Eighteen years ago...

The west wing of the castle was in uproar. A woman lay abed, clutching her belly. "Summon the midwives!" she yelled at the guards again.

"We have. They might take time," a guard answered calmly.

"I don't have time!" The pain eased a little and she leaned back on the pillows. Her handmaid Remi dabbed the sweat on her forehead with a soft towel. "Where is my royal husband?"

"The king is in court, Your Grace. A servant has been sent to inform him."

The east wing of the castle was calm in comparison. Word hadn't reached of the queen's labour. A servant ran towards the courtroom and entered through the side door. The king was attending to his subjects; farmers and peasants with land issues, lords and lordlings with their tax collection.

"Your Grace!" a voice said from Revirion's left.

The king turned to see a servant man being held back by his knights. "The king is busy, can't you see?" one said.

"Let him pass, Greene," Revirion said almost lazily. Court affairs could sometimes be as tedious as swordplay. And a great deal more boring. He stifled a yawn.

"Your Grace! The queen!" the servant said in a tone of urgency.

That snapped the King out of his trance. "Karena? What happened to her?"

The servant doubled over, huffing. Clearly, he had run across the castle. "The baby!" he managed to wheeze.

The King rose. "That will be all for today, my lords. Forgive me," he said to the court and hurried out, ignoring some mutters of annoyance.

As he ran through the castle, some people shouted out encouragements. "May the gods bless you with a big strong son, Your Grace!" or "Pray for the queen's health!" or "Prince of Ishtar!"

He burst into Karena's chambers to find his wife clutching her handmaid's arm, almost crushing the poor girl. He knelt beside her bed. "How are you feeling, love?" He took the towel from Remi and wiped the beads of sweat from his wife's forehead.

"I am in labour, Revirion."

"Is that how you talk to your king, Karena?" Lady Selene had entered the chambers.

Karena acknowledged her with a nod. "Mother." Pain flared through her body again, making the Queen scream.

"They aren't here yet, King Revirion?" said Lady Selene. "The midwives?"

"They are coming, my lady," Revirion said. "We are taking good care of your daughter."

"Oh I can see that." Lady Selene had never hidden her disapproval of the royal family; though she took care never to voice it in front of the Queen Mother.

"Forgive us, Your Grace," A woman in long, flowing grey robes strode into the room with an army of similarly dressed women trailing behind her. The Grey Wives. "we had another birthing to attend to."

"What birth is more important than one in the royal household, I ask you?" Selene crossed her arms.

"All births are equally important, my lady. The miracle of life is sent by the gods to every woman," said the chief midwife, the Lady of Life. "Now, I will have to ask you to step outside." She smiled, but there was no warmth in it.

The Lady of Bluehaven didn't budge. "I am the queen's mother, I stay."

"If you ladies are done bickering," the queen spoke up, "I would like to get through this thrice-damned labour. Mother, leave."

"Karena-"

"Out!" It wasn't like Karena to snap at people, but pregnancy had given her a very short temper, especially with her mother.

Lady Selene clenched her jaw and left, her maids scurrying behind her like mice.

As the midwives prepared, Karena leaned in and whispered to Revirion, "I realised I never asked you what you wanted the child to be."

Revirion was looking out the window,  at the sun high up in the sky. "As the king, I have to say a boy. A big, strong boy, fit to rule."

"And as Revirion Morinn?"

He laced his fingers with hers and looked into her eyes. Those pretty, doe-like eyes he had come to love so much. "I want a girl," he whispered. "And I want her to look just like you. Beautiful. Another little lady for me to love."

Karena's eyes filled with tears. She smiled, wiping them away and kissed her husband.

The queen laboured for the rest of the day with the Grey Wives at her side, helping her through it.

And when the time came, the Lady of Life knelt at the foot of the bed and whispered a prayer, "Gods, bless the mother-to-be with strength to bring forth her child. Bless her child with power to conquer life. Bless the winds that bear witness to this miracle and bless the bed that will see so much blood and pain. We, the humble servants of the House of Life, beg your guidance."

