A/N: Word tells me that even after paring this chapter down for the last two days, it still clocks in at just over 6,900 words. I truly can't say anything without using 10 words when 4 would suffice!
Melodrama ahead, everyone has 'the feels' super hard this chapter!
8.
Sofia sat for a long time staring at the half open door Cedric had escaped through, remembering the past and reconsidering everything she'd believed about it.
Cedric had never told her what happened to end his marriage, and she'd never been able to bring herself to ask. But she'd lived for years now quietly certain her sorcerer's heart had been shattered by the wife who'd left him mere months after their wedding. And that he was, on some elemental level, still in love with her.
Despite this belief, Sofia suspected it would be almost comically simple to persuade Cedric to go to bed with her. Not because he was a fool, but because, even as a child, she'd held a rarified place in his life which allowed her to sway him to just about anything.
In all their years of friendship this power had only failed her on the day of her betrothal.
Yet after Freddie was born, and she'd finally grown up and rejected the lifetime of conditioning dictating a princess remain virtuous, faithful, and pure, she'd never attempted it.
Oh it was true, she'd fantasized often about taking Cedric for a lover, shamelessly aroused by visions of the depraved things she would do to him. But then morning would come and Sofia would remember the reality of such arrangements.
What started exciting and passionate always ended tedious and bitter. The joy of being in Cedric's bed would give way to the misery of having to return to Carl's. And while she'd never been possessive with others, she knew her love for him would give rise to an uncontainable jealousy, which would surely kill whatever affection he might otherwise grow to feel for her.
Then there was the looming threat of Carl.
She'd managed to keep her few affairs secret because she'd never let her desires cloud her judgement. But her husband already knew the truth of her feelings for her sorcerer and any inkling things had changed between them would have endangered Cedric's life. It was a threat so acutely terrifying she could never see past it.
Yet even if she'd overcome all those obstacles her most elemental truth remained.
Their rift all those years ago was still a knot of wounded tissue on her heart. A scar that would remain with Sofia forever, reminding her of his profound place in her life.
And over the years all of her feelings for him had continued to grow. Their friendship was so deeply a part of her now, it felt necessary to her existence in the same way as the beating of her heart or the movement of her blood. That made it too precious to be gambled for a few stolen moments of carnal pleasure.
She would only venture what they already had to have the one thing even more precious, his love. Something she never could if he was, in his soul, still Lucy's.
And yet Cedric was jealous! He was ragingly jealous of this imagined man he believed Sofia wanted. It was an emotion he couldn't possibly feel unless he had somehow, somewhere along the way, developed some feelings for her.
But when?
How many times had she thought he was backing away because he didn't have the heart to crush her, when really he'd been pulling away because he thought she was about to crush him? Were his feelings new or had they wasted years misunderstanding each other?
And even though he'd meant well, Freddie had gone and put one more misunderstanding between them.
Rising from her chair, Sofia moved with purpose, flying through the long, shadowed corridors on memory alone. She was so bent on getting to her sorcerer she nearly knocked down the figure meandering through the darkened halls.
"Freddie," she gasped, "I thought you were going to bed."
Her son's arms came out to steady her.
"I was, but when I got back to my room I remembered I needed to give you these." In his hand were two letters. Both looked quite aged and had broken seals… and were addressed to her!
"What are these?" She accepted them, puzzled since she couldn't ascertain anything else about them without better light.
"They're still going through Father's things." He explained. "You know what a hoarder he was." The boy smiled wistfully, but Sofia could feel the pain in his voice. His father had been such a huge figure in his life and, despite his attempts to be grown up and Princely, Frederick was still suffering. "Anyway Grandfather said these were found among his correspondence and since they were addressed to you he asked me to bring them."
Sofia put her hand on her son's cheek, letting her thumb rub against his skin soothingly for a few moments.
"Thank you," was all she said, knowing, especially after this afternoon, he wouldn't want her to coddle him… no matter how much he might need it.
"Goodnight." He turned back towards his rooms.
