Content Warning:

Pregnancy complications. 

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The whole palace buzzed with preparations for the upcoming royal arrival. Anders hadn’t tinkered with paints since his days as a traveler, but he decided to create a mural in honor of his wife and son. Rich blues and pinks brightened the wall as he fashioned a Madonna and Child in their image. He hummed off-key hymns while he worked. 

He was so full of joy that Gwynnyth made extra sure to hide her complications from him.

The midwife assured her that frequent nausea and fatigue were normal for pregnancy. However, the pitch-dark color of Gwynnyth’s bodily expulsions was not. “I have never seen this,” the midwife admitted. “I have no explanation.”

“Then no one can know, especially not Anders.” Gwynnyth couldn’t disappoint in the one area she felt she had failed her husband throughout their whole marriage. 

So the Queen continued to vomit black bile in private, and the faithful midwife continued to keep the secret from everyone, including the King.

As Gwynnyth grew more withdrawn, Anders’ cheerful optimism began to crack. He confronted the midwife. “You’re positive everything is fine?” 

“Of course, your highness. Morning sickness is natural for an expecting mother.” The midwife never made direct eye contact with him, so Anders could not Storytell any secrets out of her. He had no choice but to take her word.

Gwynnyth fought to retain her excitement about becoming a mother, but as her baby kicked harder and her symptoms worsened, she wondered about the supposed “angel” who lifted her curse. 

Once, long ago, she herself had met a devil. He appeared at the riverbank and offered her a wish. She only evaded him by walking away, and she never told anyone, not even Anders. Gwynnyth prayed her husband hadn’t fallen for a similar devious plot.