wedded almost two years ago. And today, I will pray for an heir to save our union.

    My ladies-in-waiting each carried baskets filled to the brim with fruits, wheat and barley, all to be presented as an offering.

        "Do you think this will be enough to appease the gods, Lillianna ?" I whisper to her as we walk over to the altar.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I do not know much about the southern faith," she murmured, peering into the basket of nectarines and pomegranates. "But I hope that it will be enough."

Once we were in front of the altar, Lillianna and Argenta began to unpack the baskets and placed the offerings on top of the golden trays near the altar.

The marble floors were unbearably cold, but I forced myself to kneel down, my head bowed obediently.

        "O God," I whispered. "It is I, your daughter, Anne. Now, I am the queen of this kingdom, but I have yet to bear a son for the king. I fear that he will put me aside one day, and if that happens, it will be the end of my house.

I truly love my daughter Elisabeth, and I would put her on the throne if I could, but the council would not agree. They say that a woman in power is unnatural, unheard of.."

I slowly lift my head, and I glanced at the stained glass window at the centre of the hall, the one that bore House Winterbourne's crest. It was dull and unlit, but I could still see the outline of the five-petaled periwinkle.

         "I just need a son," I sobbed. "Just one son and they will leave me alone. Just one son, and House Winterbourne will be safe. Oh God, I beg you.."