Page 4 of The Princess and the Demon

“May I ask what the issue is?” I gesture towards the door of the chamber.

They look at each other quickly, likely trying to decide if they should divulge the information.

Lord Finley finally meets my gaze. I see worry there, and that familiar dread blooms within me.

“Her grace is struggling to fully deliver the child. We believe the babe may be…stuck.”

The dread takes hold, and I let out a shaky breath. The other physician regards me, his eyes beseeching.

“If we cannot find a way to help the child pass, we could lose both the mother and the child.”

They both bow before rushing down the corridor, whispering to each other.

I’m unable to move, and it’s like I’m cemented in place as another cry pierces the silence from the other side of the door.

My sister is struggling, and I’m letting my own fear get in the way of helping where I can…if I can. Willing myself to move, I walk to the door, grasping the latch.

I take a deep breath and push it open, walking inside.

I turn to close the door quietly before steeling myself.

The bed is large and canopied, with white linens draping gracefully at all four corners. Two handmaids rush around the room, and a midwife whispers to Ziterra.

Olam is kneeling at the side of the bed, her hand clasped in his. His eyes are so wide and full of fear. I walk to the other side of the bed, my heart sinking as I behold my sister.

She looks so small laying there in the center of the bed. Her face is gaunt, and a thin layer of sweat covers her skin. The dark circles under her eyes are proof of how exhausted she is.

Ziterra opens her eyes, looking over at me. She smiles weakly, attempting to speak.

I stop her, shaking my head and taking her other hand in mine.

“Save your strength.” I say, squeezing her hand gently.

She nods, laying her head back against the pillow. She takes a deep ragged breath, and my eyes raise to meet Olam’s. We exchange unspoken words, and then I look back down at Ziterra, visually assessing her.

She’s not a tall woman, and she’s not built to bear children. Not in the way I had seen other women both here in the palace and in the village below.

My eyes dip to her narrow hips and waist. If the baby can’t pass the birth canal, the only option is to cut open the mother to retrieve the child, lest they lose both.

An image pops into my mind, and my eyes dart back up to meet Olam’s again.

I gesture to the midwife, and when she approaches me, I lean in, whispering softly.

“Have you tried having her squat?”

The midwife regards me a moment before shaking her head.

“No, we haven’t tried that position yet, but we’ll try anything at this point.”

She walks around me to lean close to Ziterra. “Your grace, would you be willing to try something different?”

Ziterra looks at me with tired eyes before glancing over at Olam. She nods, and the maids and midwife start bustling around the bed, trying to get her up.

Two maids tie linens to the posts at the end of the bed, while the midwife pulls Ziterra up into a seated position. “When you’re ready, get your feet under you, and squat down.” She hands her the end of the linen ties.

“Hold onto these, and bear down, from here.” She pats the upper part of Ziterra’s stomach.

Ziterra winces, groaning as she attempts to get herself into position.

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