The inside of the house was warm and cozy. The fire was burning low in the hearth, but the heat of it still filled the room. It rubbed and purred over Matthew’s skin like an affectionate cat, and settled deep into his bones, where it relaxed his body even further. He was incredibly drowsy, but he knew it was almost time that he should get up and go home. It was late. Very late. He didn’t even know what time it was at all, in fact.


But loosing track of time was just a side effect of visiting with Ethelyn. They just got so wrapped up in talking that neither one of them could ever seem to figure out where all the time went. Ethelyn’s husband was a fisher, so he was often gone out to sea, and she was often lonely for adult ears to talk to. Matthew, too, was frequently lonely, even though he didn’t know why since his wife talked enough for both of them put together.

Maybe that was why after all. Sometimes Matthew just didn’t like to talk. He liked to sit quietly down and not talk at all. Talking always interrupted whatever it was he was always trying to find when he sat down to … not talk. When it was quiet like that, he felt like he was close to finding something special. Something that not too many people knew about. He’d be so close to finding it and then Mathilde would talk and ruin it. The whatever-it-was he was about to discover would just fly right away from his outstretched hand like a frightened bird flying for freedom.


Things were different with Ethel, though. He could sit and not talk with her or, if he preferred, he could sit and talk with her. For some reason, he always seemed to prefer the talking with Ethel instead of the not talking. Maybe it was because he never talked to anybody but her and so he always had so much to tell her. He didn’t know, but it just felt nice to be around someone who understood him.

They were sitting together now, on her wooden bench before the fire, watching it dance in the hearth. She sighed. “Matthew, why do you think you ever did marry Mathilde? I’m sorry to ask,” she blushed. “It’s just with all what you’ve been saying tonight, sometimes I wonder why you got together at all.” She saw the expression on his face and apologized in her gentle, sweet voice. “I’m sorry Matthew. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”


He looked slowly over at her. “Well, she came right after Jesca died, you know.” He explained even as his heart broke internally. It still hurt thinking about his first wife, Jesca, who had died before he had even really got the chance to know her. He had just seen her and fell in love one day when they were both 17. A few months later they had been married. It hadn’t taken much to convince her pa to let her marry him. Now Matthew regretted it. If he never would have married her, she never would have died giving birth to his child, a daughter, he’d named Joan, who died only a few short weeks later.

His voice croaked, but he continued explaining to Ethel. “Everyone knew how bad I was hurting when Jesca died, and I needed help with the baby. Mathilde came over to help me out one day, and somehow, she just never left…” He sighed. He did love his wife. She was as dependable and strong a woman as he had ever known. If only she were a little bit less talkative…


“Thank you for telling me, Matthew,” Ethel whispered. “I was just trying to understand some things.”

He pushed himself up. “I suppose it’s time for me to get going, anyways, Ethel.”


“Yes, I suppose it is, Matthew. It was right nice having you come over tonight. I always do enjoy having our little talks. Bertram doesn’t like to hear much about my garden or my plants, it’s nice of you to always lend an ear.”

“Anytime, Ethel,” he sighed as he made it to the door. As he opened it, the freezing air rushed all around him, pulling off all of the warmth he’d accumulated in Ethel’s cottage. It was very regretfully that he shut the door and the little warm fire behind him as he trudged out into the icy night back to his own home.

It was a very hesitant knock that Mathilde heard on her door as Kathrope Millhead gently tapped on the wooden frame. Sighing heavily at the intrusion that prevented her from sharing her gossip with Ethel, she lifted her heavy body off the ground and plodded towards the door.


“But no! Let me!” cried Ethel in that saccharine voice she had. Mathilde hated how soft-spoken the other woman was. If it weren’t for the fact that Ethelyn’s cottage was so close down the road, she doubted that they would have ever been friends. She liked boldness in her acquaintances, not meekness, and boldness Ethelyn did not have. Of course, neither did her husband and she had chosen him, deliberately put him into her life. That didn’t make sense.


She opened the door. “Come in, Kathrope,” she said politely, though her voice was a little strained, considering the squirming bundle that Kathrope held in her hands and supported on her hip.

“I see you’ve brought Gully,” Kathrope said through pursed lips. She did not like Kathrope's strange child.

