Page 57 of Bewitched

“I’m M-Medea.”

“Hello, Medea. I am Henriette. Do you have someone to help you care for the child? Or did you want me to summon the nursemaid?”

“Nursemaid?” She looked at the woman and her mind went blank.

“To feed her. Or are you planning on doing that yourself?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I am.” Now, she really felt frightened. She looked down to her breasts. Her mother never nursed her as far as she knew. Medea wasn’t even sure she knew how.

“I’ll let you two rest now. The King wants to see you, but I will tell him it’s too soon since you just gave birth.”

Before Medea could even respond, the door burst open and King Osric strutted in, accompanied by two of his guards.

“Sire, it’s not a good time,” protested the midwife. “Medea has just given birth and she needs to rest.”

“Hush, Henriette,” snapped the man. “What was your name again, witch?”

“It’s Medea, sire,” Henriette responded for her, and Medea was glad.

“I asked the witch, not you!”

“It is Medea, just as she said.” Medea only answered so he wouldn’t punish the nice midwife. She wanted to blast him with her magic right now in response to his ruthlessness, but unfortunately, she was so tired from birthing the baby and shapeshifting, that she was too weak to even use her powers.

“What’s that?” He looked down at her baby.

“This is my daughter,” said Medea. Just saying it out loud felt odd.

“I know it’s a baby, you bitch!” he spat. “But it is human or magical?”

“I- I’m not sure,” she answered softly, really not knowing the answer to the King’s question.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s a girl, is it not?”

“Yes,” she said, only because the King was looking right at it.

“Then it is of no use to me. Guards, kill them both.” Osric turned on his heel to leave. The guards reached out for Medea and the baby, frightening her enough to give her the strength she needed.

“Nay! Don’t touch me or my child.” Medea pulled the baby closer, holding it up against her chest, feeling the warmth of their bodies touching. It felt good. Her daughter was a tiny little thing, but with a head of thick, oaken hair, just like her father. The baby cried and looked up to her with innocent, big, green eyes, seeming very scared. Medea had to protect her child. She was the only one now who could save the little girl’s life. A feeling of love engulfed her as the baby cuddled up to her, trusting her completely. Medea knew now that she would give her own life to save this child, if need be, and never regret it.

Then she looked up at the guards with their weapons in hand. Her eyes trailed over to stare into the eyes of the terrible king who ruled Kasculbough next. That immense feeling of love within her disappeared quickly and darkness took its place. How could anyone order a little baby to be killed? He was truly a wretched man. Without even using her hands this time, she was able to shoot the dark energy from her eyes, knocking the King’s men to the ground.

King Osric spun around seeing his guards on the floor. Then he turned back to her, drawing his sword.

“I would put that blade away if I were you, or you’ll be next,” she warned him.

“Are they... are they dead?” he asked, looking down at his men. Smoke rose up off their bodies.

“I don’t know and neither do I care,” she retorted. “Now, get out of here. I am tired. My baby and I need to rest.”

“You’re evil,” he spat. “You are a witch filled with dark magic.”

“So, what if I am?”

“Magic is prohibited on Mura,” he told her, as if that meant anything at all to her.

“Really.” She rocked the baby in her arms, and to her surprise it actually stopped crying. “Too bad, since none of that will matter once you’re dead and I’m the one sitting on your throne.”

The King lunged at her with his sword pointing the way. This time, she made an invisible barrier around the bed, protecting both her and the baby. King Osric smashed into it, dropping his sword and falling to his knees.