"Goodnight." She echoed, watching him until he was safely through his doors.
Once Freddie was gone Sofia looked between the letters in her hand and the door to Cedric's rooms.
A long sigh escaped her.
It was very possible he wouldn't even let her in. And though she could, she was reluctant to use a transport spell and essentially force him into a confrontation. Despite her ability to convince Cedric into almost anything, she knew from experience no good would come of cornering him.
"Good evening Madam, are you ready for bed?" Sofia's maid bobbed a curtsey when she entered her rooms.
"Hello Schwartz, yes I think I am."
Schwartz was a stodgy woman, grown portly in her old age. She'd been one of Anna-Grete's servants, but now Ann had moved to the country she had no need of a maid. She'd asked Sofia to take Schwartz on, fearing the old woman's brusk nature might make it impossible for her to find employment otherwise.
Though Schwartz wasn't a warm person, she was efficient, discrete, and loyal, all things Sofia prized above the openness so many people feigned in their attempts to win her favor.
"Schwartz, tomorrow I want you to take all the black dresses out of my closet and put them away." Cedric might get a reprieve tonight, but she intended to act soon now he'd given himself away. And when she did she wouldn't be wearing false mourning for another man.
Schwartz gave her a cross look.
"I saw Madam chose a blue travel gown this morning." The maid's voice skated perilously close to open disapproval.
After so many years as a Crown Princess, Sofia thought she should probably be irritated to have a servant take such a tone. But honesty was another thing she prized, had always prized, and she liked that Schwartz gave her opinion when she thought it mattered.
"I did." Sofia replied matter-of-factly.
"Your Highness knows it's custom to mourn for at least a year."
Sofia smiled. It's custom. How many times had Anna-Grete used those words when Sofia was new to court life? She'd given in because of them quite often in the beginning, and yet somewhere along the way the formidable Duchess had sheathed that weapon.
Sofia didn't think she'd grown more traditional with time, so perhaps Anna-Grete had looked at her one day and realized she wasn't a little girl, to be told what to do, anymore.
"Custom can go damn itself. I want them gone."
"As your Highness wishes." The elderly lady curtseyed even as she kept shaking her head.
When she was gone, Sofia shrugged out of the robe Schwartz always insisted in putting on her, picked up the letters, and made her way to the bed.
Once she was comfortable, she held up the first letter. The stationary and handwriting seemed oddly familiar but Sofia couldn't immediately place why. Laying it aside she turned to other. It too was faded, perhaps having been pink when the paper was new. Sofia turned it over to see the lettering on the front and a strangled cry ripped form her throat.
The letter was from her mother!
Her mother who had died nine years ago!
Rage welled up in her then and she had the overwhelming urge to take each of the mourning gowns out of her closet and rip them to shreds with her bare hands.
The bastard!
She'd known since that day at Skjolder he went through her mail. There was never any rhyme or reason to it. Sometimes letters came to her sealed, other times he had obviously apprehended them beforehand and didn't bother trying to hide it. It was merely another of Carl's attempts to make her feel as though he was always standing over her shoulder.
But to withhold a letter from her mother, even after her death, when he knew how broken Sofia had been. She almost felt she should tip her hat to him. He was a true master to make her feel so defeated even from the grave!
"I hope your burning right now!" She whispered into the darkness. Each word coming out slowly, roughly, because she had never wished such a thing on anyone. And once it was said she had a moment of fear. Could the amulet of Avalor hear her from across the many miles that separated them and curse Sofia for such a wish?
Of course nothing happened.
She knew it didn't work that way. And even if it did, Sofia had a feeling, despite its black and white estimation of the world, the amulet would make an exception this once knowing Carl deserved what she'd said and so much worse!
Putting aside her loathing for a man already going to dust, Sofia took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart.
Part of her wanted to rip open her mother's letter and devour every word, no matter how trivial or outdated. But another part held back. The sickness that took her mother had been swift, denying them the opportunity to say goodbye. Now, she held the last new words she would ever have from the woman she still missed every day.
