Page 1 of Dead Crown
Prologue
January, 1628
The baby was dead.
Reesing wanted to turn his head away from the sight of his pale wife and the tiny body on the blankets. He wanted to run outside, scream at Elira, and let the cold take him. Instead, he stared at the baby who would never take a single breath.
Last year had been dreadful, and what passed for spring there had brought no joy. The coming baby had been their bright spot as 1627 drew to a close, and he’d thought 1628 would be a year of life and healing.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” whispered the midwife.
Reesing almost wanted to rage at her so he’d have a way to vent himself. He wanted someone to blame who could also be threatened so they’d fix things and make the agony go away.
It wasn’t the midwife’s fault.
Aisi had bled so much inside, she'd passed out just after the final push. The midwife had used her healing magic to keep the Queen alive, but blood loss took time to recover from. She hadn’t been able to do a thing for the child, and no magic could undo death.
How was he supposed to tell Aisi the cord had been wrapped around their son’s neck? How in the realm was he supposed to tell her their little boy was dead when she came around?
Every single thing about him was perfect. He had all ten fingers and toes, and nearly translucent wisps of hair lay about his pointy ears. He had a small but fluffy tail and eyes the color of northern green sea ice like his Father, with slitted pupils that wouldn’t respond to light or dark in death.
He was the perfect little cat fairy baby they’d dreamed of for the past months while debating on names. But he’d never move.
Panic clawed at Reesing’s insides. He couldn't tell his wife and crush her with the words.
“Are you sure Aisi will live?” he demanded.
The midwife frantically nodded. “Yes, m’lord. She’ll need lots of rest and-”
“Keep her sedated if you need to until I return.” He pointed at the large leather bag she’d brought that sat on the floor with its limp strap. “You’re going to put Tivar’s body in there after I wrap him.”
Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Wh-what?! I'm-”
“Don’t argue!” He headed for the closet room with his ears pulled back.
Aisi had kept some of his Mother’s hand-knitted shawls as a memento, although she rarely wore them. The last Queen, Matta, had preferred darker colors, and Aisi, who had been born with poor eyesight that couldn't be fixed with spectacles, probably wouldn’t notice if one went missing. On the bottom shelf in the back, he found three blue ones.
He took one with scalloped edges and returned to the bed to wrap his precious son. “Keep his Grandmother’s shawl around him. It’ll be his shroud so he’ll have something from us. When you take him to your home, bury him deep in your herb garden so he’ll never be found, and no one will disturb him.”
A royal body should have been buried in the tomb. At least his son would be in Ymir’s dirt, and his body would never be tampered with. He’d be safe in a quiet spot where life grew to aid others.
The midwife stared at him as if he’d asked her to take the body, tear it apart, and fling the pieces from the Castle roof.
“Keep him in your bag until you get home later. For now, stay here, and if she wakes up, sedate her. If she asks for Tivar, sayI took him to the physician’s rooms because I just wanted to be doubly sure he’s all right. I’ll be back in a bit with a new baby.”
“A new baby?! And you expect me to bury your son in my herb garden?” The midwife gripped the base of the tiny horns poking out of her bluish-blonde hair.
He paused with his son. “Yes, and you’ll do it. If you ever say a word about this, you’ll know what prison is like.”
That shut her up. Reesing paused before he forced himself to forever hide his baby’s face with the fabric. Once the body was fully swaddled, he handed it to the midwife and left the room.
His younger half-brother with no blood relation to the crown line was pacing the hall. Elswere was probably imagining the time when his wife would give him a baby too. For a moment, his face lit up at the prospect of a niece or nephew when he spotted Reesing and hurried forward.
His smile dropped when he saw Reesing’s expression. “What? Is…”
“The cord…” Reesing closed the door and gripped the handle. “She bled a lot. She’ll live, and she’s passed out. Tivar was stillborn.” Elswere froze a foot away from him, and his tail went limp as he started to say something, but Reesing spoke again. “Put on dark clothes, go down to the carriage house, and tell the carriage hands to get lost if they’re around. Get the unmarked one ready. I’ll meet you down th-”
“What for?” interrupted Elswere.
