"Just keep breathing, my Lady. It's almost time," soothed the midwife as she held a damp cloth to the forehead of the noble woman in labor. "Your son will be here, soon."
Henry's hand was being crushed in a vice grip, but he didn't mind. His only hope was for both wife and child to survive the birth. There has already been a miscarriage in their marriage, and to make it so close to the finish line only to have something go wrong, experience another loss – that would be unthinkable.
"Oh!" exclaimed the mid-wife upon another glance between widely parted legs. "He's crowning! You can push now, my Lady."
She screamed and grunted with the effort and the pain of tearing. It was quite possibly the most exhausting thing she had ever endured.
"You're doing great, my love," Henry murmured encouragingly. He pressed kisses to the slender fingers that were currently squeezing the life out of his hand. As a reward for his sentiment, he was on the receiving end of a stern glare. He sighed, knowing his wife wasn't very fond of expressions of affection or terms of endearment. He had thought, though, if there were any time he could get away with it, it would be the present moment.
"Deep breaths, my Lady, deep breaths. Easy, easy… You are quite the strong woman, my Lady. Shouldn't be too much longer now. Push again," the midwife continued coaching. She had good reason to do her job as well as she could, as successfully birthing babes of nobility came with a reward hefty enough to make a decent living for an entire small family.
Minutes passed before a strong wail was heard, announcing the new arrival, with apparently very strong lungs. The midwife helped extract the babe the rest of the way when he was already nearly out from the combination of his own and his mother's efforts. She snipped the umbilical cord, then let out a gasp of surprise.
"Congratulations, Your Majesties, you have a daughter!"
An exasperated scoff came from the bed as the woman gave up all attempts to see the baby, allowing her body to go limp and relax from the recent effort instead.
The midwife cleaned up the baby, making her presentable. "Won't you like to hold her, my Lady?"
"A daughter is of no use to me!" spat the new mother bitterly. "What am I possibly supposed to do with a girl?"
"I am not high enough in the line of succession for it to matter whether I have a son or daughter, you know that." Henry pulled his hand away from his wife's. He looked at the midwife. "I'll take her." He was excited to meet his newborn.
Even as the girl was wrapped in cloth, then passed into her father's arms, she hadn't stopped crying.
"Take her away from me!" barked the mother. "She's too loud."
Henry looked at the midwife questioningly.
"This is a rather normal reaction," the midwife reassured him. "My Lady and her body have just been through quite the ordeal, my Prince. She needs rest, time to heal. Some quiet will help."
As honest and trustworthy as the midwife's words sounded, Henry suspected otherwise of his wife. She was disappointed to not have a son. Perhaps she even resented their daughter for it. In that moment, Henry felt himself falling out of love with his wife and a deep love for his daughter grew in its place. "Will you at least name her, Cora?"
Henry informed his father, King Xavier, of the news of his daughter's arrival.
"A daughter!" exclaimed the King. "How absolutely delightful for you!"
"I don't think my wife would be in agreement," Henry confided.
"Oh? Why is that?"
"She wouldn't hold her," Henry told him. "Wouldn't even look at her. The midwife said it was an ordinary reaction, but she had great interest in seeing the baby until she heard it was not the son she was expecting. So, I have come to ask you for a favor, Father."
"What do you need, son?"
"Could you consider bestowing upon my wife a higher ranking title? That may please her enough to soften the blow, allow for a much happier life for your newest granddaughter. Nothing too excessive, 'Princess' should suffice."
"Consider it done, Henry. I do so look forward to meeting the newest addition to our family."
A sizable crowd had gathered for the naming ceremony. Visitors from other Kingdoms, immediate and extended family, as well as select servants, including the midwife that had helped bring her into the world. When everyone had finished gathering and the chatter died down to a respectful silence, King Xavier approached his daughter-in law, who was holding his granddaughter in her arms. "Princess Cora," he projected his voice while speaking the new title. "Please." He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, a silent instruction to take her place by his son to make the announcement.
Cora was dressed in an elegant gown, hair piled atop her head in a fancy, regal style, complete with a tiara adorning her head. She held her daughter in her arms, whom had been dressed in a gorgeous custom designed white dress. She approached her husband, looking out at the sizable crowd, thankful that the girl was quiet for this very important event.
On the other side of Cora was King Xavier. "Tell me, daughter," he requested. "What's her name?"
Cora held her daughter in her arms in a way that allowed the crowd to see her face, as well as the King. "Her name is Regina," Cora announced. She lifted the girl higher, holding her just below her own head. "For one day, she will be Queen." As everyone, including the King and the Prince bowed, she held the girl even higher in the air, arms extending above her head for a moment before slowly lowering her to settle naturally in her arms once again. She swayed the slightest bit with baby Regina in her arms, standing tall as she observed the still bowing crowd, soaking in all the hard-earned respect she had always deserved. She glanced down at the babe in her arms, finally understanding what she could do with a girl.
Princess Cora could achieve her own second chance through Regina.