It seemed to precious a gift to devour in mere seconds. Like a hungry child given a cupcake, it would be gone before she really had the chance to savor it.
Giving the letter a kiss, Sofia put it back in her lap and picked up the mystery envelope instead. Opening the warn, plain yellow paper Sofia unfurled the sheets within. There were only two, each filled in on just one side.
The first thing she noticed was the date.
The letter was over fourteen years old!
To be exact it was fourteen years, eight months, and three days old. Sofia knew this precisely, because it was dated on the day before Freddie was born! What could possibly have possessed Carl to withhold such an ancient letter?
Her curiosity peaked, she began to read and found herself lost in a maelstrom of emotions.
Princess Sofia,
As I write these words my husband is rushing to your side.
The Queen, your mother, burst into our chamber this afternoon, frantic. She had just received word you were in labor and things had taken a concerning turn. I assume she came with the intention of asking one, or both of us, to come with her and do what we could to assure your health and the safe delivery of your child.
But I will never know for certain, as she never got the chance to ask.
As soon as he knew you were in danger Cedric became as frantic as the Queen. Dressing in haste, throwing potions, spell books, and whatever ingredients he could lay his hands by, into a bag, and leaving without a word or a backward glance.
If I thought his actions were motivated by his nature as a healer, or even the genuine desire of one friend to come to the aid of another, I would find no fault in his conduct. As a healer, I give you my sincerest wishes for your welfare and your child's.
But I will not be here when my husband returns to have the firsthand account of your labors.
I will not be here because it is neither the compassion of a healer nor the affection of a friend which has compelled him to drop everything and fly to you.
I understood this before I married him, but chose to believe I could conqueror your hold on him as easily as I have battled and won over so many other diseases that seemed to others ungovernable.
Now I see with clarity the hubris of that belief. And have only myself to blame for the pain I feel at this moment and for the many unkind thoughts which have swirled in my brain since that door so unceremoniously closed.
For I believe you to be wholly innocent of the truth.
If I have not been made a complete fool, then allow me now to disabuse you of any illusions.
Your Highness, myhusband is in love with you.
Cedric loves you hopelessly, desperately, and unwaveringly. He has for as long as I've known him. And, knowing him as I do, he will likely continue to do so until his last breath is breathed.
I don't presume to tell you what you should do with this information. But for my part, I can no longer continue on like this. I do not think it a vanity to declare that I cannot live my life as a substitute for, or more likely a distraction from, his true desire.
But whether you chose to act or to remain silent, please treat him gently. You can have no idea how your silence nearly destroyed him. And if you were ever to treat him so again, I would not doubt but that you will break him beyond repair.
With Sincerity,
Lucy Brynn
The papers fluttered to the mattress, dropped from Sofia's now nerveless fingers.
But the words continued to echo in her head.
Cedric loved her.
He'd never loved Lucy! All these years she'd held back from ever asking about their end, thinking it would only cause them both pain to recount what she'd believed was the greatest loss of his life. And it never was.
Cedric was in love with her!
Again, Sofia's mind became a reel of images, memories flashing by one after the other.
Looking back with this new knowledge changed everything! She understood now the excessive emotion he'd displayed the night of Freddie's birth. She remembered his terror that night. The forcefulness she'd never seen from him before.
He'd refused to let her die.
He'd pleaded with her, bullied her, and outright commanded her to live. And now she finally understood….
Why wouldn't it end?
The hours seemed to blur together. It had been day, but now there were candles everywhere. The only things she could clearly focus on was the pain. Pain without relief, pain without end, and it was beginning to feel as though it was pain without purpose.
Sofia was only dimly aware of the midwife and the doctor, arguing in clipped whispers in the corner of the room, and of Anna-Grete and Elena sitting by her bedside, fanning her and running cool cloths over her forehead after every contraction.
She'd tried to throw Elena out when the pains had started becoming more urgent, but the countess had begged to stay. Taking Sofia's hand and looking earnestly into her eyes, she'd declared that despite the things Sofia had seen she was her friend and wanted to help.