“I know, Mathilde, I’m sorry!” she apologized. “I was just looking for Ethelyn and her boys said that she’d come over here. Cammina is in some sort of pain, Ethelyn, she thinks she might loose the baby, but it don’t hurt her too bad yet, so we’re not too worried. But could you come see about her?”


Even though she said that she was not worried, it was easy to tell that the situation with her daughter had her quite flustered. There had been quite a lot of bad things said about the Millhead family lately, what with their oldest daughter getting pregnant and shaming the family. Mathilde ought to know all about what people were saying, especially since she was the one saying the most.

“Well you ought to have watched her more carefully, Kathrope!” she lectured.

Kathrope turned toward her, “What are you talking about, Mathilde?”

Mathilde laughed. “Probably everything. You should have watched your oldest daughter more closely and not let her become some slut. You should have watched her better when she got pregnant to make sure she didn’t hurt the baby, and then maybe she wouldn’t be miscarrying right now. Probably you did something stupid yourself though when you were pregnant with that thing! I don’t see why else she’d turn out like that.”

Mathilde watched as Kathrope clutched her child more tightly to her chest. “Mind your own business Mathilde,” Kathrope growled.

Mathilde laughed. “Now that’s why I do like you, Kathrope. You aren’t afraid to stand up for yourself. Well… except against your husband, I mean.”


This time it was Ethelyn who glared at her. “What has gotten into you, Mathilde?” she cried. “Leave the poor woman alone, now! She has got enough worries without you making them worse.” She frowned and then sighed as her voice trembled. “This isn’t like you at all," she said as she followed Kathrope out the door.


It truly wasn’t like her... But she kind of liked it… Asserting her opinions… Making things interesting. Life did tend to be incredibly dull when one was stuck at home all day with no one to talk to but children and a man who preferred to sit by himself and not talk! And anyways, the tone in Ethelyn's voice had been priceless! Such melodramatic heartbreak! She snorted as she lowered her heavy body onto the couch.

Awwww, I really like Perri! She's adorable! And is it just me or does Mathilde really resemble one of the witches? Wonderful to read this as always, and to you I say update again soon and happy simsing!

HAH! Yeah she does resemble the witch! I didn't notice that but maybe that's why I keep making her so act mean...x_X I think I'll change her hair now... hmm.

I loooove Perri,too! She's just so cute! So she's gonna get lots and lots of screen time in this story ^_^

Anyways, thanks for reading/commenting/actually liking it and all that jazz

“It’s mah birthday! It’s mah birthday!” Perrigwen hollered as she raced around the room with Ellynmere. “I’m finally ten years old!”

Ellyn stopped running to laugh at her. “It hardly makes a difference, you know!”

“What do you mean?” Perri glared.

“You’re only one day older than you were yesterday,” Ellyn rationed. “I know. I just had my tenth birthday a few weeks ago. And I didn’t feel any different at all, even though I had two numbers in my age. Do you?”


Perrigwen concentrated on herself. She didn’t feel smarter. She didn’t feel taller. She was, indeed, unchanged. “Well damn! Ellyn! Ruin it for me!” she cried, although she was thrilled at the opportunity to be able to showoff her curse words in front of her friend.


“You’re not sposed to say that, Perri,” Ellyn warned, although she didn’t look as impressed as Perri had hoped.

“Why not? It’s just a word!” Perri pouted. “Words aren’t bad!”

“It’s just not lady-like,” Ellyn persisted.

“Well Rose says it all the time!” Perri countered. “And she’s a real lady, too! So if me and Rose are both ladies, and we say damn… or worse! It must be lady-like! So there!”

“Oh pleeeeease Perri! Using grown-up words doesn’t make you a grown-up! You are so silly!” Ellen drawled.


“Well, you know that I am engaged,” Perri said, drawing out the last word imperiously.

“What does that prove?” asked Ellyn. “All it means is that you have to marry some boy who told you that your hair looks like tomatoes. Doesn’t sound very pleasant at all to me…”

Perri huffed, but she had no argument.

“That’s what I thought,” she asserted. “I do like Ioreck, though,” she confided. “I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because he is an evil stupid boy, that’s why!”


