Brooke never had a child though she wished and she prayed but it seemed like no man was the right match. She was the young duchess in the land of Androhath, her nephew was to become king when he was married. A king presented himself before her one day in hope she would marry him and become mother to his newborn daughter, Eira Gwyn . Brooke was taken back, this seemed to be exactly what she had been praying for. She had raised her nephew, Mark, and he was old enough to take over the kingdom as a prince; so she accepted the king's offer. Her servants packed her bags and she was off to the land of Thork to meet her new family. She didn't have any time to settle in, she was married as soon as she stepped off the carriage. After the ceremony she finally was able to step into the castle and see her new home. Her oldest friend, Alvar, was the only familiar face she got.

"Alvar!" she rushed to him and wrapped him in a tight hug, "I am pleased you came along." she pulled back and took his hands in hers.

"My...queen," he bowed to her and she giggled, "I never left you even when you moved into your father's castle to help with your nephew, I am with you now as you move into your husbands castle to care for his child. Are you excited?" he gripped her hands.

"Yes! Can you tell?"

"Yes, my queen."

She pulled her hands away from him and took two steps back. She crossed her arms over her chest and said, "we have been friends for nearly an eternity! You can't just use my name? Even as duchess of Androhath you called me Brooke."

"I've always called you 'Princess' Brooke. Now you're 'Queen' Brooke!" Alvar smiled at her, but she was still unamused. "Queen Brooke, let us tend to your new baby daughter."

"You're not free from this yet." she walked over and took his arm, "lets."

They walked arm and arm throughout the castle. Alvar showed her where her room would be and next to her room was Eira Gwyn. Brooke looked at the child and was in awe. The child was so pale, it was if she was glowing white, her hair was darker than the black blanket covering her, and her lips seemed to be stained with blood.

"This is the young princess." Alvar gentle let go of Brooke.

"Is she sick!" Brooke cried.

"No, this is how she was born and the doctor said 'she was quite healthy'."

"Is she cursed?" Brooke whispered.

"Perhaps." Alvar turned Brooke to face him, "Brooke, you prayed for a child to call your own. This is now YOUR daughter, it's not like at home where he was your nephew. All traces of her mother are being removed from this castle, as we speak! You will not tell her she was born from another, she is the child the gods gave you. Are you not grateful? Are you questioning the powers that they hold?"

"No, no!" Brooke shook her head violently.

"Then thank the gods! Thank the heavens!" Alvar grabbed Brooke's face so she couldn't shake but had to look directly at him, "Pray you will be the right mother to this child cursed or not!" Alvar release Brooke and she stumbled back.

"Y-yes, of course." Brooke slowly got back on her feet then faced the child. The innocent little girl looked back. Brooke picked the little girl up and held her out at a distance.

"Queen Brooke, please hold the child." Alvar was making no effort to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"I am, I'm holding the child." Brooke shifted but wouldn't pull the girl closer. Alvar pushed the young princess into Brooke. Brooke almost screamed but suppressed it to a little gasp. "I'm holding it."

"She is a beautiful girl." Alvar petted the young princess' hair.

"She, she's a child."

"Queen Brooke, please try!" Alvar stepped away. Brooke stood refusing to look at the girl, "Please Princess Brooke!" Brooke finally looked down at the infant in her hands. The child looked up and smiled.

Brooke's heart melted for that child, it was her daughter and she loved her daughter more than anything in her life. She smiled and cradled her child in her arms.