At the time Sofia had blamed it on the pain, but really she'd felt guilty. Elena had tried several times to speak to her, after the night she'd discovered the affair, but Sofia had staunchly refused.
It was the same tactic she'd used against Cedric. Which had resulted only in her own devastation. And even though she knew she needed to grow up, become stronger and wiser in this new world she'd been thrust into, she was shocked to realize she was actually becoming embittered and hard.
And so she'd dug down deep and found some of the Sofia she'd been before coming to Freezenberg. Some of the girl who always forgave when she believed an apology sincere. Some of the girl who excelled at turning hostility into friendship. And she'd not only let Elena stay, but had thankfully taken the strength the other woman offered.
Except there didn't seem to be any strength left anywhere. And every time she felt another contraction coming she became terrified she couldn't take much more.
And then she felt shamed by her fear.
Why did she feel like she couldn't do this thing other women spoke of so proudly?
Sofia felt another wave of pain and as with all the others she refused to give in to the desire to scream. She might be afraid, but she was no coward! Rearing up from the pillows, she bit her lip, grunting as Anna-Grete and Elena let her squeeze their hands blue.
When it was finally over, she fell back on the pillows, barely aware of the blood she'd drawn, or the way she was smearing it around her mouth with her dry tongue. Each one was bringing her closer and closer to insensibility and yet nothing was happening? Why wasn't the baby coming?
Sofia noticed Elena out of the corner of her eye. She was staring holes in the distant forms of the doctor and midwife, but they ignored her, and so she turned to Anna-Grete. Sofia became aware the two were communicating silently over her head, both of them seeming to agree on something they wouldn't voice.
She wanted to ask what they were thinking, why they wouldn't speak, but before she could summon the energy there was a commotion outside her door.
"You're a lunatic if you think I'll allow him to enter. He's not a doctor, he has no business being in Sofia's chamber, seeing her while she's birthing my child! It's perverse!"
Carl.
Her greatest comfort had been his absence during this ordeal.
Despite his part in this, however lackluster, it simply wasn't seemly for a husband to be present during the birth of his child. It was a taboo she wouldn't have stood for under different circumstances, but was happy to uphold with him.
"Prince Carl, my daughter's life is in danger, and our Royal Sorcerer is a gifted healer. If you'd like to see your wife and child alive you'll let us pass."
Sofia whimpered at the sound of her mother's voice. The words hadn't really registered. Nothing did except for the primal need to have the person who could make it better beside her.
With everything in her she tried to sit up, but Anna-Grete pushed her gently back.
"Don't waste your strength child." She cooed, petting Sofia's sweaty brow, before looking over her head again. "Elena open the door!"
Sofia heard steps and then the sounds of the doors parting, and then nothing.
Another contraction rocked through her and the pain forced her upright. Without Elena's hand her right arm flailed and her concentration wavered and for the first time since all this began she shut her eyes tightly and screamed.
When it subsided, Sofia eyes fluttered and she tried to apologize for her outburst. That's when she realized there were three figures in the doorway. Carl, her mother, and…Cedric!
Her mother was toe to toe with her husband, not allowing Carl to get around her and grab the thinner man. But Cedric didn't seem to notice, he was completely fixated on her, his eyes wide with shock, his face draining of color. Then something in him seemed to come to life and he snapped around with more presence than she'd ever seen from him before.
Pulling out his wand he pointed it at Carl.
"Sonambula," he commanded sharply.
Carl had a single moment to look righteously outraged before collapsing in a heap at her mother's feet.
"Thank you Cedric," her mother said, looking down on the sleeping prince with disdain.
Cedric didn't bother to answer, instead he rushed to her, climbing onto the side of the bed Elena had vacated. Kneeling over her he took her hand in one of his and molded the other to her jaw, softly turning her to face him.
Sofia smiled weakly.
"Are you really here?"
"Of course I am. I can't let you…" Cedric swallowed hard, as though something were stuck in his throat, "I wouldn't let you go through this alone."
