Ten years ago, the smallest country in Doroveya Continent sent their thirteen-year-old princess to the Amari Kingdom alongside their yearly tribute to keep the peace between the two countries. The young Luna Elicid Alanis y Maoridom then wed the thirty-seven-year-old Damaris King, Adrian Benedictus Gracia y Lazuli. Ten years and she has yet to give birth to a child. No conspiracy happened; it is only because she was unable to up until nine months prior to this day.
It was a typical night for King Adrian; he had just come back from his royal duties and planned to spend a night with Concubine Luna. Nothing suspicious transpired; nothing out of the ordinary happened. The moment he entered the room, he snatched the Concubine’s hand as usual and kissed her passionately, sucked her lips, and battled her tongue for dominance. He won, just like the other times. The woman moaned in his embrace, and he got excited. He didn’t wait any longer and tore his wife’s nightgown right there and then. He carried her back to her bed, not breaking the kiss as saliva drooled down their chins and unto her bare bosoms.
As his penis pushed into her vagina, heavy rain started to pour on all Damaris land. But the two didn’t notice the loud banging on the veranda as the strong wind and raindrops hit the windows and doors, as well the splatter of water on the castle grounds; they were busy succumbing to hunger and lust. Cries that had not been heard for generations suddenly echoed throughout the land, awakening everyone from their slumber. Sprouts of the mythical flower popped up from the ground of the Royal Garden.
Morning came, and what happened during their lovemaking was reported to the King. He immediately ordered his vassals to investigate the matter and to report back to him, but no one knew why the phenomena happened and what caused them. All the Damaris people panicked and frequented Bergamota temples asking for forgiveness — everyone suddenly remembered and confessed to all their sins, as they promised not to do them again. Nobles were on edge, afraid that the curse had already reached its final stage and would finally end the long history of Damaris’ blood. Neighboring kingdoms started to plan for actions — awaiting confirmation of how the phenomena would benefit them.
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Every day, whenever the clock struck twelve, the unfamiliar raspy cries from the unknown creature are heard throughout the land. Little by little, it started to become part of people’s daily lives. The cries got louder, and a never-before-seen kind of mystical flower budded inside the Royal Garden as days went by. Rain also frequently fell from the sky — a jinx from some, a blessing for others.
The Royal Castle became busier than ever, the people having no clue what was happening. However, the Galagaian Princess became nauseous six weeks after King Adrian visited her residence. Everyone stopped their search and concluded what was actually happening — the prophecy.
“The moon is shy — only shows her full self once in a while.
But fret not, as when she takes shape, everyone will sigh,
The Hope of the Kingdom will appear, as Kismet sheds tears.”
Everyone refocused their attention and worked hard to welcome the answer to the generations-long ordeal of the kingdom. Flowers were cultivated. Raw meats and other ingredients were bought and reserved. Boutiques, ateliers, jewelry shops, and other stores got booked in advance. Everyone knew, a celebration would be held thirty-six weeks from that day.
They were right.
A week before the full moon, heavy rains poured down on the whole country.
Two days later, Janome birds that people only saw in history books roamed the city sky, and the Neverendin flower opened their petals.
And on the day the moon showed its full glory, Concubine Luna went into labor.