“He’s not evil,” Ellynmere sighed with the wisdom of an old woman, “you’re just too sensitive. So what if he thinks your hair looks like someone ate carrots and tomatoes and puked them all out over your head? He’s just teasing.”

“Puked them out over my head!” Perri cried. “When did he say that!”

“It’s just an example, so stay with me here. What I’m saying is don’t be such a baby about it when he teases you. It’s just what boys do. They don’t mean nothing by it.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Perri whined. “Everybody likes you! I bet Ioreck never teases you!”


“Of course he does, don’t be silly,” she said, exasperated. “I am just smart enough to know not to take him seriously.”

Perri rolled her eyes at her friend. “This being betrothed stuff isn’t as romantic as I thought.”

“Sure it is,” Ellyn soothed. “You can be like the princess who turns the wild knight good!”

Perri thought it over. “That could work. Ioreck does seem wild, don’t you think?” she said excitedly. “And I could be the one to bring out his good side! That’d be sooo romantic!” she swooned.

Ellyn tapped her finger to her lip, thinking. “I don’t know though, cause the princess has to be nice.”

“What!?” Perri roared. “I’m nice!”


“Sure, sure, but you have such a temper!”

Perrigwen took a moment to assess herself. Ok… maybe she might have a slight temper problem. But it was easier to take it out on Ellyn than to try to fix the problem so she huffed “What do you care about romance for, anyways? You never cared nothing about it before!”

Ellyn sighed. “I don’t care now,” she said. “I was only mentioning it since you seem to care about it soooo soooo much. I think its silly to go chasing after boys!”

“Oh Ellyn, you are such a child,” Perri said exasperated. “You need to mature a lot.”

“Maybe you need to mature a lot, Perri,” Ellyn sagely cautioned. “You just seem even younger when you try to act like a grown up lady.”

Perrigwen glared at her friend, confident in the knowledge that she was utterly wrong about who was more mature than whom. “Whatever, let’s go get some cake for my birthday,” she said to end the conversation.

You're very welcome! And thank YOU for writing an excellent story! I imagine that its a lotmore work for you to write something this good than for me to enjoy it.

And there's no connection between Mathilde and the witches? i was so convinced that she and Aethelis (is that her name? the other peasant-seeming one, blonde, i don't think it was Aethelis actually but whoever's name it was escapes me) were actually the witches.

Congratulations on twenty chapters, update soon, and happy simsing!

Yeah, Aethelis is her name but they are not witches.Mathilde is just a bitch, not a witch. (ha ha ha, I'm so corny I just crack myself up!) Good theory though. I should have thought of something like that! Oh well, there is some important stuff up with the witches and that kid though, but it will probably be a while before all is revealed... *cue mysterious music*

A scream ripped through the air. Matthew’s heart pounded as he followed the sound. He ran out of his daughters’ playroom at a gallop, but time seemed to be standing still. Mathilde was screaming and the sound was like nothing he had ever heard before. It ripped through the air, piercing through his flesh, piercing through his heart and soul, ripping his insides the way no blade ever could. He had never heard a more terrifying scream. It was like the shriek of an animal dying, not a human sound.


“The baby!” Mathilde managed to wail. He needed no further explanation. He grabbed her off of her feet before she could collapse on the floor and hauled her as gently and as quickly as he could manage over to their bed.


Her shift was wet and warm and he did not even need to look at his hands to see that they were dripping with her blood. He yelled for his oldest daughter.



“Clothide go get Ethel now!” he yelled. He saw the panic in his daughter’s eyes, but she raced away anyways, tearing out of the cottage door without even bothering to grab her cloak.


Mathilde wailed as she squirmed on the bed. She could not even force words to come out of her parted lips. He looked frantically around the room, wondering what he could do to help. It was so like the scene he had witnessed eight years ago, when his first wife had lain shrieking on the bed. But even her screams had not contained the piercing power that Mathilde’s now did. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, and all that he could do was wait.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, letting blood red light spill in through the windows. Matthew sat, face buried in his calloused hands. He couldn’t think straight. It had been hours and hours since Ethelyn had arrived. As soon as she’d taken a look at Mathilde, she had sent him immediately off to fetch some more ladies to help. They wouldn’t let him into the room where she lie on the bed, drowning in pain and blood. He knew no more about what was happening in that room than her screams could tell him.


