Note: This story does not take place in the same universe as my Nightingale At The Museum series, though it does feature some of the characters from those stories.

...

It's so quiet in the room that I can actually hear the queen's occasional distant scream coming from the other side of the museum. King Ahkmenrah flinches every time she makes that sound, either his legs or his arms twitching and moving around restlessly in his chair. Honestly, I'm surprised that he's not reacting more strongly; the queen is his wife, after all. But maybe he knows that he can't do anything to help her.

"How long does childbirth usually take?" the king asks eventually, his voice shaky with worry.

"Ahk, it'll be okay," Neil Armstrong assures him from the chair next to his. "Flo knows exactly what to do."

"But she cannot assist in her own childbirth!" Ahkmenrah's voice rises in pitch and volume. "W-Will she even survive?! We are m-museum exhibits, for goodness sake! We were not made to deliver a child!"

"Well-."

"No comments about how I could never deliver a child even if I was a real person," Ahkmenrah adds, scowling down at the ground.

"Actually, I was going to point out that you ARE a real person, technically speaking," Neil says. "We're wax, but you're a mummified version of your real self."

Ahkmenrah blinks at him. "What?"

"If I may," I say, drawing the attention of the two men, "I think that Queen Florence will be absolutely fine. I once knew a woman, a nurse, who was only half as strong as Florence but she still managed to direct a group of barely competent men, including her own husband, through three successful childbirths."

"Really?" Ahkmenrah asks in surprise.

"Yes. I'm sure-." I break off briefly as we hear another long scream. "I'm sure Florence is fine. Women like her can do absolutely anything."

"She survived in the UNDERWORLD, Ahk," Neil points out. "Childbirth is nothing compared to that."

"I...You...You're right…" The king takes in a deep breath. "I must have faith in Florrie."

At that exact moment, another loud noise fills the air. However, this time, it is not a scream. It is a baby's cry.

Ahkmenrah's head snaps up and he jumps sharply to his feet, his pale face flooding with colour. "D-Do you...hear that…?" he whispers. "I...have… I have a s-son or daughter…"

Neil also stands up and grasps Ahkmenrah's shoulder, a wide smile on his face. "Congratulations, buddy."

"Congratulations," I contribute.

The door opens just then, and one of the civil war nurse puppets pokes her faceless head in. She beckons to Ahkmenrah, who hurriedly leaves Neil and rushes through the door, which is then closed again by the nurse.

There is an awkward silence in the room for a few minutes.

Then: "So are you a close friend of Flo's?" Neil asks.

I shake my head. "I barely know either the king or queen personally."

The astronaut frowns. "Then why are you here?"

"I am the prince's guardian," I reply. "I protect him and give him counsel. I also expect to be co-guardian of their child whenever business keeps the prince and princess away from him or her."

Neil stares at me for a moment, before frowning again. "Sorry, but who exactly are you?"

"My name is Elektra. I was a warrior and strategist in the Trojan army and bravely fought against those Greek scum who sought to invade us."

"A Trojan, huh?" Neil cocks his head. "Did you die in the Trojan War?"

I nod wordlessly, recalling my death and the tornado of emotions I had felt during my fatal battle.

"I died of old age," Neil tells me, "so I can't imagine dying in any other way, let alone in a war. Were you afraid?"

"I...was afraid of leaving my wife and family," I answer honestly. "I always suspected that I would die in battle someday so I had become accustomed to the idea of death. Just...not to the idea of leaving my wife behind."

Neil gives a start. "Wait...wife?"

"Yes. Sapphira."

The astronaut cocks his head. "Is she famous?"

"Famous?" I repeat, narrowing my eyes slightly. "No, neither Sapphira nor I made it into the history books. Apparently."

"Was she a warrior too?"

"She was a nurse."

Neil's eyes light up. "Oh! Like Flo?"

"Yes, I suppose. Except she lived two thousand years before Florence, so the science and technology that she could use to do her job was severely limited." I cannot help a smile as I think about Sapphira. "I wish she could have met Florence. She would have loved to learn from her."

Neil chuckles briefly. "Were you two...allowed to be together back then?"

"Not really," I respond, a small smirk on my face. "But nobody could stop us."

Silence follows this. I avert my eyes to the ground and let my shoulders drop. "I was killed while defending the temple," I say eventually, drawing the astronaut's attention back to me. "There was a secret tunnel in there, so we were evacuating as many people as we could, almost all women and children. Sapphira and our daughters were among them, so I knew I had to protect them and give them enough time to escape as possible." I inhale slowly. "I...still don't know if they made it to safety or not."

"You had daughters?" Neil murmurs.

"Yes. Hermione was biologically mine and Callisto was biologically Sapphira's. When I died, Hermione was seven and Callisto was four."

A smile spreads over Neil's face. "Beautiful names."

"Thank you." I smile back. "Did you have any children?"

"Yeah, three. Eric, Karen, and Mark." (1)

I think my heart has warmed at that. "I would have loved a son, but I was nevertheless happy with my two beautiful daughters. How was raising two sons?"

"A challenge," Neil chuckles. "But one I would definitely take on again if I had the chance."

We both fall silent again after that. I suspect that Neil only started the conversation to pass the time, but it was actually rather nice to talk about myself and my past. Although...remembering Sapphira is rather painful. I wish I could see her and hear her voice again… but unless she's made an exhibit and moved to this very museum, then it will be impossible.

After a while, the door opens again and Ahkmenrah appears, his face glowing with a bright smile. "Head into the foyer," he tells us. "We are about to announce the birth of the museum's heir."

…

(1) This is true.