Triplets

“It’s a girl, my love. Doroythe has birthed a girl.” Camilla states. A girl, not the son everyone involved had hoped.

But no one is more upset about it than Dorothye. “Forgive me, Sire. It is not the son I had promised you it would be.”

“It matters not. Dorothye has not birthed an heir but we shall love this child no differently. We will simply have to try again.” You take the baby from Camilla’s arms and gently place her on the bed. The baby is smaller than expected but nothing to indicate prematurity.

Suddenly Dorothye feels a surge of pain coming from her belly. It draws both your and Camilla’s attention. Dorothye’s stomach is still around meaning she still has one more in there. And nearly ten minutes later, another child is brought to the world.

“Another girl,” Camilla announces holding the crying newborn. You look at Dorothye’s belly and see that it is round still. Dorothye labors to birth out one more child. “Oh goodness, it’s a boy!” Camilla shouts.

“Three babies...” you say incredulous at seeing three crying babies laying between their mother's legs, their umbilical cords trailing back inside Dorothye's body, “oh you are indeed a fertile woman, Dorothye. I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t here to see you deliver them.” You kiss Dorothye on the cheek. “You did well, dear one. You did well. You have our utmost thanks.”

“I am glad to have birthed your children and your heir, my King.” Dorothye closes her eyes and rests. You and Camilla tend to the babies and clean the younger two babies. The boy has inherited your blue eyes while the girls inherited Dorothye’s green eyes. The babies are nearly bold with only a few wisps of hair on their little heads. It is hard to determine their hair color. Dorothye’s afterbirth is expelled from her body revealing three placentas.

“If what I was taught is correct,” comments Camilla, “if the twins are non-identical, the number of placentas are the same as the number of babies and there’s three of them.” The umbilical cords are cut and the placentas are disposed. "Look at them, Dorothye," Camilla has a tear dripping from her eye, "testaments to your fertility. You've given my husband and I children."

“What shall we name them?” Camilla asks you. With three babies, you, Camilla and Dorothye each hold one in your arms. Dorothye takes a good look at one of her babies. You decide to name the boy in your arms Arminius, "After my father." You ask Camilla if she has any name to suggest for the girl she's holding. The baby is the eldest among the three. However she doesn't and allows you to name the girls. "I know, we'll call her Boudica."

Camilla raises a brow, "After the warrior Queen of old in Grand Driton?"

You affirm, "Precisely. Now for the younger girl. I propose-"

"Gwyn!" Dorothye cuts you off.

"Excuse me." You say, not at all appreciative of Dorothye speaking over you.

"Forgive me, my King. That was out of turn. I was merely suggesting we name the younger girl Gwyn."

You furrow your brow, "No," you say bluntly, "there has never been any royalty named by that name."

Dorothye holds the baby girl in her arms a little closer, "My King, Camilla, please... let me have this child. I've born your three children. Please let me have this one. Let me raise this child as my own. It would not raise too much suspicion if I am seen with your bastard child. Please, I beg... let me keep this child."

"But what about that merchant boy back in your hometown?" Camilla says.

"What?" You ask. Camilla then explains to you that there is a boy back in Dorothye's town that is in love with her. You don't voice any opinions you may have on the matter. You love Dorothye, care for her, and are grateful to her for what she did. But you aren't that attached to her. If she wants to leave and be with the man she truly loves, you aren't going to stop her as long as she maintains the secret.

"I do not appreciate this being kept from me. But I will let it slide."

"Dorothye, that boy may not take kindly to marrying a woman with a bastard."

"I don't care! I'll end it with him if I must! I'll do it," she looks down at the child in her arms and says with love and affection, "for my baby. I prepared myself to give up my child for my love for sister. But I’ve given birth to three. Please let me have one as my own." She pleads.