Queen Gwynnyth didn’t appreciate being shaken awake in the dead of night by her enthusiastic husband. “If this is about the moon,” she mumbled, “I assure you I already know what it looks like.”

Anders, out of breath, continued to rouse her. “Darling, you’ll never believe what I’ve done.”  

One eye glared at him from beneath the blanket. She hated pet names, and he knew it. “Impress me within ten seconds, or you will sleep outside.”

“I’ve solved our problems. You’re no longer barren.”

She propped one elbow on her pillow. “Why do you sound like you just ran a long distance?”

He told her about stealing away to the woods to pray, and that a winged woman descended from the sky. “She was a fairy, eleven feet tall and angelic in nature.” He knew Gwynnyth was skeptic of fairies. She tended to categorize Fae as either angels or demons. “This heavenly woman lifted the curse preventing us from having children.” He left out the ominous condition of her generosity. “I’m certain her blessing worked.”

Gwynnyth scrunched her brow. “I’ve changed my diet, slept on a strict schedule, tried foreign salves, prayed for hours on end, and received visits from every doctor in the kingdom. What makes you think some apparition’s word will change anything?”

“Let’s try this once more. We have nothing to lose.”

She still didn’t believe him, but his excitement was contagious, and she wasn’t going to turn down a night of play. She lit candles, and he unbraided her long hair. They tumbled into a familiar game.

In the morning, Gwynnyth didn’t feel any different than usual. For weeks, she dismissed Anders’ hopeful wishes. But then her cycle didn’t come as planned. The royal midwife examined her and confirmed it: the Queen was finally pregnant.

Gwynnyth screamed with joy.