Chapter CXXXVI: Go
Isabella and Alaric spent blissful months together in Rosehall, waiting for the birth of their fourth child. Each day felt like a gift to her, a peace she hadn’t known in years. She cherished the moments watching Alaric with their children—his laughter ringing through the halls as he played with Ikkar, Zayr, and Rya. The sight of them together, of her family finally whole, filled her with happiness and a sense of completeness.
But the pregnancy weighed heavily on her, more than the other two had. She often felt ill, and though she tried to dismiss it as the toll from the early months—her long flight on dragonback to Theran and the grueling battle at Rosehall—there was a lingering unease in her heart. Isabella told herself it was nothing, that she was just exhausted from all the trials they'd faced.
And yet, there was an unsettling feeling she couldn't shake. It was as if something was wrong, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She finally had everything she had ever dreamed of—her family together, her home, her crown. Why would anything feel wrong now? Why did a shadow still linger in her thoughts, even when everything seemed perfect?
Alaric and Isabella strolled slowly through the garden, his arm tightly wrapped around her, offering support as she leaned against him. Her steps were weak, and her belly, swollen with their unborn child, weighed her down heavily. She let out a soft sigh, her hand resting on the roundness of her stomach.
“My belly is so big… I hope it’s not twins again," Isabella murmured with a slight wince. "Rya came out so painfully.”
Alaric chuckled at the memory. “When Ikkar was born, I spent several hours just listening to you scream and cry behind the door. I can’t even imagine the pain you went through to push them out.”
Isabella laughed weakly. “It’s a lot of pain... but it usually disappears the moment I get to hold them in my arms. It makes it all worth it.”
Alaric smiled down at her, his expression tender. “I have a surprise for you.”
Isabella raised her brow curiously. “What is it?”
“It’s back in the palace," he said teasingly. "For when we return… Us and our children.”
Isabella sighed, looking around at the familiar gardens of Rosehall. “I’ll miss this place… But now that I can fly a dragon, it’ll be easier to come back and visit sometimes.”
Alaric didn’t respond, only smiled as if holding something back. As they walked a few more steps, Isabella suddenly placed her hand on her belly, her face tightening in pain. Alaric immediately stopped and held her firmly, his heart racing.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry creeping into his voice.
Isabella gasped softly, her hand pressing down on her stomach. “Baby is coming.”
Alaric carried Isabella in his arms, his heart pounding as he rushed through the halls, calling out for the nearest servants to fetch the midwives. Her gown was soaked, a clear sign her water had broken. He kicked open the doors to her bedroom and gently placed her on the bed. Isabella’s face was pale, her breathing shallow, as she gripped his arm and pulled him closer.
“Something is wrong,” she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
“What is it? What’s wrong, my love?” Alaric asked, panic rising in his chest.
“I don’t know, but something is wrong,” she gasped before letting out a scream of pain.
The midwives arrived quickly, bustling into the room with towels, water, and linens. Isabella’s grip on Alaric’s hand tightened as she pulled him toward her again. "If anything happens to me… You must promise me you'll take care of our children."
“Nothing will happen to you,” Alaric said, trying to keep his voice calm despite the dread growing in his gut. “You’ll be just fine.”
She squeezed his hand harder, and he winced as he heard his thumb snap. Her eyes were wild now, filled with desperation. “Promise me that if something happens, you will protect Allendor’s sovereignty and make sure Ikkar succeeds me.”
“You’ll be fine, Isabella," he said firmly, trying to reassure her. "In a few moments, we’ll be happy, smiling with our new baby. The pain will be gone, just like you said.”
Isabella screamed again, and the midwives hurried to lift her skirts, assessing the situation. Sweat covered her brow, and she turned her eyes back to Alaric, pleading.
“Promise me!”
Alaric’s heart clenched as he looked into her terrified eyes. He sighed deeply and finally nodded. “I promise. But nothing will happen to you, alright? You will deliver our baby and everything will be just fine.”
One of the midwives glanced up at him, her face grave. “The baby is not in the right position, my king. We will need to turn her around. You should wait outside.”
Isabella released his hand, her grip loosening as she met his eyes one last time. “Go.”
Alaric hesitated for a moment, fear gnawing at him, but he kissed her forehead and slowly stood. With one last look at Isabella, he stepped out of the room as the door closed behind him, the sound of her screams echoing in the halls.
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