Book Two of The Usurper's Queen Series
The kingdom is slowly dividing itself into different factions. The people's true faces are being exposed in the race of wealth and glory.
And in the heart of it all is Anne, Duchess of Cindertrappe. The promise...
It has been two days since Melissa went into labour. While I had hoped that the mother and child pair would perish, it seemed as if they refused to die.
I could hear her screams echoing down the hallway, bloodcurdling and raw. As if her body was being torn apart by a pack of rabid wolves.
As I waited outside the birthing chamber, I was reminded of the time when Queen Jane gave birth to Prince Gregory.
Just like now, I quietly awaited behind closed doors, eagerly anticipating for the worst. Wanting to hear her screams being cut off, wanting to hear the distressful moans of the midwives as they delivered the pale blue baby. But none of that happened.
Melissa screeched one final time, and I could hear the piercing cry of an infant.
It was the very last thing that I wanted to hear. Is it a boy or a girl? Has the destroyer of my family's legacy been born? Would he one day take away everything from my daughters?
I decided to go in. Inside, I could see Melissa Hasteburn lying weakly on the bed, her eyes flickering towards the small bundle in the midwife's arms.
"Is it a boy or a girl ?" I ask calmly, and upon hearing my voice, the midwife hastily lowered her head in greeting.
"It is a boy, Your Majesty," she told me, holding out the bundle for me to take, ignoring the reaching hands of the boy's mother.
"Don't you dare touch my son!" she screeched, but no one paid attention to her. I gently took the boy into my arms while his mother watched, her lips trembling with rage.
I pulled away the cloth that obscured the boy's face, and I could see the soft, curly tufts of red hair, the exact shade as my mother in law's. His face resembled that of his half-siblings, and I saw none of Melissa Hasteburn in him.
He was a lovely child, and I could not bear to hurt him. Despite my burning hatred for the boy's mother and her family, I had decided to let him live.
After all, as the King's legitimate wife, I am legally his mother, and what a horrible mother I would be if I let my own son suffer.
"From this day on, I will take care of him, and I shall raise him under my wing. Just like the King had agreed," I declared.
Melissa stared at me in shock and horror. She immediately changed her violent approach to a more sympathetic one.
"Your Majesty, at the very least, please let me name him myself. Let him be named Edgar, Your Majesty. It is all I wish for," she pleaded.
I wanted to laugh upon hearing her words. Just like Lacey Rivers, Melissa too was obsessed with naming her son after the King's father. It was as if their bastards would suddenly become legitimate if they were given a royal name.
"No," I retort sharply. "He shall be named Caius. Caius de Chauvelot."
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