"No!" Queen Danika replied violently. Then gently, she pulled Vetta's body anyway from hers. "Hang in h-here. I'll get h-herbs that can stop your bleeding."
"You will be...wasting your t-time."
But even as Vetta breathed those words, Danika was already going through her cabinet at the other side of the room. Sounds of items being thrown about filled the bedroom as she searched for the remains of the dry leaves Baski always gave her whenever she was bleeding or spotting.
"This will stop the bleeding, my queen. This will stop the bleeding, my queen." Baski's voice rang in her ears over and over again.
A gasp of relief escaped her throat as she found the dry leaves. "Thank heavens, thank heavens!"
Vetta watched Danika through heavy-lidded eyes as she scrambled around to help her. She watched as Danika removed her footwear, held the leaves together on the table and began pounding them with her sandals.
The pregnant woman stopped in between, crying out in sheer pain. But when the pain seemed to lessen, she would continue pounding the leaves, panting in harsh breaths.
Tears wouldn't stop falling from Vetta's eyes. She could not believe that Danika could ever do this for her—trying to save her life in the thick of her own pain.
At that moment, whatever was left of Vetta's hatred for the daughter of Cone died a flawless death. Also, in that moment, whatever was left of her resentment for her and the king's union dissolved and faded away like mist. Letting go of those last pains, she felt lighter than she had ever felt in years—even lighter than she did when Declan came back.
"Aaah, this feels good," Vetta breathed out, her voice slurred. This must be the way Lucien felt in this woman's arms. No wonder he fell heads over heels for her. "I finally... understand," she added in a whisper. "I can now go...peacefully."
"You're not going anywhere, do you hear me!?" Danika hissed, her voice a cloud of anger and pain. Stirring the liquid in the wooden cup a few more time with her forefinger, she turned and faced the dying mistress. "It's ready."
Even as she announced, she was already walking gingerly towards Vetta. When she got close, she lowered herself down on the floor in the slowest movement, panting out in pain, but she was able to manage it. Then she lifted Vetta's head to her chest again and poured most of the herbal concoction on the stab wound. Danika still made sure that the sword remained intact inside the mistress, but she sighed with satisfaction when she saw the liquid making its way into her body through the wound.
"Ouch! Argh!" Vetta cried out, waves of agonizing pain slamming through her as the liquid entered her body.
"Sorry...so sorry." Queen Danika kissed her forehead affectionately, rubbing her arm in a soothing manner. Vetta clung to her like a lifeline as she whimpered repeatedly.
Another violent contraction overwhelmed the queen then—so excruciating—she screamed out loud, her fingers clutching Vetta's shoulder.
"S-sorry..." Her pain distracted Vetta. "Your child w-wants out...badly."
"I want to p-push so badly...but I...can't!" Tears streamed down Danika's cheeks as she panted. "Baski! I have to...wait for Baski..." Pause. "Can't do...it alone."
Vetta glanced at her face through heavy-lidded eyes. "You are the...strongest woman...I have ever met. You are what he...needs. A fighter, a healer, a queen and a saint...wrapped in one person. You must feel heavy... How do you get around carrying all that weight?"
The contraction was passing and it was leaving Danika very exhausted. She smiled through her tears. "I don't know...what you're talking about. The only weight...I carry...that is very overwhelming is my child inside...me. My waist is on fire." Then she raised the wooden cup again to Vetta's mouth. "Here, drink this one."
Vetta drank obediently, emptying the bitter contents before Danika set the cup aside. The mistress was becoming too weak. It wasn't looking good at all. New tears filled the queen's eyes because she knew. But she kept hugging Vetta to her chest. "You will be fine. You will be fine. You will be fine," she mumbled repeatedly.
"I appreciate that... you're trying to save me...but all this is f-futile. I will d—"
"Don't say that! Don't ever say that!" Tears left Danka's eyes in massive waves because the mistress was indeed dying.
Vetta kept silent, her breathing becoming more shallow. Already, she could feel the numbness of death coming from her legs upwards. "I-I'm sorry...for h-hating you all this while. I-I'm so s-sorry...you didn't deserve it."
"Please, stop talking. Saved your strength, please!" Danika cried.
More tears blurred Vetta's eyes. "Take care of him, Danika." Her voice a mere whisper this time around. "Don't ever h-hurt him. Don't ever...stop loving him. My soul... will haunt you...if you ever leave him."
"No, please." Danika shook her head. "I will never leave him. Ever. You...will not die, but if you do...I want your soul to rest in peace!" she cried in broken sobs. "I want your soul...to have the peace this world...never gave you."
Vetta's breath made soft shuddering sounds of a car about to halt. Yet, she still managed. "If I happen to make it...to a good place—which I doubt so much—I will look after him from up there. I will look after his son too." She paused. "And I'll look after you. You have...to be alive...so that he can keep being...happy. So that his...son will never lack." She smiled wearily. "Yes, I have...to protect you too."
Her words touched Danika deeply, making her cry harder. "Oh, Anarieveta. I'm so sorry."
Vetta's dying heart warmed at those words. Then she buried her face in Danika's blossom and kissed the pregnant woman's chest.
A kiss of forgiveness—a kiss that said goodbye.
"I forgive...you, Danika." Shuddering breaths. "I...forgive you, Your Highness."
With that, her breath evened out. Her body lost all strength.
Danika started screaming. Her pain was intertwined now. The pain of labor and the pains of watching death take Anarieveta away. "No, no, no...please!"
Just then, her door burst open.
King Lucien and Chad hurried inside.
Followed by a crying Baski and a sobbing Sally.
Followed by the royal medicine man and troops of his trainees. So many medicine people.
There were two emergencies.
But they were already too late for one.
.
.