Between blood and screams, the queen brought forth her first child. "It's a girl!" the Lady of Life exclaimed. "What will the princess be called?" she asked the king over the sound of the baby's first cry.

Revirion looked at Karena. "What do you say, love?"

"Alysse." Karena knew how much the name meant to Revirion; it was the name of his dear sister, who died saving him.

"Beautiful," Revirion said. "Like you."

"Beautiful indeed," the Lady of Life agreed. "But your troubles are not over yet, Your Grace. The next one will be along in a minute."

The King and Queen stared at her, mouths agape.

"The queen's belly was so big," a Grey Wife spoke up. "We thought you knew."

The royal couple was struggling to form words.

"Ladies, it's time! Start pushing, Your Grace."

And within minutes, Alysse had a twin sister, Bellona.

Karena had a wonderful glow to her face as she cradled Alysse. The girl had barely opened her eyes and yet the new mother had fallen in love with their colour. They were grey-blue, like Revirion's, but there were flecks of amber in them if one looked closely.

Bellona had the same eyes, but the similarity between the twins ended there. Alysse was smaller than her sister; where she had entered the world slowly and with small cries, Bellona had screamed at the top of her lungs and caused her poor mother much more pain. Where Bellona had the light blond hair from her father's side, Alysse bore a brown fuzz on her head like her mother had.

Bellona was curled up in her cradle. Karena lowered Alysse into hers and gently rocked it back and forth, lulling her to sleep.

"When would you let me hold them?" Revirion said from behind her. "They are my children too, you know."

Karena turned to face him. "I don't trust you," she pouted. Revirion might be the lord of the kingdom, but at home, the family lovingly referred to him as the Butterfingered King. "Besides, I made them, they're mine."

"I distinctly remember participating in their making," Revirion responded with a chuckle.

"Fine, but I just put them to sleep." Karena hugged her husband, relaxing in his warm embrace. "Is the feast tomorrow a necessity? We could celebrate the birth without the dance and music too."

Revirion pulled away to look at her. "I like it no more than you do, but tradition is tradition. You know how Mother is."

"I hope the girls can take the noise."

"Of course they can. They're Morinns," Revirion responded.

Karena hugged him again. "I love you, Revirion."

"And I, you."

Karena had a sick feeling in her stomach as Remi helped her dress for the feast. As a child back in Bluehaven, she had witnessed many births, and all the mothers followed the tradition of allowing only the family to see the baby for the first three months. Lady Selene had told her that it warded off the evil eye.

But this was a new family she had married into, with their own traditions, in a different part of the kingdom. And she had her duty as Queen.

I'll take them out only for a minute. The kingdom wanted to see their new princesses. Karena decided that she would bring them back to the chambers as soon as she could.

Remi brushed out the last knots from Karena's hair and started braiding them. "Where are you from, Remi? You have never told me about yourself," the queen asked her.

"My father was an armourer here in Kingsport, Your Grace," the girl said. "I was the eldest of eight. My youngest brother is of seven now."

"How was it in your family?" Karena questioned. "After a birth."

"My mother used to never leave the house for a month at least." She twisted a braid up to pin it. "Neither let anyone apart from family in. She said it wasn't healthy for the child."

Karena fiddled with the hem of her dress. "And did you believe her?"

"I didn't, at first. Then my neighbour once walked past the window and glanced upon my second brother in his cradle. Months later, he died of greyscale."

"Do you think anything would happen to my daughters if I attend this feast with them?" Queen Karena asked nervously.

"No, Your Highness. The princesses' blood protects them." Remi wanted to warn the young Queen, to advise her against going. But how could she? Karena was close to her in age, yet much more innocent and childlike. And scared. The handmaid could feel the Queen's fear. She didn't want to frighten her further with some lowborn superstition. "The hair is done, Your Grace."

"Will you help me with the twins? I can only carry one at a time."

