A gale blew over the grounds and against the shuttered windows, making a howling sound through the corridors and over the moors. Inside was a frenzy of muttered activity, everyone busy but making as little noise as possible. Then, piercing the quietness from behind two tall gilded doors, came the strangled scream of someone in pain. The pain of a woman in labour.
As suddenly as the scream came it went and was replaced, after a few moments, by a new cry, a softer cry and a sound that hadn't been heard for a while in the vast palace.
Inside the room, a woman laying exhausted on the bed whilst a man stroked her forehead, whispering calming and loving things to her. Silently she was handed a small bundle wrapped in gold by one of the other woman in the room. The tired mother stared down at the bundle, her face full of an exhausted happiness.
From the shadows of the room another man, tall and giving off an aura of majesty and power, stepped forward.
'She is beautiful. Have you decided on a name yet?'
The mother and father looked at each over and shared a secret, loving smile.
'Aelora.' They recited at once.
The man smiled. Stepping up to the small family, he bent over the little bundle and placed a kiss on the infants forehead.
'Welcome, Aelora Becket.'
