Birth in Santeren. Splinter

On a sunny morning, the temple for the unborn saint towered over the kingdom of Ateric, its golden domes sparkling in the rays of the rising sun. The silence of the surrounding forest was filled only with the gentle singing of birds that greeted the new day. The wind whispered softly through the leaves, as if sharing the ancient secrets of the holy places. Every morning began here with prayer and hope that today would be better than yesterday. Believers passed through the temple gates, their faces beaming with grace and prayerful fervor. Solea— fragrant flowers, decorated the paths, filling the air with a sweet scent. The melodies of holy hymns pouring from the windows created an atmosphere of solitude and peace. The people who came here were not simple, but exorcists, confessors, and healers who found solace and inspiration, breaking away from the worries of worldly life. At the top of the hill, where the temple was located, there was a breathtaking view of the reservoirs and forests of Aterik. The mountains in the distance shrouded the kingdom like guardians protecting the peace and prosperity of their people. Legend had it that there used to be a small hut on this hill. In which a healer or a witch lived, she was called differently, she treated terrible ailments and predicted fate. She once divined to a priest traveling around the world that a saint would be born in this kingdom, who might bring prosperity to Aterik, or maybe death. After this prediction, the woman disappeared, and the priest, in tribute to her memory, erected a temple to the future saint in this place. That time seemed to stand still in this place, and everyone could feel the touch of the divine and the dark. "Young master, may I ask?" "What is it?" the minister asked sacredly, escorting the aristocrat. — Of course, Father Svyatoslav. — said the young aristocrat. — There is a rumor in the temple that you will present your miracle to the temple. The young lady or the master. I hope you'll give them to the temple to raise. I hope you will support my opinion, George. — You know, even though I'm a former commoner, it doesn't mean that I won't be able to raise my children. As befits an aristocrat, but for his efforts he managed to earn the title of prince.The young man said, his gaze was like that of a wild beast. "Don't look at me with the eyes of the wicked!" The young gentleman cast an evil glance, turned around, and his movement caused the cloak to fly away as if he were the hero of some book. His steps were confident, proving his might. The carriage arrived at the temple, it was beautiful. Black with golden swirls and the emblem of the principality, a fox in vines. Symbolizing wealth and abundance and magic, sharp mind, resourcefulness and ingenuity. Evening came swiftly in the kingdom, shrouding the world in shadow. Gloomy clouds, like the guardians of a thunderstorm, obscured the firmament. When a horse-drawn carriage gently rolled up to a majestic mansion hiding many secrets. The prince, deep in thought, looked out the window, where raindrops were accumulating, reflecting the storm raging in his heart. His pregnant wife was waiting for him at home, his symbol of tenderness and a new life. In that contradictory moment, when darkness and hope were intertwined, he felt an unknown fear and sweet joy coexist in his soul. The wind howled as if calling him to action, but he remained motionless, contemplating the future that had already begun but was still hidden from his sight. The carriage made a final clatter of wheels on the cobblestones, and time seemed to stand still, listening to his inner voice. Evening enveloped the kingdom, and the anticipation of the changes that would come through eternity sounded in the hearts of the people. "Welcome, Prince. — said the butler, opening the carriage door. Holding an umbrella already open over his master. Nodding his thanks, he went inside the mansion, where he was met by the head maid, the seneschal, and the mistress of the mansion, a young, beautiful, elegant lady. Standing, in a white nightgown with a knitted shawl over it. The prince, noticing his wife, immediately ran up to her. There was happiness in his eyes, and he scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to their room. — How did you spend the evening, my love? Georgy was saying, giving her a light kiss on the forehead. — I went to the Berpenskaya salon, her due date is coming soon too. — Good news. — Do you know who will be born to them? — She said, smiling. "Who?" — Timur Berpensky. And what will we call our baby? — First we'll call a doctor, and then we'll figure it out. — I know for sure that we will have a daughter. That's why I don't need a doctor, otherwise he'll do something bad to our baby. The man sighed and smiled affectionately. He knew that Maria did not like doctors because of their evil language. The seneschal is the master's right—hand man. —Oh, Maria.Your health and the health of our baby are important to me. — George said, stroking his wife's stomach. "Sleep, honey. I'll go sort out the papers. — Good job. Maria said, and ruffled her husband's red hair. Quietly slamming the massive door of the room, the man walked down a long dark corridor. Accompanied by a single wax candle, giving a barely noticeable light. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway of the mansion. His gaze went to the window, where a thunderstorm was raging. A strong wind blew the branches of a young oak tree, and the thunder rumbled as if telling its story. — David, give me the latest budget report on the estate. — said the prince, going into the spacious study. —Yes, Your Excellency." The prince walked over to the large oak table, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. After running his eyes over, he stopped at the wooden fox. It was made by his father... as a fifth-year gift. Back then, he was still a village boy who already knew all the rottenness of this world. Already at the age of four, he learned to steal, was cunning and not only that. It was only his aristocratic gift that got him out of this mess, but his father died too late. The little boy was raised by the king's younger brother, who was still very young himself. The Duke was attracted not only by his gift, but also by the quality of his spirit. He raised a seven-year-old boy like his own