“Congratulations Ma’am! It’s a boy!”
Maids were rushing about and the sound of high pitched cries reached throughout the palace. The head maid quickly bundled up blankets around the source of the noise.
The mother slowly watched from afar in her bed. She had no energy to even acknowledge the maid that was beaming happily at her.
'William my love,'
The bright purple in her eyes began to fade.
'I’m sorry.'
As the Lady of the house was not responding, the maids began to panic. Standing over the Lady, the maid brang the bundle closer.
“Lady Amaia? Wouldn’t you like to hold your son?” the maid beckons desperately, holding the baby towards the Lady.
Yet she could not hear them; as her thoughts began to blur, so did her vision.
'Don't be too mad at me.'
She slumps over in the bed, her curly black hair blanketing her face as her final resting place.
“M-Madam?!”
“Oh god she’s not moving...”
“Madam! D-Doctor! We need a doctor immediately!”
The palace was in chaos. The madam had died giving birth.
-
In the bedroom, covered in luxurious drapes and candles, an ethereal man keened in agony. He knelt on the side of the bed, face buried in the sheets. His long-time friend and palace doctor, Thomas, stood at his side.
“I’m sorry William… The birth was too much for her body this time.”
William only responded with a pained sob as he buried his face next to his Amaia. This was not meant to happen. This was not what should’ve happened today.
The doctor could only stand there with regret and grief for his friend's family. There was silence throughout the manor that night.
-
As morning dawned, the sun lit a newly decorated room. Like most rooms in the manor, the windows were high and dressed in the finest drapes. However, unlike other rooms, a most prestigious crib sat in the middle of the chamber.
Two maids occupied the room and leaned over the crib. One was a short blond woman miserably trying to stop crying, while the other had dark plum hair tied into a ponytail. The plum-haired maid stared sadly down at the crib. “She’s gone… I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like without Madam Amaia.”
A small gurgle was heard, and they both looked down into the crib.
There, in the crib, was a newborn baby with raven hair and bright purple eyes, with a mole speckled under his right eye. He opened his eyes as he sensed the presence of the maids.
Confused at the fact he had just woken up, he began to tear up. The maid quickly shushed him and the blond maid picked the baby up and began to cradle him.
The plum-haired maid sighed, gently poking his incredibly soft cheek. “It’s such a shame though,” she says to herself, “She never saw how precious the young master is.”
The blond maid nodded solemnly as they both stared down at the amethyst eyes of their newest young master, Elijah Mason.
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