"Me? I'd be honoured, my queen."

Moments later the queen and her handmaid were right outside the doors to the feast hall. A guard went inside to announce their arrival. The crowd quieted down and the doors opened. Karena walked in with her chin high, arms wrapped protectively around Alysse. She adjusted the child's blanket, covering most of her face.

Don't look at them. Keep away.

She looked over her shoulder to see Remi doing the same thing. She climbed the stone steps to the dais where the king was waiting with outstretched arms. He led her to the seat of honour, right beside him. To Revirion's right sat the Queen Mother Gemma Morinn and to Karena's left, Remi. Lady Selene was seated further down the table, evidently unhappy that Karena had favoured a handmaid over her to take care of the twins.

The king stood up to address the crowd. "My subjects, I thank you for attending this celebration," he began. "The gods have blessed me with two children instead of one." He raised his voice higher, a smile on his face. "Without further ado, you may commence the feast in honour of your new princesses, Alysse and Bellona Morinn."

The hall erupted in a cacophony of cheers and the sounds of men banging their fists on the tables soon filled the room. Karena covered her daughters' ears. Bellona burst out crying.

The traditional feast celebrating a royal birth was the only time the castle kitchens and feast halls were open to all, no matter how rich or poor. The nobles and the peasants dined on the same food, hummed along to the same music, laughed at the same jesters.

An old woman in a dark, midnight blue cloak left her place at the peasants' table, and walked down the central aisle, right up to the dais. The soldiers stopped her from going any further. The woman argued with them, demanding to see the king.

The king looked up from his smoked salmon. "What is this?" he asked the soldier standing next to him.

"I don't know, Your Highness. Shall I find out?"

The king nodded as he returned to his plate. The soldier hurried down the steps, had a brief conversation with a guard, and shuffled back to the king's side. "A senile old crone, Your Grace. Nothing to worry about."

Revirion peered over at the fuss the woman was causing. "Let her pass, Greene," he said to his captain of soldiers.

The commotion had attracted attention, and slowly everyone turned their heads to see the old woman kneeling at the dais. The musicians played a soft tune, so that her words could be heard.

The crone lifted the hood of her cloak to reveal a bald, tattooed head. "O glorious King of Ishtar, I beg your audience," she said with a voice surprisingly loud.

The entire feast hall was now watching her with intent. "You have it, so rise. Say what you mean to." Revirion took a swig from his cup.

The woman stood up slowly, head bowed. "Kill your daughters, Your Grace, or hide them away. For a curse sets on the kingdom, and they would be at the center of it."

A chill ran down Karena's spine. "What do you mean?" she asked, frantic. "My king, what is she saying?" She hugged Alysse closer and glanced at Bellona to make sure she was alright.

"What are you? A witch? A sorceress? Or just a liar?" Revirion asked the woman.

The woman tilted her head back and caressed her bald scalp. When she looked forward again, the whites of her eyes had turned the same colour as her cloak. When she spoke, it was with another voice entirely. "I am the one whose dreams show her the future." Her volume rose with every word. "Heed my warning, Revirion Morinn, or Ishtar will burn!" she shouted, with her hands raised, facing the crowd.

"We don't believe in your baseless magic, crone. You are a liar. The gods protect us all against your vile lies," Lady Selene said.

"She's a liar!" a peasant screamed, standing up on his table.

"No hell torturous enough for you, crone!" shouted another.

"Seize her!"

A smile tugged at the woman's chapped lips. "You will all understand someday, and you will thank me. The kingdom will see a war like no other." She pulled her hood back up, as the soldiers came to take her prisoner. "Do you hear me, Morinn? There will be war!" she screamed as the guards dragged her away, the heavy doors of the hall slamming shut.

The hall erupted into applause, cheering for the King. "Nobody takes our princesses!" they chanted.

Revirion leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. There was a smile of relief on Karena's face, but on the inside she was terrified. She looked at her beautiful daughters.

I will let no harm come to you, my loves, she promised them.