My Little Princess

“What if it’s a girl?” Her beautiful smile faded away.

“What?”

“What if it’s a girl Ernest?” Hannah repeated softly, caressing her swollen belly.

Ernest frowned, pulling his lady close into a warm embrace, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

Hannah was dead serious. She separated, disturbing the blankets wrapped around them. She covered her body, not letting her bare chest be exposed. Ernest Wolfric straightened his nightshirt which was wrinkled as it brushed against her smooth, tender skin. It was a veil, hiding his scars beneath. They were all a reminder from his father, lessons that men had ordeals bequeathed to them alongside the responsibilities that he was yet to bear.

Right now, Ernest could not have cared less. Only Hannah mattered and his heart shattered listening to the distress in her voice. It was faint, subtle but very much there and so much more painful. If Ernest could, he would gladly take all that pain on himself.

She did not deserve this.

“Don’t think too much,” he finally held out his hand, hoping to comfort her. “Just rest and worry about your health.”

“So you don’t know?” Hannah looked at him with those sunken, tired eyes, reflecting his clean, young face. Her gaze was more sorrowful than tragedy. Ernest nudged her chin, making sure to be kind and gentle. He swept her blonde hair aside, letting it flow freely behind her. The sweet scent of lilac filled his nostrils while he drew himself closer and closer, feeling her soft breaths warm against his cheeks. “It won’t come to that.”

Hannah pulled away, “Are you so sure that I’ll give you a son?”

“No! I…”

Too late. Hannah had already turned away. With a groan, she sunk her head into the depths of her pillow. “I’m tired,” she announced. “Turn off the lamplight when you go to sleep.”

“Of course.”

Ernest did turn off the lamplight but sleep never came.

. . .

“You have been bestowed with a baby girl my Lord,” the Midwife delivered the news, drops of fresh blood stained her apron.

“And my wife…?”

“That will be all.” A voice, hard and rough, did not let Ernest listen to the answer. He turned around, only to be greeted by a pale, wrinkled face staring coldly into his soul. Sebastian Wolfric, Lord Autarch, was old but frim and tall, giving no hint of a decaying life.

“Father.” Ernest acknowledged, heart, thumping against his chest. Out of respect, he kept his gaze down, resisting the urge to clench his fists. Misconduct was not tolerated in this household so, instead, he focused on the dark cloak swaying along with the graceful rhythm of his father’s steps.

“Pathetic.” Sebastian, hands behind his back, blurted out. Pride filled his broad, masculine chest, fueling his resolve towards greatness. To many, he was how a man should be. “Disgraceful. Get back inside woman; I wish to speak with my son.”

The midwife, flushing, bowed, and departed.

“What is it, father?” Ernest finally summoned the courage to ask.

“Why do you concern yourself with that woman? She is an utter disgrace.”

“Father! That is my wife! You listen to me…!”

“Don’t you talk back to me boy! Only I know better so it would be wise that you know your place.”

Ernest, utterly powerless, fell silent.

Sebastian sighed, calming himself, “A woman has only two purposes; to please her man and to give him a worthy heir. She has failed in the latter and so, even the first purpose is rendered useless. What’s the point when she will never succeed?”

“What are you talking about?”

Sebastian grinned, probably for the first time in all his fifty years of life. “She has not told you has she? Not your fault. Even I realized too late.”

“Realize what?”

“That she is sick.”

“Lies.”

Sebastian shook his head, still smiling, “A man takes whatever he wants but never lies. The woman, you deem your wife, was always at risk. A single childbirth could have easily been the end of her. It was why labor took all day. Lucky for her, she survived but at an expense. She can no longer bear another seed.”

Ernest, at last clenching his fists, was speechless. What could he possibly say? This was not true, was it? Even if it was, why did it matter?

“There is no greater insult for a man,” Sebastian continued, “than a woman who cannot bear him an heir. What she did manage is useless to us. We do not need daughters in this household. They contribute nothing to the Wolfric name and are nothing but distractions. Only we can do what is necessary and right now, what is necessary is to cut the roots.”

Ernest nearly gasped. His eyes widened in horror. He knew exactly what this meant. “You expect me to betray my family?”

“Be a man!” Sebastian, the Lord Autarch, grabbed his son’s shoulders, pressing them tightly. “The Wolfrics are your family! Hannah is just a woman who took our name, so is the child. What do you think will happen when our enemies find out? What do you think our face will be knowing that we do not have an heir? By the Fates, you cannot remarry unless the spouse is cut off and her spawn is no more in this world. When all connections have been severed, only then can you begin anew. Do you understand?”

Ernest hesitated but nodded, “Yes father.”

“For the sake of our family. Say it.”

“For the sake of our family.”

. . .

The little one was finally asleep, cuddled beneath the warmth of the blankets and her mother’s gentle arm. Hannah let the tears flow, beaming as she caressed the little bundle more precious than gold. Gold could be replaced with more gold but not her. Softly and sweetly, Hannah kissed the little one, taking extreme care not to disturb her sound slumber. Her baby cheeks were so soft and puffy to the touch of her lips that it was impossible to resist another kiss.

So she didn’t.

“My darling,” Hannah whispered, sweating, her lungs fatigued, legs weak and her body aching all over. She had been never more scared in her life but, then again, for a mother, it was worth every moment of the agony.