She looked up at him with wide, tremulous eyes.
"I think I could use the help of the greatest sorcerer in the universe."
She thought Cedric might have laughed, but the pain began to crest again and whatever reaction he was having stopped abruptly as she nearly broke his hand. He didn't pull away though, instead he endured it, and used his other to rub her neck and shoulder soothingly.
Falling back on the pillows she looked at him, drained and embarrassed to behave so in his presence.
But there was no reproach in his eyes. Instead he bent and kissed her forehead.
Miranda came to her other side and Sofia let herself sob a little as her mother embraced her.
"Mom, what's wrong?" She asked, after a moment. "No one will tell me, but I know something is wrong."
"Tell her." Her mother ordered looking at the doctor.
"Your Highness, your baby is in the wrong position, he's feet first. When I examined you last I thought nothing of it. I believed there was still plenty of time for him to move. But now…. He's also facing towards your back which is why your pains are so intense."
It was Sofia's turn to swallow hard. What the doctor said was frightening, but it still didn't account for the way Anna-Grete and Elena had been acting.
"There's something else."
The doctor grimaced.
"Highness, time is of the essence. The child's heartbeat has become erratic. I'm going to try to manually turn him so that he's head down, but if I can't…," his look turned sorrowful, "Madam, my duty to Freezenberg is clear. The child's life must be my first priority. If it comes to it, I won't have a choice but to cut the babe out."
"Get out!" Cedric's words were growled and Sofia realized he wasn't beside her any longer.
He was at the foot of the bed holding his wand to the doctor's throat, looking every bit the terrifying black mage he'd once dreamed of being.
"I have no choice!" The doctor defended, his voice quivering slightly as he lifted his hands in a sign of defenselessness.
"Are you also willing to let the Princess die…for the good of Freezenberg?" Cedric spit the words at the midwife, who was cowering just behind the doctor.
"I lost my own mother and older sister to childbed. It's why I became a midwife. To try and keep as many babies and their mothers' alive as I could."
"And you can turn the child?"
The midwife's face became confident. "Of course."
Cedric nodded before turning back to the doctor, using the same spell on him as he had on Carl. Once Anna-Grete and Elena had dragged him to lay next her husband, Cedric came back to her side.
"Sofia, I'm going to use a spell to try and ease the pain. To do it, I have to be touching you. I could give you any number of potions, but they would leave you muddled and we need you in your right mind."
Sofia watched the midwife roll up her sleeves and begin washing her hands and arms to her elbows.
"Cedric, I need to tell you…"
He tried to stop her with a finger over her lips and a pleading look, "Sofia don't, we're past all that."
She only grabbed his hand and kissed it.
"Please, if I really might…. I have to say it."
He became angry all of the sudden.
"Don't!" He snapped, startling her. "I don't want to hear it."
Sofia crumpled under the hardness of his gaze.
"Won't you ever let me make it right?"
Both of his hands cupped her face now, and his look morphed into something fierce and desperate.
"I don't want to hear it, because it's not about making it right. You want me to absolve you so you can move on with a clear conscience. Well I won't. There are things on both sides that have been left unsaid Sofia. So you'll just have to live."
"But, if I don't."
His voice took on the icy edge of command now.
"I have never released you, child. That means you are still my Apprentice and I am still your Master. That means my word is your law! You. Will. Not. Die! You will endure as you must. You will fight as you always have. And I swear to you, you will hold your child, alive, when all this is over!"
"There is not much time. We have to do this now, master sorcerer." The midwife broke into a world that had shrunk down to just the two of them.
Releasing her face, Cedric knelt once more at her side as the midwife lifted her nightgown, revealing the entire bottom half of her.
"Hold her legs." The midwife instructed Elena and Anna-Grete. "Majesty, hold her hand."
Her mother clasped her hand firmly as Cedric and midwife shared a look between them. Then he placed his hands on either side of her swollen belly and began speaking.
"Nihil Sentire," he chanted over and over.
