Kingcess- The Child that Loved the World

 

Not so long ago in 24 BC, a royal couple defied the odds and evaded traditions of arranged marriages to be with, who they thought was their soulmate. Like many love stories that preceded them, it was like a match ordained by the God’s, specifically, Demeter or Aphrodite. Pleasure permeated their union, inflicting scares and remedies beyond their wildest imaginations- royal rabbits I suppose. That did not stop the young lovers from fraternizing and conducting chemistry experiments with their bodies. The King in his youth had built their kingdom on the hills of the Cockpit Country, overlooking the tides of the Caribbean Sea, and brokered alliances with the coastal Tainos, which nurtured a booming trading relationship between the two. The Cacique’s wife was fond of the Queen and gifted her an amulet, as a sign of her admiration for her profound strength and courage to fight for love.

As the years grew nigh, whispers grew loudly about The Crown’s heir apparent…or lack thereof, and that perplexed the Queen.

Noticing that his Queen had been unsettled, he inquired about the reason for her dissatisfaction.

“Who has appeared to trouble the heart of my beloved?” he questioned.

“My King, I haven’t sired your heir, and there have been whispers throughout the kingdom, to as far as the citadels on the coast that I have been stricken with a curse of barrenness,” the Queen responded with her face clasped in her hands.

The King was furious!

“My Queen, may the lips of every plebian, every man of noble blood be cursed who continues to share this careless, uncouth whisper.” He responded. “At once, I’ll have the hand of the King pen an amercement for any tongue that spreads this lie,” he continued.

Before long, the Queen was swollen with joy and pride. An heir was on the way!

The child crept out of her mother without a sound.

An eerie feeling pierced the bed chamber, as it chilled the celebrations. It was remarked upon

as an omen, as though silence was the choice she had made in her first moments, a sign of grace

or good breeding. The city bells rang anyway—silver-throated bells along the palace

towers—because the heir had arrived, because the line had not broken, because hope, like

tradition, required ceremony- and they celebrated.

The baby lay in the queen’s arms with her eyes open, dark and reflective, surveying the world

around her, anticipating her name day.

Her coronation was different from what the Queen Consort and King had hoped for, but it was extravagant, nonetheless.

The first sound she made was not a wail, but a murmur.

It cascaded from her mouth like waves dripping from the cliffs: soft, lilting, neither word nor

song. Time stood still. The handmaidens froze. The queen did not. She leant closer, smiling,

certain she alone was being addressed.

No one understood the sound. Yet as it filled the chamber, something loosened.

The king, who had stood apart in the distance with the stiffness of a man petrified with excitement, found himself stepping forward without knowing why. His hand came to rest over the queen’s, their fingers touching for the first time since the long months of careful duty. When their eyes met, surprise flickered—then warmth, then a tenderness so sudden it felt like memory returning.

The queen’s chamber was washed with tears of joy at the heir’s berth. In the distance of the room, a handmaiden whispered under her breath, but the room was so deafening that it pierced the silence with a clean cut!

“Blessed,” she gasped as the attention was briefly redirected to her.

A knight in the King’s Guard was being showered in cold sweats as the thought of having no wife and the inability to bear legitimate children engulfed him in guilt and wistfulness.

At a moment’s notice, the baby murmured the same sound once again. This time, longer, melodic and with the cadence of a noted orator. Something overshadowed the kingdom. A feeling of tranquility that soothed the skies at dusk. Blacksmiths were no longer wrangling with their apprentices. Couples in the courtyard were easier to get forgiveness. Less letters were written-as face-to-face conversations became easier. Crown clergymen agreed more and the peasants were no longer squabbling in the streets.

No one could have thought that the heir was responsible for this change. After all, she’s just a few hours old- but powerful she is.