My Lady

Flowers bloomed in the gardens even as the last patches of snow continued to cling to the ground. Their subtle scent filled the chill air around the rear palace, blowing in from southern winds that were picking up over the last week. 

The only sign of life aside from me was the guard. A eunuch, he was also the only sort of man allowed this close to my lady. A statue might have moved more, showing no recognition as I passed.

I paused passing through the door, my eyes caught by something in the sky.

A crane.

Pure white, the crane extended its wings over the palace roof tops before it beat once and lifted, grinding to the paving stones below.

An omen. Mother taught me the signs, warned me to be mindful.

My hand nearly drifted to my side, The slight bulge would be nearly impossible to see, but nearly isn’t absolute. I let my hand drop. 

Inside, the scent of life filled the air. Damp with the scent of birth, and bloody. My lady’s daughter was here.

I forced myself to my lady’s side, whispering words into her ear.

A sharp nod follows and I move to stand at the other end of the room. The other ladies cluster around her, maids rushing around the room, flustered and excited. The sounds of the room are alive, and my aim is to keep things that way.

Old blood mixed with new. A daughter born. A crane on the palace roof. 

Prophecies are being fulfilled.

The daughters lungs are strong, drowning out the maids cries of delight as her lungs are cleared. 

The floral scent reaches me, blown in, even as I register the door sliding open. I don’t move, my body relaxed, calm. The appearance of a spring, compressed and ready to launch. Tension all on the inside.

Something’s wrong.

The thought threads through my mind even as the eunuch guard crashes backwards into the room. He rolls, his head tucked underneath him as he positions a hand precisely and forces themselves up. 

The fact that the guard was forced inside tells me everything I need to know. We can’t win this fight.

The women in the room scream. 

Open wings for flight. 

I know what I need to do.

My feet are running even as the eunuch regains theirs, facing the attacker. I don’t look. It doesn’t matter to me who the traitor is, only that I need to get to my lady’s daughter.

Behind me, the flurry of clothes tells me they’ve engaged, but I can’t watch. I can’t let it distract me. 

I shove aside one of the maids guarding the little girl and freeze.

I spin, arm reaching for my side where the bulge is, but a kick to my knee brings me down. I pivot, swiping out with sharpened nails. 

A hand catches my arm and I grunt.

The sound of choking fills the air and my eyes land on my lady, clutching at her throat, as blood pools between her fingers.

My blood turns cold. 

“My lady.”