son, without depriving him of anything. He taught him etiquette, literacy, everything that was required in high society. George's green eyes turned golden. — Your Excellency, control yourself, your gift is getting the better of your feelings. David said, approaching his master. "Damn it." George's eyes still haven't returned to normal. Therefore, he decided to use an exorcism to calm his talent. When he saw the target David had brought, he took the bow. He created a long, sharp-tipped arrow from the exorcism, pulling the bowstring, George shot hitting the bull's-eye. The eyes returned to their true dark green hue. David, as always, praised his master.: "Your Excellency, you are simply magnificent. "David, don't flatter me. — he said, putting the bow back in its place. — Before I forget, prepare an invitation to a tea party at the sixth *, and arrange according to the list what you need to order from the merchants. - OK. Invitations on behalf of Mrs. Maria or from yours too? — No, although if you think about it, write from both of us. "Roger that." shestok*—Saturday The next 3 days flew by unnoticed, the mansion was preparing for the upcoming event. Princess Maria, being pregnant, controlled that everything was perfect. She personally chose flowers to decorate the tables, ordered the delivery of the best dishes, and made sure that every chair in the greenhouse was soft and comfortable. Every morning, she gave herself confidence, although sometimes she felt tired. The servants fussed around endlessly, following her strict instructions. This time, she wanted the event to take place in an atmosphere of magic, so that not a single detail escaped her attention. The enchanting sounds of the string quartet were to be played during the dinner, and the guests were to be amazed by the splendor of the decoration. In the evening, when it began to get dark outside the windows, the princess sat on the balcony, overcome with anticipation of tea. The moonlight softly illuminated her rounded belly, and she dreamed of how her child would walk around the same mansion in the future. With happy thoughts about the future, Maria realized that everything she was doing was for the happiness of her family. And so the day of the tea party came, the princess entered the greenhouse. She inspected her estates, which she and her subordinates had created together. And she smiled happily at the passing servants. — Well, Maria, it's time to greet the guests. She said softly to herself. — Everyone to your places! — Maria. — a lady called out to her, coming towards her in a position. "Grace." I'm so glad to see you. — And how glad I am, I decorated the tea party perfectly. How is your miracle?— she said, touching her friend's stomach. — She's kicking, she's going to take after her father anyway. — she said with a smile, stroking her stomach. "She?" You will have a daughter, Lord, the Saint has blessed our children. — Yes, I feel it with all my heart. But, George, he insists on a doctor. — My dear, he wants the best for you. I'll send you my doctor next week, without any buts. The ladies set off, to the guests who had arrived, who were already waiting for the culprit of the tea party. At the same time, they greeted them, with a bow, the statuesque ladies: — Greetings, Princess Langrang and Duchess of Berpen. The tea party went on calmly, the wives of the aristocrats discussed various topics: politics, children, the affairs of the kingdom. There were even those who condemned the prince for his non-aristocratic origin. The princess did not pay attention to their conversations, but she could barely restrain herself from being harsh towards them. "Get a grip on yourself. Grace said, soothing Maria. The guests began to disperse, thanking the princess for the warm welcome. Many carriages arrived at the large estate. And everyone left with a smile on their face. "You did your best." George said, putting his arm around his wife's waist. "I know." "Let's go inside." — he said, gently pushing her. — Kaner, show the guests out. — he turned to the butler standing next to him. —Very well, sir. Maria was sitting by the window in her room, reading a book, turning the pages lightly. Her face was thoughtful, and her glasses were slipping off her face. So she adjusted her glasses with her index finger. —mon amour est infini," she uttered the hero's phrase. She was admiring, so she didn't notice her husband coming in. A man entered the room from the bathroom. His body was covered with fine droplets of water, and a dark robe clung to his muscular body. He decided not to distract his wife from her book, so he quietly sat down next to her in the next chair. mon amour est infini* — my love is endless. Georgy studied her, propping his face on his hand. He admired her, but his heart was not at ease. As if something was going to happen. He was lost in thought, sitting with his eyes closed. Maria looked up from her book and looked at her husband sitting next to her, as if he had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position. —Grigory..." she called to him in a whisper. The man opened his eyes and looked lovingly at his wife, trying not to show his excitement. At this time, Maria screamed loudly, in pain: — Gregory! Call my maid and let her get ready for the birth. **** Grigory and David were standing outside the bedroom door. Time seemed to drag on endlessly for them. Unable to find a place for himself, he constantly asked David: — David, is she really okay?Is everything alright? I'm worried about Maria and the baby. George did not close his eyes until the morning, he was sitting on the spacious windowsill, and waiting for the maid to leave the room. Maria's labor was difficult, and it was only by noon that the man heard a child crying loudly. The maid invited her master into the room, where Maria was already waiting for him with the baby in her arms. There was joy in her tortured eyes. Maria was pale and weak. George hurriedly went to the bed and bent over them, examining his little miracle. — Darling, this is our daughter. — She said with a smile. "How charming she is, and she looks so much like you." Especially with those eyes as clear as the sky. "What name should we give her, my love?"— George asked a question. "Levian is like a winter flower that blooms every few years. — she said with a smile, looking at her newborn daughter.