She had been silent for a long time. What was happening? Had she already died, the same way the Jesca had? Silently and slowly, as her body just gave out from the strain? Or had she died in one violent instant, filled with all the accumulative pain of all of those hours she spent tossing and screaming on the bed?

The door creaked open. Ethel slid out. “Matthew,” she said quietly, holding up her hand to stop the flood of anxious questions that had risen to his mouth the moment he had risen to his feet. “She lives.”

“And the baby?”


She smiled. “Babies,” she corrected. “Twin girls, both healthy and strong. But Matthew I have to tell you something…”

But he wasn’t listening. In a moment that passed as quickly as lightening, flashing through the sky, relief and happiness poured into the soul that Matthew thought had been drained empty of life. The world grew suddenly sharper and more beautiful. The light that he had only earlier named as blood colored, he now saw as rose. It fell upon Ethel’s face, curving over the blossom of her soft cheeks, illuminating the delicate skin that he imagined would feel as soft as a rose petal.


He grabbed her and pressed his lips to hers, molding his to fit the soft mounds of her lips. Overflowing with happiness, his mouth searched hers, planting kiss after kiss onto her warm skin.

It had ended before Ethelyn could even begin to think about what had happened. Matthew looked at her, obviously embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, Ethel,” he said, his voice soft and deep, sliding through the space between them. His voice felt like cool water on her skin, washing away the heat of the blush that had stolen over her features. “I’m just so happy!” he grinned, no longer looking apologetic. “May I see her now?”


“Yes… go ahead in,” she finally replied. She sat down on the bench he had occupied just moments before. She was tormented. She had done nothing wrong, so why was she being punished? Until thirty seconds ago, she had thought herself to be happily married. And now, now she knew that she was not. Her husband was a good man, a solid man, who loved her and respected her. What had happened to so suddenly make her believe that she had wanted to be in Matthew’s arms and not her husband’s?


She felt close to tears, confused and upset. And Matthew! He had just left, as if nothing had happened, leaving her to deal with the emotional rebuttal. She let the darkness of twilight wash over her. The warmth of the sunlight soon faded from the room, but she lit no candles. Instead she got up and walked out, just in time to hear Matthew call out her name.

She pretended not to hear as she left the warm house walked out into the chilly twilight.

“I’m ready to retire, Kaiser,” Alverstine said quietly to her king. He only grunted at her and then turned back to his conversation.

She didn't know why she had expected more of a reply. Of course he didn’t pay any attention to her! He was busy talking to that ever-present redheaded vixen, Elissa. She was always, always present at the castle, and always flirting with Alverstine’s new husband. Kaiser said that she was “only his cousin,” but Alverstine was no fool. No one spent that much time with another person out of sheer family duty.

She glared at him, but he didn’t notice that, either. She turned to Rose. “I would like to retire now.”


Rose tore her eyes away from Albert, who was amusing everyone with another one of his debaucheries: a tale of how he had met some peasant girl one night and this and this ensued and thus and thus happened. Alverstine did not find such stories particularly amusing. Rose did, however, so Alverstine was grateful that she looked over.


"Is something wrong?" she asked.

“I’m not feeling well, Rose,” she explained, hoping that Rose would ask her why.

But Rose only nodded and they both rose from their seats and left the room, after giving their goodnights to everyone else.


After they had left the crowded room, Rose snorted. “Does your not feeling well have anything to do with his majesty’s rather vivacious ‘only a cousin’?”

“Well she doesn’t help matters much,” Alverstine sulked. “But I haven’t felt well at all today, or yesterday either.” She waited but Rose still didn't catch on as to why.

“If it makes you feel better, the poor man is oblivious to her,” Rose said. “He honestly doesn’t realize what she’s trying to do.”


“I don’t think I even know what she’s trying to do!” Alverstine huffed. “He is already married to me. What can she hope to get out of him?”

Rose cleared her throat and grinned. “Well there are plenty of other services a man might provide," she suggested.

Alverstine frowned. “Well as he’s my husband, those services should be exclusively provided for me.”


“Be that as it may, my dearie, it won’t stop some women from looking.”

Alverstine snorted. “Some women! You’re one of those women!”

Rose grinned wolfishly. “But never would I be looking for it from your husband, dear!”


