There was an odd, squishy sound.“There we go,” Plumestra seemed very satisfied.Mira watched, fascinated, as a bloody mass gushed into her hands.“It appears whole and unbroken,” Plumestra added as she briefly inspected the mess before wrapping it in a cloth.“This can be burned.”
Satia frowned, looking at her stomach.“It’s not flat,” she whined.
“Perfectly normal,” Plumestra was cleaning her hands with a wet cloth.“You just had a baby, and that changes your body.”
Satia scowled.
“If you want a flat stomach after a birth, then keep walking as you have been doing,” Plumestra said conversationally.“And no sweets.”
The sount of trumpets and increasing noise from outside the doors warned them of the King’s approach.
“Oh, can’t that man wait,” Satia grumbled as she struggled to sit up.“Make me perfect.”
Mira moved fast, wiping her own hands clean before spreading a bright white sheet over the nasty bits.Avice arranged Satia’s hair and plumped up her supporting pillows, fashioning the perfect picture of exhausted motherhood.
Plumestra moved back by the hearth, getting out of the way.
The trumpets sounded again and King Xyrath burst in through the door, the babe in his arms swaddled in white silk, a wisp of black hair visible on his tiny head.“Beloved,” Xyrath cried out, a huge smile on his face as varies nobles and councilmen piled in behind him, though Caris and Nora stayed the closest.
“My King,” Satia smiled, looking elegantly wan and tired.
“A son,” Xyrath said, sitting at the foot of Satia’s bed.“A son, beloved.An heir to the throne and all that I could hope for.”With quick fingers, he unwraped the silk swaddle, laying the babe bare.“Ten toes, ten fingers.Perfect in every way,” Xyrath exclaimed his delight with a huge smile.“And the birthmark.Perfect.”
“Birthmark?”Saita asked.
Mira shared a look of confusion with the other Bondmaidens.
Xyrath ignored his wife, lost in admiration of his son.He gathered up the naked child in the blanket and turned toward the balcony doors.“All shall witness this presentation.”
Nora and Caris swiftly opened the doors for him.
Xyrath stepped out, golden in the sun.“Behold,” he boomed to the crowd in the courtyard, lifting the naked babe toward the sun.“My son and heir.”Xyrath’s voice rang out, strong and proud, carrying over all who stood in rapt attention.“Xykeir, Son of Xy, and bearing the mark of the Chosen!”
Cheers rose, and the Temple bells started to ring.
Satia, smug and satisfied, relaxed into the pillows.
The noise drewRiven’s attention while he was deboning a pig carcass.It sounded like every bell in Edenrich was pealing.
“Back to work and mind your blades,” Kenda barked.“Word will come soon enough.”
Sure enough, the kitchen door burst open before he’d drawn more than a few additional breaths and one of the cheese-maids burst through.“The courtyard, all to the courtyard, the Queen has given birth!”
Kenda cursed, but nodded, and started everyone running to the courtyard.Riven found himself swept up in a crowd of servants and nobles alike, all standing shoulder to shoulder, looking up to the Royal chambers.
King Xyrath stepped out onto the balcony, holding a small bundle in his hands and raising it high.“Behold my son and heir,” Xyrath’s voice rang out, strong and proud, carrying over all who stood in rapt attention.“Xykeir, Son of Xy, and bearing the mark of the Chosen!”
Everyone burst into cheers; they were laughing and clapping each other on the back.
Riven plastered a smile on his face, cheered with the rest.But deep within, he shivered.
Time was no longer on his side.
Chapter Thirty-One
The Wastes
“Chosen?”The Liam stared at the flames where the image of Guyik flickered and danced.
