Chapter CXI: Another
The halls of the Stone Keep echoed with Isabella’s desperate screams as she went into labor. Her cries of pain reverberated off the cold stone walls, filling the castle with a tension that gripped every listener. Isabella, drenched in sweat and tears, crawled around the room, her fingers clawing at the sheets as she prayed to every god she knew, begging them to deliver her baby safely.
Hours passed in agonizing contractions, each wave of pain bringing her closer to the brink of exhaustion. Finally, with a final, desperate push, Isabella felt the release of her child from her body. The midwife swiftly caught the baby, who let out a sharp, healthy cry almost immediately.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty, it’s a boy,” the midwife said, her voice gentle as she handed the newborn to Isabella.
Isabella’s breath caught in her throat as she looked down at her son, tears of relief and joy welling in her eyes. He was so much smaller than Ikkar had been when he was born. Worry crept into her heart, and she asked the midwife, “Is he supposed to be this small?”
The midwife smiled reassuringly. “He might have decided to come out a little earlier than expected. We didn’t know exactly when your pregnancy began, but he seems healthy.”
Isabella’s smile returned as she gazed at her tiny, perfect baby, so sweet and small in her arms. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, overwhelmed with love. But before she could fully savor the moment, a sudden, crashing pain shot through her spine, and the contractions started all over again. Panic surged within her as she handed the baby back to the midwife.
“What’s happening?” Isabella gasped, her body trembling with fear and exhaustion.
The other midwife quickly checked her and exclaimed, “There’s another baby, Your Majesty!”
Isabella’s mind raced as she tried to process the information, but the overwhelming pain forced her to focus on the task at hand. She braced herself and began to push again, her body fighting to bring this second life into the world.
It didn’t take long before the room was filled with the cries of another newborn. The second midwife carefully cut the cord and, with a beaming smile, said, “Congratulations, my queen, this one’s a girl.”
Isabella’s breath caught as both babies were placed in her arms. She looked down at them in awe, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. Two babies. Twins. And one of them was a girl, a princess, just as she had always dreamed of. Tears streamed down her face as she thanked every god she had prayed to during her labor, her heart so full of love it felt like it might burst.
She held them close to her chest, feeling their tiny, fragile bodies against her skin, and whispered a prayer of gratitude. But as the initial euphoria began to fade, reality crept back into her thoughts. The king wasn’t there to see his children, to witness this miracle. It had been five months since she had left the palace. Dara would likely be giving birth in a few months, and the thought of the king visiting her in her childbed, holding and cherishing their child, filled Isabella with a sudden, fierce anger.
But that anger was quickly tempered by a bitter satisfaction. He had made his choice when he chose Dara. The king had chosen to betray her, and in doing so, he had deprived himself of the chance to hold these two precious lives, to see the beauty of their children. Isabella’s guilt over leaving him, over taking Ikkar and now the twins away from him, faded.
Less than a month after giving birth, Isabella pressed forward with her plans to retake Rosehall. Leaving her children— Ikkar, Zayr, and Rya— behind at the Stone Keep was an excruciating decision, one that tore at her heart. She kissed each of them goodbye, lingering on their small, warm faces, and reassured herself that Alicent would care for them as she always had. This separation would be temporary, she promised herself, and soon they would be reunited at her ancestral home, the grand Palace of Rosehall.
Isabella set out with a small entourage that included Lord Pallor and Lady Clara. As they approached the gates of Rosehall, the fortress loomed before them, a monument to the past she was determined to reclaim. The journey was tense, the weight of their mission hanging heavily over the group, but Isabella’s resolve was unwavering.
When they reached the gates, the guards called down, demanding to know who they were. Isabella stepped forward, her voice steady and commanding, “I am Lady Isabella, and these are my companions.”
There was a moment of silence as the guards conferred among themselves. Finally, the gates creaked open, and they were allowed entry. Isabella’s heart pounded as they stepped inside, her mind racing with a mixture of determination and dread.
Waiting for her at the entrance was Lord Erkmen, a man she had loathed for as long as she could remember. His presence was revolting to her, the mere sight of him stirring a deep disgust within her. His eyes lingered on her in a way that made her skin crawl, a lecherous smile playing on his lips as he looked her over.
“Lady Isabella,” Erkmen greeted her, his voice dripping with false warmth. “What a surprise to see you here.”
Isabella forced herself to maintain her composure, suppressing the urge to recoil from his presence. “Lord Erkmen,” she replied coolly, her eyes meeting his with a cold, unyielding gaze. “It has been too long.”
Erkmen’s smile widened, clearly mistaking her words for something other than the veiled contempt they held. “Indeed, it has. I must say, I didn’t expect you, of all places, to come here.”
Isabella’s stomach churned, but she kept her expression neutral. She knew she had to play this carefully, to make him believe she was here for reasons other than the truth. The fate of her people and her own depended on it.
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