It was the last day of spring. For almost thirty years, it's always raining in Amber that day. The sky is covered by dark, thick clouds and the rain falls endlessly for an entire day. I couldn't help it, and I didn't want it to.
"Amber is crying the sorrow of the King." That's what they say everywhere in the city. Each year.
I was standing on the battlements of the castle, soaked by the rain. I know many where looking at me by the windows but I didn't care. I closed my eyes, it was hard. Each year. Even with time passing by, I will always remember.
I could still hear her breath, her cries. Her face, noble, strong even with the pain. She knew all along she wont survive it. She told me so many times. I didn't believed her. I said she was worrying for nothing.
Eric and Corwin's births were difficult, laborious. She managed to be able to survive then, each time the deliveries almost brought her near to death. But she was strong. And, after that, miscarriages, three. I was worried, worried if she would get pregnant again, it would be the end of her. So I stopped sleeping with her. For her safety. She was angry when she heard for the first time about some mistress.
"The Queen is unable to give birth to a child without putting her life at risk, so the King got tired of her." That was the word at court. Don't thinkanything that is said at court doesn't come to my ears.
She heard that, too. And I didn't denied it. It wasn't true, but I didn't gave her an explanation. It's so easy, after, to say "I should have." But I hadn't the strength to explain to her I was worried for her life, that I wanted her to live more than having some moments of pleasure together. Amber was greatly pleased by the Queen. She was loved, almost revered in the kingdom. I couldn't put her in danger.
She begged me to return to her bed. I refused, so many times. Giving her no explanation. I am King I am not supposed to fear for anything - even my wife's death.
Until the sadness upon her was worrying me more than her possible death.
For one night, we had been together again. It was a beautiful night, we were so happy then.
Not so long after, she came to me, there was something between fear and joy in her eyes. "My love, I'm pregnant."
I was angry, so angry. I shouldn't have touched her again. It was a mistake. I remember breaking up my cup on the wall. I hated this child in her. I will hate it forever if it would kill her. She tried to calm me down but I pushed her away, again with no explanations.
I knew she was as much worried than I was. "Oberon, you must not worry for me. I will give you your first princess, and she will be loved and praised by Amber." she said, stroking her already roundish belly. "I don't want a princess. I want you." she kissed me on the cheek. "You'll forgot me. Others will take my place. Others who would be able to survive this."
I stood turning my back away from her with anger. "Stop talking like if you were already dead!"
She touched my shoulder. "We both know I won't survive it, Oberon."
When the labor started, I was away in Shadow attending to an military emergency. Eric trumped me to warn me. I came back to Amber but as soon as I saw the face of the midwife, I knew it was going wrong. Faeilla gave birth to the first princess of Amber this night. A princess's birth and a Queen's death. "I forgive your unfaithfulness, my love. I understand why you did it. I love you, forever." It was her last words.
That night I held the small princess in my arms, already the portrait of her mother. I couldn't hate the child. She brought me a peace of mind, I had the feeling of Faeilla's spirit will survive with the little princess. I couldn't have guessed better, because growing up, without being even aware of it, she became the exact portrait of her mother, loved and praised by Amber, like she wished.

Almost thirty years later, I stood on the battlements, holding a small bird into my hands. Black, with blue gleams on it's feathers, the exact colour of her hair. She used to like the sound of its song. I looked down at the animal. "There will be others" she said.
I thought of Clarissa. I loved her. I allowed myself to love again. It was time to stop to mourn.
Today, Faeilla, is the last day I mourn your passing.
I opened my hands and let the bird fly away. In the second, in a wonderful farewell, thousands of black birds flew away from the streets of Amber to the raining sky.
I just stared at them for a moment in silence as they disappeared in the clouds. I turned back, some steps behind me, a beautiful woman was standing near the door, also looking at the sky with quiet but sad eyes. As I did every year, I kissed her forehead.
"Happy birthday, princess."
Perhaps on the same day, next year, the sun will shine upon Amber.