Cedric's eyes closed in concentration and after a moment Sofia began to feel a kind of numbness. It was blissful after so many hours of pain. So blissful she nearly gasped when the midwife started her part of the task.
One hand went to the outside of her stomach, but the other delved far inside her, manipulating the baby, slowly moving it.
Sofia felt a kind of queasy horror at the sight, and chose to concentrate on Cedric instead. Watching him as he focused every ounce of his being on sparing her what she could only guess would have been a near unimaginable agony.
Ten minutes later the midwife had finished.
"The child is head down, but not descend."
Cedric stopped chanting and before he could even open his eyes Sofia was rocked by another contraction.
He looked guilt stricken as he took her hand.
"I can help with that too." Cedric answered, before turning to her and lifting their entwined fingers.
He held them to his chest, and looked at her with earnest remorse.
"You have to bear the pain from here. I can help, but I fear it will hurt more for going faster. I'm sorry."
She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "It's alright. I can do it."
He brought her hand to his lips before putting it down and placing his own back on her belly, starting a new chant.
He was right, the pain became even worse than before, but after a while the midwife's eyes widened and she looked up at Sofia.
"The next time you feel a contraction you must bear down hard. Do you understand Highness?"
Sofia nodded and gripped her mother's hand tightly.
The next pain came all to quickly and Sofia did as she was told, pushing with all her might. And she continued to push through the next several, screaming out, no longer caring who heard her or what they thought.
"One last time your highness and your child will be here!"
Sofia gathered her courage, giving the very last of her strength to a final hard effort, feeling as though she were being ripped apart by it. Then she fell back exhausted and hurting, only to realize the room had gone silent.
All eyes moved to the midwife, who was working hastily. The silence continued on joined by a thread of tension.
Then a shrill cry rent the air.
Cedric, her mother, Anna-Grete, and Elena all smiled with a mixture of relief and happiness and Sofia began to sob gratefully.
In her euphoria she didn't even try to disguise her emotions. Turning to Cedric she threw her arms around him, feeling something like paradise when he returned her embrace wholeheartedly.
Until the midwife handed the baby to her mother and pulled Cedric from her.
"She's bleeding. It's not just the tearing."
Sofia felt fear rising like a wave and saw the same emotion cross Cedric's face.
He rose with calm determination and crossed the room to his bag. But as he riffled through it, pulling out potion after potion, Sofia saw his hands had begun to tremble.
She was beginning to feel slightly woozy and her vision was blurring when he came back to her side holding three small vials.
"Bring me a cup," He ordered Elena.
The countess was to the small table by the window and back in a shot, handing him a half-drunk teacup.
Cedric dumped the cold tea onto the expensive Wei-Lingese rug at his feet and began mixing potions into it.
"Cedric…." Sofia blinked, not sure why she was having trouble seeing him.
"Drink this, drink it now." His voice was close to her and Sofia felt herself being lifted.
Then there was something at her lips, it was bitter and smelled terrible, and she was sure she knew what ingredient was making it stink so, but the name seemed just beyond her reach.
"Damn you Sofia, you have to drink it all!" Cedric was yelling now.
Why did it seem like all he did lately was yell at her? How could she be so in love with such a grouch? She had half a mind to tell him so.
"You're a huge asshole sometimes you know that!" She breathed, swallowing the last of the disgusting drink.
Sofia opened her eyes and the world seemed to come back into focus. She found herself wrapped in Cedric's arms, her face pressed into his chest as he stroked a hand through her sweaty hair.
"It's stopped!" The midwife's voice was awed.
"As long as you live, you can call me whatever like… you little brat." He sneered at her teasingly and she smiled in return, nuzzling her face into his bowtie.
"Your bow is crooked?" Was all she could think to say.
"I was in a bit of a rush when I tied it."
"Sofia would you like to meet your son?" Her mother asked.
Sofia turned and saw a squirming bundle in her mother's arms.
"It's a boy?" She asked awed by the sight of a bald little head.
Her mother nodded.
"And he's alright?" She asked as she held out her hands for him.