“Let us hope not,” Alverstine said with a wry smile. “She is enough of a problem for me. I don’t need to have to watch you, too.”

“You already watch me,” Rose pointed. “You’re always trying to make sure I don’t get myself into trouble!”

“Well someone certainly has to do it,” Alverstine sighed. “Heaven knows what kind of trouble you’d be into by now if you hadn’t had me to watch over your whole life.”

“I know, dearie, I know. ‘Tis your own sweet self that has saved me from far too many predicaments as it is.” She stopped, hugging Alverstine warmly. “And I do thank you for it.”

“I only wish I could have saved you from this,” she said, patting Rose’s bulging belly.


Rose laughed. “Think that was an accident, do you dearie?”

This time it was Alverstine who stopped in her tracks. “You didn’t!”

“I’m a big girl, love, and none too stupid. I knew what I was doing.”

Alverstine rubbed her forehead. “Apparently I should have been watching you a bit more closely.”

“Oh don’t worry. I got everything I wanted…”

Alverstine chocked. “I’m sorry! I can’t,” and with that she clapped a hand over her mouth and ran down the hall, towards the washroom.


Rose ran after her. “Problems, dear?”

Alverstine couldn’t reply as she was busy vomiting over a basin.

After she felt better, Rose helped her wash off with a damp cloth and sent her off to bed. Even though her husband was downstairs, still laughing and joking and flirting with Elissa, Alverstine was ecstatic. Now she was sure she was pregnant! Pleasant thoughts wrapped around her like a blanket as she quickly fell asleep.

Oh good! Wasn't the king worried about getting an heir? Nice that she's preggers then.
And poor Ethylyn, that would be so awkward. Really curious to see where you go with that.
And babies! Awwwwww, pics plz?
So yep, update soon and happy simsing!

As she slowly woke, Aethelis instinctively knew that something horrible had happened. Her heart ached with a fierce intensity, each dull beat of it carving more of a hollow into her heavy chest. Her face was stiff with the feeling of tears that had dried without being wiped away. The salt of them still clung to the corners of her mouth. And though she couldn’t remember why, her eyes once again brimmed, burning with the saline liquid of tears that had already seared at her burning skin.

In a rush, she remembered and the weight of her sorrow crashed even more heavily onto her already crushed chest. The baby was dead. Stillborn. After so many miscarriages, she had dared to hope that this time would be different. For nine months, she had been carrying a child, praying for it to live, going on each day with a bit more hope and a bit more hope. For nine months she had carried a child, while her hope, like her stomach had grown everyday… grown and flourished until it became a mountain of dreams. And only then, when it had reached the pinnacle of faith, had it all come falling down on her, piece by ragged, stony piece.


Aethelis had been married for twelve years. In that time, she had born 2 children. One who lived, one who died. She had lost another three to miscarriages and now one she had born one already dead.

She had known that something was wrong days before. She had been going all day about her normal business, washing and folding linens, sweeping the floor, preparing meals… And then suddenly, she had noticed that there had been no movement at all inside of her stomach. The usual sensation of her baby moving and kicking had suddenly disappeared without warning. She didn’t tell a soul that day, even though her heart was racing in a nervous unsteady gallop, sending blood to pound thick and heavy through her veins. She had still dared to hope that everything would turn out to be ok…

The next day, when the contractions had started, she had felt a surge of relief, even through the blinding razor sharp pain. The baby was coming, after all. She had gone through labor calmly, almost peacefully until she had seen the faces of the midwife after it was over. She knew. She knew by the faces of the women who crowded into the room. They had been overcome by sympathy, by grief. Many of them had experienced the same thing.


She knew and in that instant, the grief had suffocated her. She had chocked out racking sobs until her weakened body had quaked uncontrollably. Now she was too tired to cry any longer. Her heart was broken.

In the next room, she could hear the sniffles of her only living child. Poor Ellyn, who cried whenever anyone else around her did! She was so sympathetic to those in need… So sweet and gentle and generous… Aethelis didn’t know why she had need anyone else when she had her darling little Ellyn. She was so silly to be crying in bed, wrapped up in her own pain when her wee little daughter was suffering too! And yet, somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Aethelis felt empty of anything but pain. She couldn't yet face the day, nor the cruel light of dawn, so she pulled the coverlet back over her head, alone with her sorrow.

