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The queen sat up in bed, her expression calm yet resolute. "I don't think I'll give birth today," she murmured, glancing out the window at the fading sunlight. "I don't feel like it."
The doctor, standing by her bedside, shook his head gently, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Listen to me, Your Highness, just this once, will you?"
She sighed, her hand resting on her swollen belly. "I listened to you eight months ago, and look where that got us."
With a soft chuckle, the doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going now, but remember—you're stronger than you think. I'll be back tomorrow, and we'll take care of everything, including our little prince." He caressed her hair tenderly before turning to leave.
The day passed uneventfully, and as dinner approached, the queen walked through the grand halls of the palace, her mind elsewhere. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen, stopping her in her tracks. A servant, noticing her discomfort, rushed forward, eyes wide with concern.
"Your Highness! The Queen is in labor—we must prepare for the delivery!"
The palace doctors were called immediately, and the king, informed of the situation, responded with a cool nod. "Do everything necessary, but remember—I want both my wife and child to come through this unharmed. The consequences will be dire if they do not."
His words were calm, but the servants could sense the underlying threat. The king was not a man who showed his emotions easily, and his stoic reaction to the news of the delivery left them in awe. He wasn't shocked; he had been prepared for this moment.
The queen was taken to the palace's grand operating room, a space reserved for royal births. For hours, the palace was filled with tense silence, broken only by the hurried footsteps of the doctors and nurses.
Exactly three hours later, at the stroke of 11 o'clock, the queen gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.
"Congratulations, Your Highness," the lead doctor announced with a relieved smile. "It's a prince. He's healthy and strong."
The queen, weak and exhausted, barely registered the words as she drifted in and out of consciousness. The doctors gently laid the baby beside her before quietly leaving the room.
Some time later, the king entered. His usual stern demeanor softened as he approached the bedside. He sat down beside the queen, his gaze lingering on her pale face and the small bundle resting beside her. For a moment, he said nothing, simply watching them both.
Then, his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "I was helpless," he confessed, his tone raw with guilt. "I couldn't save you... I 've ruined everything. But I'll make it right, I swear. I'm sorry." Tears, long held back, began to fall, and he wept silently for the next half hour, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch the queen's fingers.
The queen stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly regained consciousness. Through her hazy vision, she saw the king cradling their newborn son, speaking softly to him, though the words were lost to her in her thoughts.
Here's a more polished version of your scene:
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As the king murmured softly to the baby, he noticed the queen stirring. Her eyes fluttered open, and he turned towards her, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's a boy," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "He's beautiful, just like you. Would you like to hold him?"
The queen, still weak but filled with a newfound energy, reached out. The moment her arms wrapped around her baby, a wave of relief and joy washed over her. The pain that had gripped her for hours seemed to vanish, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love. A tear slipped down her cheek as she hugged her son close. "I'm the happiest person in the world right now," she whispered. She looked up at the king with a soft smile. "Have you thought of a name for him? I have so many in my mind. Would you like to hear them?"
The king, taken aback by the queen's sudden openness—something that rarely happened between them—nodded with a slight smile. "Yes, of course."
"Alexander... Lorry... Carpels... Carnot..." she began, listing names with a lightness in her voice, one after another, barely pausing between them. Her words trailed off into a playful ramble.
The king chuckled, stopping her gently. "Actually, I've thought of a name too." His tone was soft but firm, as though the name meant something deeply to him.
The queen tilted her head, curious. "Really? Tell me."
"Marcus," he said simply, watching her reaction closely.
The queen's expression shifted for a brief moment, something unreadable flickering across her face, but she quickly smiled, her voice warm. "Marcus... It's perfect. We'll name him Marcus."
Though she masked her feelings well, the king sensed the subtle change in her mood. Yet, seeing her smile, he allowed himself a rare moment of peace. The sight of his queen holding their son brought him a joy he hadn't anticipated.
The next day, the news of the prince's birth spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom. Celebrations erupted in every corner, with the people rejoicing in the arrival of the heir to the throne. Music filled the streets, and the palace buzzed with excitement.
Back in the queen's chambers, she lay with her baby, speaking softly to him. "You're so small and fragile," she cooed, brushing a hand across his tiny forehead. "But don't worry, my little love. Mama will take care of you."
Just then, a soft knock came at the door. The queen glanced up, her serene moment interrupted.