"He's perfect, and very hungry." Her mother laughed.
Miranda put the little one in Sofia's arms and once he was settled, she took the strings of Sofia's nightgown and pulled them until they unraveled. Her mother parted her gown, so her left side was exposed and helped her situate her son just right.
"Typical man," Elena laughed as they all watched the new Prince latch onto his mother's breast like a champion.
Sofia was entranced. He was so perfect, so small and beautiful. Turning to Cedric she found him staring openly, a bright blush painting his cheeks. The urge to blurt out how much she loved him was nearly overwhelming.
"You saved us." She said instead, letting her head lull onto his shoulder.
She felt his hand still working its way gently through her hair.
"You're my dearest friend," he whispered, "did you think I'd let anything happen to you?"
Sofia closed her eyes suddenly content with the world in a way she'd never expected to be again. He really had forgiven her. For now, just knowing that was enough. The words could wait for another time.
"Ughn," the groan shattered the joyous peace that had settled over the room and everyone turned to watch as Carl rose to his feet, holding his head in his hands.
He looked at the doctor, confused, and then at Cedric, eyes going wide with rage as he began moving. But before he reached the bed Elena was in front of him, her little hands on his chest, a mouse trying to overpower a lion.
"Get out of my way!" He roared.
"Carl no! Carl, listen to me!" She begged only to have him grab her wrist.
For a single horrifying moment Sofia was sure he was going to fling Elena across the room, but then she called his name again and he seemed to come too, as though he hadn't realized who was touching him. Sofia had never seen him be truly kind to anyone, never seen him back down when he was incensed. But he did now, dropping Elena's hand and looking at her with something Sofia thought might be remorse.
Whatever passed between them passed silently, but her husband seemed to calm enough to walk to the foot of her bed like a human being.
Despite the change in his demeanor she could feel Cedric tense behind her. She knew he wasn't the bravest of men, and so she was shocked when, instead of standing away from her, his hands gripped her shoulders ever tighter, pulling her closer, ready to protect her from the bigger man.
"Your highness, you have a son and Freezenberg has a prince." She said, her voice stronger than she felt.
"A son!" Carl's expression changed again.
He stared at the child at her breast for a long moment and then he looked up at her and spoke proudly.
"Well done." He said, surprising her. "We'll call him…."
She cut him off without a second thought.
"Frederick. His name is Frederick."
The color drained from her husband's face and his eyes immediately shifted back to the man beside her.
"He saved them both." Anna-Grete's voice broke through the morass of barely concealed aggression that once again permeated the room.
And then Elena was beside him, her hand going to his chest once more.
"Let it be." She said, and Sofia realized the countess was pushing Carl back. "For once, let it be."
Sofia watched her husband swallow down his temper for the second time tonight.
"Frederick, it's a good Freezenberger name." He said stiffly. "Frederick Carl. A good, princely, Freezenberger name.
He looked down at Elena, still angry, but following when she took his hand and led him from the room. Her lady in waiting looked back at the door, but Sofia couldn't read her expression.
"I thought…I thought you loved each other." Cedric's voice was soft, and Sofia was sure no one else had heard him.
They'd all moved away, giving her this one precious moment of unexpected privacy with her son and her sorcerer.
"I hate him and he hates me." She answered, looking down at her son, marveling at how her feelings for her child could be so wholly opposite to her feelings for his father.
Cedric's forehead fell onto her shoulder and she turned to him, their faces mere centimeters apart.
"You shouldn't name him…after me. Even if he accepted it tonight he'll make you pay for it later."
"I don't care." She wanted so badly to lean forward that last little bit and press her lips to his. "You saved his life. If I'd given him your exact name it would have been nothing but the proper honor. If I'd chosen to name him after the doctor Carl wouldn't have made an objection. It's just that it's you that makes him angry."
"I don't seem to do well with royalty do I?" He smiled, softly.
"You don't do well with fools." She looked down at her new love. "Help me teach him to be better than his father?"