“Ethel!” his voice rang out, clear across the grounds, washing into her ears like a silken wave of water. Clear and cool, it washed over her, enveloping her heart and soul. She could not help but to turn around as her heart hammered wildly. She had avoided him for so long! It had been almost two months since the birth of his daughters and the last time that she had seen him.

Not that he hadn’t tried to see her! He’d come hammering on her door many a day since the eve when she’d delivered his babies, and she’d always send her littlest son, Bertie, out to him to say “Ma has a headache, so she can’t see you today,” or some other such lies. Ethel hated lying, but what was she to do? She couldn’t trust herself around him anymore at all! Such thoughts she had of him late at night when she was curled up against her own husband’s side!

She felt traitorous and vile for thinking such things of the man who she had considered to be her only true friend. She felt an that she was an evil adulteress almost everyday, knowing how she longed to turn away from her own husband’s loving arms to be swept into Matthew’s!


A furious blush had stolen into her cheeks as he hesitantly approached her. She bit her lip and looked up at him, distressed. What would she say? Sorry I’ve been avoiding you Matthew. I fear that you may tempt me to sin against my husband? Clearly that wasn’t the appropriate thing to say!

But thankfully he spoke first, alleviating her distress after a long moment of silence, in which they each looked at each while pretending not to look too hard.


“I’ve missed you Ethel….”

“I’ve missed you, too, Matthew,” she said. And then she could not help herself. A shy smile stole across her face like a rainbow sliding out from behind grey clouds.


“Before you say anything else, Ethel, I want to apologize to you,” he said. His voice was warm and sincere, shining like the sun on her face. “I know that you haven’t been ill all this time,” he continued, “and I know that it’s my own fault that you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Oh now, Matthew, I’ve just been…”


“No, Ethel, don’t lie. I know what happened. I know how awkward I made you feel, and I am sorry. I never meant to hurt our friendship. You’re the last person in the world that I would want to hurt,” he said gently, quietly, “and you’re one of the most important people in the world to me…”

Her heart thudded in her chest at the words and a wave of warmth spread all through her body, radiating outward from her pounding heart.

He stepped closer to her, so close that she could breathe in the scent of him, warm, strong, and fresh: the smell of cedar and pine and earth. Involuntarily, she lowered her lids, drawing the smell of him deep into her breast.

“So I don’t want you to think that I meant anything at all by kissing you.”

Her heart skidded to a halt.


“I was just so happy, Ethel, and you were there, and… my heart just overflowed, I guess… But I would never, ever think of you like that,” he stammered in his earnestness. “I just wanted you to know that, and that I am sorry for making you feel so uncomfortable.”

She sputtered out some sort of response to him while she inwardly yelled at herself, hating how her body seemed to be reacting without her input, ignoring the screaming of her mind. What was she doing? What was she hoping for? She had no idea…

“And anyways, Ethel, why don’t you come round to the house sometime now that we’ve made up?” he continued, innocently oblivious to all of her inner turmoil. “You haven’t seen the twins since they were born!” he smiled. “They’re getting so big! I’d really like you to come by sometime. And bring your family if you want. Mathilde and the girls are getting lonely for some company…”

She nodded at him, her movements brief and jerky. Why couldn’t she say no to this man?

Wow... That was rather jerk-y/oblivious making of him. Does he actually not love her, or did he just mean his words at face value- he didn't mean anything at the time? Interesting development either way. So yep, update soon and happy simsing!

I think that he is just oblivious to it all. I think he does love her, though. He just doesn't realize it yet and he doesn't see how unhappy he is with his wife or that Ethelyn loves him, too! He's just a ditz...

Thanks as always for the comments! I always look forward to seeing what you have to say.

Matthew rose from his chair as his oldest daughter, Clothide, opened the door to let in Ethel and her family. He smiled shyly at Ethel and went over to meet her and her husband, Bertram, with whom he was also friends, while Clothide took Bertie and Effie, Ethel's youngest children, into the other room to play.