"Your Highness, Doctor Cloud is here," a servant announced from the doorway.
"Send him in," the queen replied, her voice calm yet commanding.
The doctor entered, bowing his head respectfully. "Congratulations, Your Highness," he said warmly.
The queen remained silent for a moment, observing him carefully.
Doctor Cloud, sensing her hesitation, smiled gently. "May I?" he asked, motioning towards the baby. "I'd like to hold him."
Without a word, the queen handed her newborn over to the doctor, watching as he cradled her son with practiced ease.
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Dr. Cloud stood by her side, observing the child. "He's beautiful, just like you," he said softly. "But his eyes… they are just like your father's. He carries the same fire."
The Queen's face, which had been lined with a mixture of exhaustion and joy, brightened slightly. "Do you think so? He looks like his grandfather, then." Her voice was soft, the weight of new motherhood settling in.
"Do you know what his name will be?" Dr. Cloud asked, his curiosity gentle but sincere.
The Queen's smile deepened, a touch of amusement playing on her lips. "How could you know that, Doctor?" She paused for a moment, gazing down at the infant in her arms. "Marcus. His name will be Marcus."
Dr. Cloud nodded approvingly. "Your choice is always the best."
Althea laughed quietly, shaking her head. "It wasn't my choice. Louis chose it, and I couldn't disagree."
Before Dr. Cloud could respond, a knock came at the door. A servant entered, bowing slightly before addressing the Queen. "Your Highness, it's time. The King is calling you. The people are eager to see the Prince."
The Queen sighed, reluctant to leave the quiet sanctuary of her chambers. "Tell the King I will be there in a few minutes."
The servant bowed again and retreated. Dr. Cloud leaned closer to the Queen, his tone more serious. "Stay close to the soldiers, and keep your sword with you."
Queen Carrie looked up at him, her brows knitting in concern. "Why? Is there danger?"
"It's for the Prince's safety. Just trust me," he replied firmly.
The Queen hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Very well, let's go."
Together, they made their way to the Royal Garden, a sprawling expanse large enough to hold fifteen thousand citizens. The King, tall and regal, was already standing before the crowd, delivering his speech. His words echoed across the garden, commanding respect and reverence from all who listened.
As his speech concluded, he stepped aside, gesturing toward the Queen. The royal ministers, standing beside the King, took the Prince in their arms, lifting him high above the crowd.
"Today," one of the ministers announced, his voice booming, "we celebrate the birth of our future ruler, a prince who will grow to be brave, kind, and strong. Please, all of you, welcome Prince Marcus."
The crowd erupted in applause, the sound of celebration filling the garden. People cheered, danced, and partook in the royal feast that had been laid out in honor of the newborn prince. As the festivities continued, Dr. Cloud approached the King, bowing his head in respect.
"Congratulations, Your Highness," he said, his voice steady.
The King, however, reached out, resting a hand on Dr. Cloud's shoulder before he could bow further. "There's no need for that," the King said, his voice softer now, a hint of affection in his tone. "Your place is here, beside me." With that, he pulled Dr. Cloud into a rare embrace.
Dr. Cloud smiled, a fleeting sadness crossing his features. "I wish I could call you by your name again," he murmured.
The King chuckled softly, but his eyes betrayed a deeper pain. "We don't have much time, do we?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet, almost vulnerable. "Do you want to play one last game?"
Dr. Cloud raised an eyebrow, amused. "You want to lose again?"
The King smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. "I've never won against you. Not in games, not in love, not in life."
The Doctor's smile faltered for a moment. "You've always been a worthy competitor," he offered gently.
The King shook his head. "But I've never won. Not once." He paused, his gaze far away. "All I ever wanted was to be loved… truly loved. To fall so deeply in love that nothing else mattered. But that was never in my fate."
Dr. Cloud's expression softened as he looked at the King. "Sometimes, God has something else in store for us. Something beautiful, even if we can't see it yet."
The King sighed heavily. "All I wanted was just one thing. To be loved by someone with all their heart." He glanced at the Doctor, the weight of years in his eyes. "But it wasn't meant to be."
Dr. Cloud nodded slowly, understanding the unspoken sorrow. "Come on," he said quietly. "It's time. Let's go."
The King straightened, his regal composure returning. "Very well," he said, though the sadness still lingered in his voice.
Together, they left the garden, the echoes of the crowd's cheers fading behind them as they disappeared into the shadows of the palace halls.
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