"I will do my best to watch over him always."
Her sorcerer lifted a single finger to stroke against the newborn prince's soft head and Sofia heard the baby gurgle.
Lifting the now sleeping bundle off her breast she turned and put him in Cedric's arms.
Her sorcerer looked completely abashed at first, but then smiled down at the baby and cradled him like he'd been holding babies for years.
Closing her nightgown, she turned and snuggled into his side.
Just for tonight she would let herself have her long ago fantasy.
The three of them on a little bed, her exhausted, the both of them elated as they held a new life between them….
With trembling fingers Sofia picked up her mother's letter, hoping there might be some reassuring words of wisdom to quiet the storm that had churned up inside her. Because she felt sure if something didn't help, she'd never feel peaceful again.
My Sofia,
I'm so sorry I can't write these words to you myself, but the energy to pick up a pen seems already beyond me. So I've asked Suzette to be my hand.
My beautiful little girl. Before it's too late I want to tell you one last time how much I love you and how proud I am of the woman you've become.
You know titles mean as little to me as they do to you and so I want to tell you plainly, my pride is not in your title or in your future as a Queen, but in you Sofia. In your heart which beats so strongly with love for everyone, and in your soul which always strives to help those who can't help themselves.
You are, beyond a shadow of doubt, your father's daughter. And if Birk were still alive he would be as proud of you as I am.
But beyond saying I love you, which I hope you've always known. I have a confession to make. One I feel ashamed I never made in person.
Sofia I lied to you.
Or rather I kept something from you. Something so big the withholding was as good as a lie. I did it because, at the time, I wanted to spare you pain. I thought it was crueler to tell you a truth that couldn't be acted on than to keep you in ignorance. But you aren't a little girl anymore, and it wasn't my place to decide what you should know or not.
Sofia your feelings were never unrequited. Cedric loves you!
I didn't always know. But when you asked me to help him, after the two of you had fallen out, it became so clear. No man could suffer so tragically, so silently, for anything but love.
To this day when I think of the shade of a man who sat across from me at tea all those years ago, all I can think of is that driftwood in the tide.
I told you not build your life on love's foundation, but I'm afraid you thought I meant you shouldn't love at all. You are a mother, and a Princess. One day you'll be a Queen. You are a strong, brilliant, and talented woman with a heart as great as the sea your father loved so much. And where I would still tell another person not to follow their heart into a gale, as you surely must loving one man while married to another, I know now you can weather whatever storm comes your way.
If I don't see you again, know that you would never disappoint me by taking the happiness life offers.
I will always love you and will always be watching over you my sweet girl!
Your loving mother,
Miranda.
Sofia read the words over and over again, until her tears threatened to damage the letter irrevocably. She wanted to feel betrayed, she wanted to feel angry, but she couldn't.
Her mother had been human, and flawed, like every other person who had ever drawn breath, but nothing could overshadow the love Sofia felt in every line.
Her rage was for her husband, who'd stolen these letters and the knowledge contained within as easily and remorselessly as he'd stolen her hopes and dreams!
Sofia hadn't realized how loudly or violently she'd been crying, or that she was holding herself and rocking slowly back and forth among the scattered papers until the doors to her bedroom where thrown wide. Standing in the frame was a half-naked sorcerer in nothing but sleep pants. His wand was at the ready, as though he believed Sofia was being attacked.
She watched for a single, tear blurry moment, as he scanned the room confused, looking for the cause of her distress and finding nothing.
Then his eyes came to rest on her, taking in the mess on the bed and her tear streaked, nearly demented face.
And he rushed to her.
"In Merlin's name, Sofia, are you h…?" He never got the chance to finish because she flung herself at him.
Their bodies collided, limbs tangling as he fought to keep them upright.
"Cedric!" There was so much she had to say.
But looking at him, feeling him warm and practically naked against her, the words stuck in her throat. So she let instinct guide her, plunging her hands into hair and gripping the back of his neck.
"Sofia?" He still seemed befuddled.
So she dragged his mouth down to hers.