All children are blessings, but the little girl with the black hair and golden eyes was even more so. The Chosen of Amor, the one sent to destroy the Night King Daemon once and for all, sat on the wooden floor of her room with a little hand in her mouth, and her holy-colored eyes gazing up at Etta with innocent curiosity.

It is true, Etta thought, watching the Princess of Lysandro as she pulled out her now slobbered hand and studied it intently. I have now confirmed it with my own eyes. His Majesty will be pleased.

A slow grin eased onto her face, likely as wicked as her dreams as she pictured the girl much older, her Gifts having manifested. Amor blessed this child to save the world from the encroaching darkness. But if we get our hands on her…

The creak of the door behind her made her straighten quickly, wiping the malice off her face as she turned to spy the Queen of Lysandro gazing lovingly at her daughter. Etta bowed, noting that though Mother and Daughter would not share hair or eye color, the Queen’s pleasant features and charming smile was as if looking into the Orb of Time and seeing the Princess many years ahead.

“Your Majesty.” Etta watched and waited for the Queen to motion for her to cease bowing, and relief came when she did so quickly. The husband made her wait longer.

“Maidservant Etta, is it?” The Queen regarded with little suspicion, her sweet, trusting green eyes watching her as she would any young woman in the Kingdom. But Etta was no young woman, no, she had not been young in many, many years. Though she appeared so outwardly for the time being, she had seen many Kings and Queens in her time.

“Yes, your Majesty,” she responded, maintaining a kind and respectful smile that she knew was all grace after so many years of practice. Oh, if you only knew what I have planned! Her glee was bubbling within her, uncontrollable as if she were an inexperienced dolt like her Sisters.

The Queen smiled before moving towards Aria with open arms. Kneeling gracefully in her long, red and gold gown before the Princess squealed in delight, her toddler legs shakily stepping towards her mother.

Sweeping her up in a loving embrace, the Queen flashed her lovely white smile, twirling around with Aria as if in a dance. They floated towards the window, where the Queen used a free hand to open the shutters and allowing in a fresh breeze carrying an earthy, and sweet smell. The sunlight hit her chestnut hair, making certain strands shine gold in its light. “Oh, my lovely, perfect little girl!” She held up her daughter, who smiled wide in delight.

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The Queen brought her in close, hugging her tightly to her chest and seemed to breathe in the scent of her daughter as she pressed her mouth and nose on Aria’s little black head.

Etta shifted slightly on her feet. She was a patient woman, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t bored out of her mind. It would be some time before she could make her move, and though time was nothing to her, stomaching the sight of such useless affection was going to be the worst of it.

“Oh, was that a tummy growl?” The Queen sighed as if in delight. “Etta, please take Aria down to the kitchens for fruit. Don’t overdo it! She has habit of spoiling her dinner.”

Etta bowed, happily taking the Princess from the Queen, who gave her daughter a loud kiss on the cheek as she pulled away.

The weight of the child rested on Etta’s right arm, and she was thankful that no tantrum accompanied it, having experienced a less than warm welcome earlier that evening. Little brat will learn to love me, and then she will trust me like her own mother.

“Bring her to me after. I will be in the garden with Lady Marlowe.” The Queen waved to the Princess once more before cheerily stepping out of the child’s room.

Etta let out a sigh of relief. She had always heard how kind, and wonderfully happy the Queen was, and it was all true. Annoyingly, obnoxiously true.

She bounced Aria on her arm with many years of practice. It had been quite awhile since she had last held a child so young, but the muscle memory was still there, recalling distant, blurred images of a man chopping wood alongside a beautiful spring, the birds chirping, little legs running through grass and giggles floating through the air…

That’s enough of that. Like slamming a door in a handsome gentleman’s face, she pushed aside the invasive and unwelcome memories. No. Not memories. Another woman, in another time.

A sharp pull on her hair made her yelp. Disgruntled, she looked down at the giggling, joyous face of a little girl, her piercing gold eyes shining with glee and curiosity. Etta allowed herself a smile, and it must not have been the one she practiced for so many years, as the look of mirth upon the child’s face faded away, replaced with one of confusion and slowly-dawning fear.

Then came the tears.

Ah, this shall test my patience, Your Majesty, she thought. The Night King would owe her quite a bit indeed.