DEMON CRY

42.

The First Warrior had given birth to a healthy baby boy and all the Royals had assembled to give their blessings to the newborn. The monarchs tried to look happy at the birth of the Royal Advisor's grandson but it was quite apparent that the joy was like salt on their wounds.

They had practised curves on their lips but Amara had lived with them long enough to know the pain that they tried so hard to hide.

After giving their blessings, all of them but the Queen, dispersed. Amara stayed beside her for moral support. The old woman looked like a shadow. She feared that the Queen would shatter. 

The assembly for the Chosen Heir had been postponed to the following day and the young woman seized the opportunity to seek her mother's guidance. 

Felicia was inside her room, holding her newborn in her arms. The three midwives halted their work when they saw the Queen enter the room. 

The Frisier looked up and smiled at the women before ordering the midwives to disperse. After they had left, she held her newborn out to the Queen, 'Do you want to hold him?'

Amara knew her presence was not needed when she saw the Queen take him in her arms, smiling through her tears. The younger woman silently left after giving Felicia a small departing smile. 

'He's lovely, Felicia,' the Queen broke the silence.

The First Warrior, despite being the tough woman she was, burst into tears. 'Thank you, my Queen.'

The older woman placed the baby in the cradle and moved to sit next to her niece. She pulled her into a hug, gingerly patting her back, 'It's alright, love. It's alright.'

'I am sorry about Damien. I can't imagine what-' Felicia sobbed, unable to express her heavy emotions.

The Queen's eyes watered as her mind travelled back in time. When Prince Damien was born, he had been so small and fragile that she had tended to him for months before she let him out of her sight.

'You know him, Felicia,' her voice wavered, 'Where ever he is, he will be alright.'

The younger woman cried, 'I didn't do anything to help you. I am sorry, my Queen.'

'Hush, now, Felicia. There's no need to be sorry. I would never want you to risk your child. You are dear to me,' Queen Revenna brushed the younger woman's hair with her hand. 

They stayed like that for a while.

'What have you named him?'

'We haven't named him yet.'

'And why is that?'

'I want Damien here when I name him.'

The Queen paused and glanced at the little boy. 'Name him, Felicia. It will be cruel to deprive a high born like him of his name.'

The First Warrior turned away and gazed outside the window. She couldn't get herself to reply. Instead, her mind was filled with tearfully pleasant memories she shared with the Crown Prince. 'We used to play together,' she started, 'Damon, Damien and I.'

The Queen hummed in response, a small smile on her face.

'Damon usually watched over us keeping us from wreaking havoc,' the young woman chuckled at the memory. 'Those were nice times.'

'They indeed were, Felicia.'

She turned to her aunt and smiled, 'I'll name him but we will not announce his birth till Damien comes back.'

The Queen opened her mouth to protest but the younger woman shook her head, 'No more celebrations without him, please.'

Queen Ravenna nodded, gratefully, accepting the First Warrior's request.