Emily suddenly doubled over, mid-stride, one hand gripped at the intricately woven damask fabric of Derek's tunic, the other clutching her belly protectively. She gave a pained whimper and looked up at him with frightened eyes, shining with barely withheld tears.
"What is it?" Derek asked, helping her to sit on the edge of her library window seat. He kneeled down on the cold flagstones in front of her so that he could better meet her eyes. "Emily, are you alright?"
"She's coming," she whispered. Her fingers bunched up in the gown draping across the swell of her stomach.
His eyes widened with understanding, his hands covering hers on either side of her belly. "The baby? That's not possible. She isn't due."
"She's coming," Emily repeated, "Now." She grimaced and stiffened with the pain of the contraction.
Derek took several loping strides towards the door onto the corridor. "Penelope!" he shouted. With a fluttering sound, the fairy appeared before him, her pink luminance casting light in the otherwise dark corridor. "We need to get her in the wardrobe," his tone was urgent and demanding to mask the fear he felt.
"What?" Emily protested sharply, desperately, "No! I'm not ready!"
Derek started to retort, but Penelope interrupted with a trembling voice, "I…I'm afraid the wardrobe isn't ready just yet, your Highness."
He turned to look at his wife who stared back, tears in her eyes, a look of absolute devastation on her face, sharing in the understanding of what that meant for their daughter.
The first thing their daughter heard upon entering the world, aside from her own screaming, was the sound of alarm bells from the guard turrets and someone shouting, "The curse! The curse is coming!"
"Emily," Derek murmured, smoothing back her sweat-damp hair and kissing her forehead. "It's time."
"Not yet, please," she begged, "Just a little bit longer…" She pulled the tiny infant tighter against her chest and stroked the girl's head. She already had the brightest blue eyes and a tuft of brilliant red hair, taking after Derek's mother. She was beautiful and Emily knew she'd never loved anything quite this much.
"Emily…" His tone made it clear he was just as reluctant, just as heart-broken as she was, but he knew it must be done.
"I know," she whispered, "Just…let me say goodbye."
He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers and stroked the girl's forehead as together, they gazed upon the child they'd created together for what might be the last time.
"It's time," he repeated softly, kissing her to stop her protests as he gently lifted the baby out of her arms.
"Goodbye," she whispered as he sprinted out of the bedchambers – baby in one hand, sword in the other – and she was finally forced to accept the fact that her daughter was gone. She let out a heart-rending wail of despair and broke down entirely as she was forced to let her daughter go.
They knew the queen would be coming to gloat over taking away their happy ending as she'd promised on their wedding day. And if the baby wasn't in the wardrobe when she arrived, the curse would never be broken. She was their only hope.