“Ethel, Bertram, I’m so glad you could make it,” Mathilde smiled at them. For once, Matthew had the feeling that she was actually being sincere about wanting to see Ethelyn, who she thought was too meek to be interesting, and Bertram, who annoyed her with his loud sense of humor and booming voice. Ever since she had given birth, Mathilde had been trapped in their cottage, recovering in confinement, so it seemed natural to Matthew that she had wanted to see some friends.

In fact, if Mathilde had not wanted company so badly, Matthew would not ever have pressured Ethel at all to come visit. It was clear that she still felt very awkward around him, and the thought pained him more than anything else ever could. He had never wanted to hurt her so, and cursed himself for his foolish actions. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, but Mathilde had been pestering him for the visit, so he had given in to his wife, at the expense of sweet Ethelyn.


If it had been up to Matthew, he would have waited a bit and let Ethel come around when she was ready and recovered from the embarrassment that he had caused her. He still didn’t know what he had been thinking the day that he had kissed Ethel, but he understood her feelings well enough. Obviously, she felt that he had some sort of inappropriate feelings towards her that she couldn’t reciprocate. When he thought of her confusion and how it was his fault, it further shamed his spirit so that he felt like the world’s largest braying ass.

But there was nothing to be done about it, but to smile and bear it all. Maybe by the end of the night, she would have warmed back up to him and things would be back to normal, or maybe not. But either way, there was very little that he could do about it.

He tuned back into the conversation, realizing that he had not been listening to whatever Bertram had been saying, when Mathilde called his name. “Matthew, run and go get the babies,” she commanded. “I want Ethel and Bertram to meet our new little ladies!”


“Here they are: Brigita and Beatrix,” she proudly announced as he obligingly fetched his children from their crib and brought them out to be cooed and awed over. Mathilde took one of their daughters into her arms to show to Bertram, and he gently handed one of them over to Ethel.


As he handed a baby to Ethel a strange warm feeling rose in his heart when he noticed the way her face lit up like a prism as she gently caressed the tiny baby. All of her shyness seemed to have evaporated as she cuddled the infants and looked up at him beaming.

He felt his own shy and goofy smile sneak out in reply. Even without words, he instinctively knew that everything between them was right once more.

Kaiser knew that there was something on his wife’s mind and that it had been there for quite some time. For several weeks, she had been distracted and quiet. Sometimes, she drew in a hesitant breath, as if to tell him something, only to let it back out again, omitting the words she had in her mind. Granted, he had not known the woman for any great length of time, but he thought he knew enough about her to tell that something was going on. Moreover, he was no fool. He thought that he already knew her secret.

It was therefore no surprise to him when he encountered the familiar hesitancy in her breath as she nervously settled herself into a chair beside him. Since no explanation seemed to be forthcoming, he decided his patience had been thoroughly outworn, and it was time to get an answer out of her.


“What is it?” he finally asked, weary of her timidity.

She looked startled, “Hmmm? I’m sorry,” she apologized. “What did you say?”

“I was asking why you are always lost in daydreams lately… Is there a reason that you look like you have been keeping something from me?”

“Oh…” she blushed. “It’s nothing…” She shrugged, obviously embarrassed to have been found out.

He waited patiently, looking at her straight in the eyes with frank and open curiosity. He knew that she would tell him now that he had her cornered. It took her a few moments to collect her thoughts, and he so he waited. Hesitantly, she finally spoke the words “I’m pregnant.” He noticed that as she spoke, she tried to hide her small, happy smile by quickly turning her face away.


“That’s wonderful,” he said, though his mind was elsewhere. He had surmised that she was pregnant, from her loose dresses and bouts of mysterious sickness, but what he didn’t know was why she had been keeping it a secret from him. Was she afraid that he would be unhappy with her? With the thought of a child? Though it seemed cold and calculating to admit it, one of the only reasons that he had married her was to secure his line and to stabilize his kingdom, which was still recovering from the wars his father had initiated early in his reign as king.

She looked anxiously at him, as if waiting for him to say more. Clearing his throat, he asked, “When is it due?”


She looked pleased at his attention. “Sometime in November,” she said, with that same little hint of a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

He nodded. “This makes me very happy,” he added, hoping to allay her fears… whatever they were.

