It had been weeks since princess Aemma’s labour, and the weight of the nursery walls, her chamber, and the maids’ constant attention had begun to press on her spirit. Despite her ladies-in-waiting’s pleading, Aemma stood by the window, looking out onto the gardens below. The sun was high, the breeze soft, and the earth beneath the castle walls seemed to call her.

"I must get some air," she murmured to herself, more a quiet thought than a command.

She stood from the bed, careful to avoid any motion too sudden, and with a delicate but firm gesture, she dismissed her ladies-in-waiting. "I will only be a moment. I need it, truly," Aemma said with a soft smile, her violet eyes gentle but resolute.

Her handmaiden hesitated, clearly torn between loyalty and fear, before nodding. She stepped back reluctantly. "I must inform the prince," she said, retreating from the room.

Aemma only nodded, gliding to the door. The cool breeze greeted her as she stepped out, her long, pale gown flowing behind her as she made her way down the stone corridor to the outer garden. With every step, she felt more like herself, the fresh air breathing life back into her tired soul.

As she entered the garden, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply, almost forgetting the battle that was her labour.