Four months had passed since the beginning of her pregnancy. As the nausea grew more intense than ever, her belly continued to swell, and her resolve waned as moving around became more and more difficult. The bracelet she had received on her wedding felt tighter with each passing day.

  Her handmaiden took the utmost care of her, bringing her the finest dishes the palace had to offer, regardless of local or seasonal produce. Yet Cerena, now twenty-seven, no longer took any pleasure in eating, unable to tolerate even the slightest strong scent or certain foods.

  “My Lady, you must force yourself! You need to build up your strength—you are no longer alone in this body!” her handmaiden said to her, her tone feigning mild reproach.

  But her encouragements went unanswered.

  ???

  The following month, a profound fatigue overwhelmed Cerena. She no longer made any effort to rise. Time began to stretch endlessly before her. Doctors and healers came to see her daily, yet her condition did not strike them as concerning.

  Her two previous pregnancies had been too brief, and too distant, to have left a lasting mark on her. And yet, two memories resurfaced.

  The most recent was her companion, Elvira’s father—an unwavering source of support whose healing magic had spared her countless hardships. She wished he were there, though she knew it was impossible… What would her husband, the Emperor, do if her companion appeared before him? She dared not imagine it.

  The second memory sent a chill down her spine. After Owen’s birth, nearly nine years earlier, the Emperor had sought to take her child from her… and it had ended in tragedy. She could not help but think that the same fate would surely repeat itself if she did nothing to prevent it.

  More questions crowded her mind: would the unborn child meet the same fate as Owen, pushed to his limits solely to awaken his abilities? If she gave birth to a daughter, how would the Emperor react? Would she be safe? Would the Emperor once again change his attitude toward Cerena herself, once she had given birth?

  A deep anguish surged within her—a feeling she had managed to suppress until now.

  And when the Emperor finally entered her chamber, she gave a start, a reaction that did not fail to surprise him.

  “Art all things well?” he asked, a questioning look in his eyes.

  She looked at him, her heart racing, considering how to broach the subject.

  “I… I was simply lost in thought.”

  He approached and sat beside her on the bed. His gaze—and his hand—came to rest upon her belly, and after a moment, he said,

  “Thou hast no cause for concern. It shall take whatever time may be required.”

  She shook her head.

  “No… that is not it.”

  She hesitated, then continued,

  “Sire… may I ask you… what will happen once he is born?”

  He lifted his eyes to her, weighing his words.

  “Tell me what troubles thy mind. Speak plainly.”

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  Drawing a deep breath, she replied,

  “Will you separate me from my child? Will you cease to visit me? Will I be left alone again?”

  As she uttered her final words, her breathing quickened, her pulse racing, a wave of heat washing over her. She stared at him, fear heavy in her gaze, bracing herself for a possible reprimand.

  The moment that followed seemed to stretch into eternity, each scrutinizing the other’s reaction, until the tension eased slightly when he smiled.

  “I see. Thou hast nothing to fear, Cerena. The past lies behind us, and the circumstances are different. Thou art my wife.”

  Cerena let out a breath of relief she scarcely tried to conceal. He added,

  “Do not hesitate to ask thy maidservant, should thou need aught.”

  “Actually… there is something else I would like to know.”

  “What wouldst thou have?”

  “You have never spoken to me… about yourself. I would like to know more.”

  He withdrew his hand from her belly and studied her once more, his expression intent. He considered her words, then said,

  “Hast thou ever heard of the gods?”

  “Unfortunately, I was never truly instructed on the subject…”, she replied.

  “They manifest one day, in answer to a dire necessity,” he continued.

  “A necessity? Of what kind? And from whom does it arise?”

  “It may be all and naught at once—a need shared by many.”

  “What does this have to do with you?” she asked, frowning.

  “Six hundred years ago, war did ravage the continent. Mortals sought its end and called upon the gods. For that purpose was I brought forth, and toward that end did I found my Empire.”

  Listening intently, Cerena did not know how to respond to his story.

  “You have… remained all this time, solely to fulfill that wish?”

  “To bring peace and preserve it may seem simple in appearance, yet no concept is more fragile. Naught may secure it for ever. Mortals yield to future generations; the past is forgotten, and mistakes are repeated. My role is to uphold that peace, endlessly.”

  “But… if you are immortal, why do you need an heir?”

  He smiled softly.

  “So long as peace endures, my destiny is fulfilled, by whatsoever means may be required.”

  Cerena did not answer. His reasoning still eluded her… yet as she thought of the solitude in which he had lived for so long, her heart tightened.

  “Sire… thank you. Thank you for telling me.”

  He drew closer, placed one hand upon her belly and the other against her cheek, and kissed her.

  ???

  The sixth month passed so slowly that she thought it would never end. Cerena could no longer bear the waiting, nor all that her pregnancy entailed. Her belly had grown so large that she sometimes wondered how it was even possible; yet the doctors insisted there was nothing abnormal.

  She spent most of her time lying down, too exhausted to move, and although the nausea had faded, her appetite had not returned. It was time for it all to end.

  And end it did, at the close of those two long trimesters. Her handmaiden reacted with remarkable swiftness at the first signs of labor, having awaited this moment with as much impatience as Cerena herself.

  The Emperor also came to witness the birth as soon as word reached him, though he remained at a distance so as not to disturb. The birth proceeded rather quickly, given the long wait—the path already prepared.

  Exhausted, Cerena was about to be able to breathe freely at last, her child having come into the world. But while the doctors attended the newborn, another cried out suddenly, “There is another one!”

  Cries rang out from both his colleagues and the handmaiden. Cerena, stunned and utterly spent, prayed inwardly for it all to be over as soon as possible.