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It's a girl...
#WritcoStoryPrompt33
It's a girl! "
The doctor gushed, placing the wailing infant on the woman's chest.
She heaved trying to catch her breath in the aftermath of her gruelling labour. Tears of pain mingled briefly with tears of joy before dissolving into tears of sadness.
She had once again given birth to a girl! Her third daughter. What would her husband and in-laws do to her now?...
The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder as she wept. "Fair Majesty, the child is healthy and strong, you need not fear. Look at how happy she is! " he said with a comforting smile. Her daughter, a tiny, precious little thing, had ceased her crying almost the second she touched her mother's warm skin. Would that you knew the danger I face, doctor she wanted to say, but what was the use?
Hailing from the Italian Duchy of Forli, the doctor was ignorant to the affairs of this far-flung kingdom; he had come for gold, not politics. Nonetheless, he was as skilled as they say, seeing her through a protracted labour with a comforting ease and doses of some heady herbal concoction that went a long way in easing the pain. All six of Duchess Caterina Sforza’s children had been delivered by his hand, five of them boys, a blessing she had hoped would pass to her. A foolish thought. It was the virility of a great woman she lacked, no seed would fail to take in manlike Caterina.
A fresh run of tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned to the doctor. “Leave us now, please.”
A...
It's a girl! "
The doctor gushed, placing the wailing infant on the woman's chest.
She heaved trying to catch her breath in the aftermath of her gruelling labour. Tears of pain mingled briefly with tears of joy before dissolving into tears of sadness.
She had once again given birth to a girl! Her third daughter. What would her husband and in-laws do to her now?...
The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder as she wept. "Fair Majesty, the child is healthy and strong, you need not fear. Look at how happy she is! " he said with a comforting smile. Her daughter, a tiny, precious little thing, had ceased her crying almost the second she touched her mother's warm skin. Would that you knew the danger I face, doctor she wanted to say, but what was the use?
Hailing from the Italian Duchy of Forli, the doctor was ignorant to the affairs of this far-flung kingdom; he had come for gold, not politics. Nonetheless, he was as skilled as they say, seeing her through a protracted labour with a comforting ease and doses of some heady herbal concoction that went a long way in easing the pain. All six of Duchess Caterina Sforza’s children had been delivered by his hand, five of them boys, a blessing she had hoped would pass to her. A foolish thought. It was the virility of a great woman she lacked, no seed would fail to take in manlike Caterina.
A fresh run of tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned to the doctor. “Leave us now, please.”
A...
