23 June, 1349. Magdaline Castle, Islia.
"Push now! Push hard, for the love of Heaven!" the old midwife shouted in Violet's face, showering her with spittle.
Violet flinched in horror but did as she was told, pushing as hard as she could even though her lower body felt like it was being torn to pieces by iron jaws.
The midwives' grim faces surrounded her as they peered down at her body sprawled on the bed. Their slack, wrinkled skin and gaptoothed mouths made them look like a cluster of demons. Coupled with the sweat stinging Violet's eyes and the stifling heat in the bedchamber, it was like a vision of Hell.
Maybe this is Hell, Violet thought wearily. Maybe I've already died and I've been sent to Hell to suffer eternally for all my sins.
She had to admit, a lot of sins had indeed been committed for her to end up where she was now - in the luxurious bedchamber of the Crown Prince of Islia, trying for hours to birth the first grandchild of the Devon royal line.