Or was it?

Ernest walked into the room, his face as pale as ever and his short, deep blonde hair glimmering with the dim light, complementing his light, combed beard. Despite the lit brazier protecting against the winter cold, a chill crept up Hannah’s spine when he dismissed the silent Midwife.

Ernest stepped forward, resting by his wife’s side while his eyes, gleaming and twinkling but also… grey, did not leave the little bundle for even a moment. Were those tears? Even if they were, he held the back. Why could he not show himself? Why did duty have to hold him back?

Struggling faintly, Hannah sat upright. She firmly stared at her husband, smiling with ambiance, “She is a blessing isn’t she?”

Ernest remained silent.

“Isn’t she?” Hannah repeated, desperate for an answer. “Tell me! Please… I want to know, I want to be sure. I can’t take this restlessness anymore. If you won’t answer me today then when?”

He still did not answer.

“What happens to our daughter? I don’t care about myself so answer me!”

This time, Ernest looked up and his face said it all.

“No…” Shocked, Hannah slowly shook her head in denial. “No! You wouldn’t dare…”

“You know then don’t you?” Her husband said. “You always have known.”

As a sorry attempt to comfort, he moved to hold her hand, pretending to be affectionate. She pulled away, instead wrapping herself around her baby. Hannah would not let anyone touch the little one, not even the man who was supposed to be her father. She would rather die.

Unfortunately, mothers were always left helpless. Hannah was too weak and so her grip did not last. She thrashed and kicked and bit and gnawed but it was all futile. Ernest merely took the wailing baby from her arms.

“STOP!” Hannah cried. “GIVE HER BACK!”

She dragged herself on the floor, desperately fighting for the sake of her daughter but like all that she did, it was fruitless. The Midwife, who just rushed in, held the crying mother back under Ernest’s orders.

“YOU MONSTER!” Hannah screamed at the top of her lungs. “ARE YOU A MAN NOW?! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR OWN DAUGHTER?!”

But her husband ignored her, locking the door behind him. The Midwife finally let the desperate mother go.

“Let me out!” Hannah begged, “Please, do whatever you want with me! Just don’t hurt my baby girl! I beg you PLEASE!”

However, she was met with no response; only the little one’s cried fading in the distance.

“Please… No…” Shaking, Hannah fell by the door, her will broke completely. Why was she always so helpless?

. . .

The furs did nothing to shut the cold, empty void around him. Only silence prevailed with the trees as their company, both watching and observing with curiosity. The leaves rustled against the gentle wind. Ernest stood by the lake, utterly frozen but not from the cold. The water, too, was so still that the stars of the night sky reflected on its smooth surface, forming constellations in the space above and below.

It did not matter. It was all the same.

Ernest glanced down, heart thumping against his chest. Hannah’s screams still echoed in his mind, the pain of labor etched into his muscles but he could never truly feel it. Why would a man ever feel in the first place? Meanwhile, the little one was so soft, so light that she was not even there. She might as well been a spirit, a Heavenly Angel even but these were all fantasies.

‘Be a man.’

These words repeated themselves over and over and over again.

‘Be a man.’

‘Be a man.’

Ernest sighed, taking a dangerous step forward. “In a way, I’m doing what’s best for you,” he softly spoke to no one in particular. “Your life would have been a waste anyway. My mother’s was. Because let’s face it, you are a girl. Even with the Wolfric name, how far could you really go? You would have to give it up one day so what, then, is the point? Besides that, what else could you offer? You’re just a bud only to be used and reused and used and reused again and again and again until you’ve been bled completely dry.”

He paused, caressing the squirming bundle with care. “This was what people expected from your mother when she was betrothed to me. Honestly, what else there is to you? No dreams, no ambitions, no adventures… Nothing at all so I doubt you’re missing much.”

Ernest held the child right on top of the lake, his arms outstretched. He waited and waited and waited. What was he waiting for? The Wolfric name must live on. Out of the blue, the little one turned her head to face the man, giggling for no reason. Her eyes were just like her mother’s.

This was wrong. What he said, what he did, and what he was about to do; it was all wrong.

Eyes watering, Ernest pulled back, hugging his little one tightly. Leaning against an old oak tree, he sat beneath its branches and leaves, rustling once more. “No,” Ernest whispered. “This is not how your life would be. I won’t let it. Damn what the Autarch says. If being a man means having to betray the ones who love me, trust me, and depend on me then I’d rather not be a man at all.”

He sighed, wiped his eyes, and kissed the little one on the head. Guilt twisted his heart, burdening it tremendously, “I ought to apologize to your mother. I doubt that she will forgive me and I understand. Even if she hates me after this, I will always be faithful to her and give her the love that she deserves so very much. I don’t care if it makes me look weak. She is my queen.”

“And you,” Ernest addressed his little one directly now. I’ll just say you are you. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. Like I said, you are a girl and people will talk. Just don’t listen to them. Know that no matter what you do, your mother and I will always support you even when everyone else will be against you. I know you will make us proud… Wait, I haven’t given you a name yet, right? Let’s see…Hmmm… Vienna Wolfric! How does that sound?”

The little one’s toothless smile was the only response.

Ernest felt his heart melt, “I’m so glad you like it. I promise you Vienna that I will give you the world because that is what you deserve. After all, you are my little princess aren’t you?”