Danika was able to call the guards. They came and took Vetta, and in a hurry, they rushed her to Baski's bedroom while another guard rushed out to go and inform the king.
King Lucien was in court when the news came to him. There was important business with the kingdom of Ijipt he was trying to finalize. So he ordered the guard to rush to Angie's place and call him.
Baski finished bathing, and after wrapping herself in a cloth, she quickly rushed out of her bathroom at the sound of commotion in her bedroom.
Danika was relieved to see her. She dried her tears, but more only kept coming. “She is b-bleeding badly. I don't know what happened.”
Baski paled at the sight of Vetta. Her stained clothes, her unconscious face.
“It’s alright. I’ll take care of her. Thank you so much for bringing her to me, Danika. I’ll try to do something before Angie gets here.” The older woman rushed towards her herb bag and picked it up. She dumped everything on the table and started looking for the herbs that stopped breathing first. Vetta was bleeding too much, and at that point, she’d bleed out and die. “Talk to me, Danika. Tell me what happened,” she asked a panicked Danika who hovered beside her, her face filled with concern and worry.
“I d-don’t even know how to explain it, Baski. We were talking...sh-she was scolding me, and all of a sudden, she grabbed her belly and began screaming.” Danika explained the best way she could amidst tears.
“Just like that?”
“Exactly l-like that!”
“Okay, okay, that’s good. Why don’t you wait outside, dearie? I’ll do everything I can to help her.”
“Alright,” Danika mumbled as she walked out of the room. She couldn’t help replaying that moment in her head over and over again.
The words the mistress said to her kept replaying in her mind. She leaned against the door, her hand to her belly in a tentative caress. New tears filled her eyes.
“What is going on with you, Kamara?” the queen asked immediately as they walked out of her father's study.
Kamara stared at the older version of herself. Her mother—like every other queen—was more of a queen than a mother. She loved her daughter so much, but her duties to her kingdom came first.
“Nothing is going on with me, Mother,” she responded automatically.
“I don't believe you.” That said, the queen turned towards her bedroom, leaving Kamara to follow.
She did. Inside the queen's chambers, Kamara closed the door behind her and faced her mother.
“You haven't been hunting, Kamara, have you?” She continued before Kamara could open her mouth. “And don't give me that lie about Manata cooking your meats. You know she is my cook too.”
Kamara lowered her head and sighed in defeat. “I love him, Mother.”
“Oh, Kamara.” The queen palmed her head like she suddenly developed a headache. “What do you think you're doing? Your father will skin you alive if he finds out about this!”
“That's why I don't want him to know. I don't want to marry King Lucien. I want to be with Callan, Mother. Why can't I be allowed to be happy?” she cried out.
“Because you're a princess, my dear. You duty comes first. Your duty to this kingdom and its people.” Queen Izia shook her head. “You're walking a dangerous road, my daughter.”
Kamara shrugged agitatedly. She walked closer to her mother and took her hand into her. She walked them until they were both seated on the bed. “Tell me the truth, Mother. If you were given a choice, would you have married Father? Would have preferred being his queen?”
“No,” she answered without batting an eye. “If I was given a choice, Kamara, I would have wanted to live a simple life with a nobleman who did not have much more duty than taking care of his household and his small business in the kingdom. But that is if I was given a choice, Kamara. I wasn't. We don't get a choice when it comes to doing the right thing,” Queen Izia concluded.
“And what is the right thing, Mother?” Kamara whispered sadly.
The queen took a deep breath as she watched her daughter. Kamara reminded her so much about herself when she was her age. So much about her young self that was so much in love with another and forced by duty to marry another.
“What is the right thing, Mother?” her daughter repeated.
“Putting your people above yourself. That is the right thing, my dear child,” Queen Izia replied at last.
Kamara stared at her hands. She closed her eyes and remembered how Callan's arms felt wrapped around hers. She remembered her mother's deep sadness because her husband favored his first mistress to her. She couldn’t remember seeing her mother happy for a long time.
Was this the life for her? Being unhappy for the rest of her life because she was born privileged? She was born a princess.
Tears filled her eyes. “I must be a very selfish person, Mother. Because I want to be happy more than I want to perform my duties,” she stated in a soft whisper.