Cindra had met Eallair in the hall rushing hurriedly from the room, the roar of Lochan’s curses ringing behind him. Evidently Eallair in his nervous state had said the wrong thing and been sent away. But it was not a time to be alone so she had crept through the door, carefully pulling up a chair beside Lochan without a word, tentatively reaching out a warm, sure hand to rest over his trembling one.

And so they had sat as the hours ticked by, in silence, the only sound the ragged breath whistling between his grinding teeth.

Finally he turned to her and in his eyes she saw such boundless terror that she was frightened herself.

“Cindra…”, he moaned between chattering teeth, “Cindra what if…”.

She didn’t let him finish cutting him off with, “What if what. None of your nonsense then. There will be no what if. She is with Goodwife Cade, the best midwife our kingdom has ever had and all will be well”.

“All will be well”, she repeated again with the best smile she could muster, patting his hand awkwardly.

But even she realised it was a poor replacement for her usual laughing mouth and he must have known it too.

But it was the best that she could do. It was not supposed to be like this. He comforted her, there had never been anything else and now she was terrified of setting a foot astray and ruining everything they had rebuilt over the last months. She had always had his hand to guide her as she tottered on stumpy legs through puddles, his strong arms to lift her when the wall was too high.

But she was all he had as his wife lay moaning and screaming in pain and she would not falter. She would help him along this path as he had done for her so many times before. She squeezed his hand a little more tightly, interlacing her slender fingers with his.

“They will both be fine”, she said again in a firm voice, though to her shame she did not quite believe it. Isaura had awoke bleeding which was not a good sign.

Lochan’s lower lip was trembling as he bit furiously, his eyes swimming with unshed tears.

“I forgot to tell her I loved her before I went”, he said, his voice low and hollow.

“She knows Lochan”, Cindra replied.

“But what if…”.

“I said no what ifs Lochan. She knows and soon you will be able to tell her again yourself”.

She opened her mouth to speak more words of comfort but shut it abruptly at the sound of footsteps coming down the wooden hallways.

Lochan leapt from his chair, gazing in horror at the door that would soon open and admit the rest of his life, whether good or bad.

Cindra silently steeled herself in case it was bad.

The door clicked open and the Queen walked in carrying a squirming bundle in her arms. Cindra did a quick count of limbs, fingers and toes but the baby seemed healthy enough. It was gazing with interest at Madlenka’s thick ponytail the tip of which was dangling within reach of the clumsily grasping fingers. It batted wildly with tiny hands, trying to catch this fascinating object but could not muster the coordination needed to succeed.

Still Cindra was frightened to look upon the woman’s face and see what lay there. She glanced at Nyawe who was smirking slightly but that did not give her the answer she sought. Nyawe was the sort of woman to smirk at another’s misfortune, particularly if it meant one less wife in the world.

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief when she saw the joyful smile that was plastered across Madlenka’s rosy face. Surely if things had gone badly she would not have been able to smile so.

“My wife…”, Lochan managed to croak.

“She’s doing fine Lochan, a little tired but otherwise fine. She’s resting now but you can see her soon”, Madlenka replied.

“And I have a little someone here who is very keen to meet you”.

Cindra peered around Lochan’s shoulder to see the baby gazing with rapt attention at her father. What a dear little thing it was! And so robust. She could not quite believe it had come from the belly of Isaura. All her energy must have gone into this small pink thing which was now snuffling softly in Madlenka’s arms.

“This is your daughter Lochan”, Madlenka said softly, holding her out to his outstretched trembling arms.

Lochan took the baby carefully, as though frightened she would break if he bumped too hard, cradling her tiny body in his arms.

The two gazed at each other, the baby awkwardly patting at his face with her soft hands.

“My daughter… “, he repeated in awe, his mouth working painfully between a smile of wonder and a grimace.

“Alright then, we should leave the two of you alone to become acquainted. Come on then ladies”.

“I want her to stay”, Lochan murmured, his mouth against the soft skin of his daughter’s head.

“Of course she can stay with her papa, I meant the rest of us silly”.

Cindra moved to leave but Lochan said softly, “I meant Cindra”.

The smile dropped from Madlenka’s face as she stared at Cindra sourly. Her disapproval was obvious and Cindra knew why. It should have been her husband there with his friend, not Cindra. It was not the place for the women to be that night.

“Very well then”, she said haughtily and turning on her heel they left, closing the door with a loud click behind them.

A rattling sob rose in Lochan’s throat, muffled by his daughters neck.

Without a thought Cindra rushed up, wrapping her arms around the two of them. She stroked Lochan’s shivering back, burying her face in the warmth of his hair. His wife was not here to comfort him and so it was obvious that she must.

They stayed like that for a long time as Lochan wept, with Cindra and the baby clinging desperately to his shaking body.

Murchadh, Tadhgar, The Royal Family