She nodded and looked like she wanted to say something else, but didn’t. It bothered him when she did that. He wished that she would just say what she was thinking and let it out. He didn’t like mysterious or hesitation, and she was full of both. He wished that she could be bolder, and not such a timid gentle creature, but really, he knew there was no hope for it. It would be best for him not to say anything at all, and to learn how to gracefully bear with what fate had chosen for him in a wife.

Awesome story! I love the clothes and scenery to!

Thanks for taking the time to comment angelsavoir! I'm glad that you like it

“Hullo, Rose,” Albert chirped as he scooted next to her on the couch. “You’re up early this morning,” he said, noticing that the light was still blue and pale, and Rose did not usually awaken until several hours later. “How are you feeling?”

Rose rubbed her huge stomach. “Ready to pop.”

“You say that every morning,” he pointed out.

“Well, it’s always true,” she said. “But I think today’s really the day.”

“What makes today different?” Albert laughed.

“The contractions,” Rose explained, very matter-of-factly.

Albert’s eyes went wide. “Are you being serious with me, Rose?” he asked, not knowing whether it was truly safe to believe her. She was known, after all, for her lighthearted nature and constant joking.


“Of course I am,” she said very calmly. “I’ve been up all night with them. It doesn’t hurt very much yet, but the baby is definitely coming. I’m sure of that.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone, yet?” he demanded, jumping up from his seat. He was starting to panic. He was knew absolutely nothing at all about women and babies except that she should be off somewhere screaming, surrounded by other women. She should not be here, sitting calmly on a couch with him discussing her labor pains in such a placid voice…

“I didn’t want to wake anyone,” she said. “And anyways, half the maids are gone out to the field to prepare for the festival tonight. I didn’t want to walk that far out to find someone, knowing that I could pop a baby out at any
time.”


“Ohhh Rose, what am I supposed to do about this?” he whined, despairingly.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she huffed, pulling herself up to her feet as well, “as it’s none of your concern.”


He was trapped. Should he run to go find someone? A maid? A villager? Anyone? Or would that be exactly the opposite of what he was supposed to do? He wouldn’t feel right about himself if he ran off and left a lady in distress. “Rose!” he cried “Tell me what to do!”

“Calm down!” she growled. “You’re making me nervous!”

“Maybe you should go lie down,” he said in a voice that was strangely high-pitched to his ears.

“I don’t want to lie down,” she roared. “Now calm down and stop panicking before I have this baby here and now!”


“Ohh Rose, don’t do that!” he wailed.

“How can I not?” she yelled. “Ever since you started keening in that hysteric wail, the contractions have gotten much worse!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice growing louder and more high pitched yet.

“Maybe you should just leave me alone!” she groaned. “I was doing just fine by myself before you came in!”

“No! I can’t leave you by yourself,” he cried. “What if something happened?”

“Well maybe you should just go fetch someone else!” she screamed, half in annoyance, half in pain. Her face was growing red from the exertion. Then she let out a piercing cry of pain. “The baby is coming now!” she groaned, pulling in pain at her hair, causing the pins to fall out as it fell into a mess around her shoulders.

He hovered uselessly around her. “What should I do? What should I do?” he moaned, throwing his head around from side to side, as if looking for someone else to walk in and save him.


“Help me, you idiot!” she yelled at him. She immediately began to yank off her stockings and dress off.

“What are you doing!” he asked, stopping in his tracks to look down at her, as she now lie clad in nothing but her shift, lying on her back with her legs spread and feet propped up on the couch.


“You think I’m going to give birth standing up and with my stockings on?” she snarled.

He blushed furiously and then ran around, following her every demand, trying to ignore how horribly uncomfortable the whole situation was., even though without a doubt, it made him feel more uncomfortably embarrassed than anything he had ever experienced in his Whole. Entire. Life.


Throughout the entire process, which turned out to be a remarkably short ordeal, not a single person heard their screaming and came running in to help. Albert was forced to deal with the entire thing himself, from trying to wrangle the violent, screaming woman to a bed (which she absolutely would not allow), cutting off the newborn baby’s slimy umbilical cord, and washing off the blood coated infant. The whole procedure became a moment that he later thought of as one of the proudest of his life.

When the madness had ended a few hours later, and the sun had climbed higher in the sky, he gently laid Rose’s baby daughter beside her. He almost felt like the father himself, sitting exhausted beside Rose, while they happily beamed at each other, ignoring the bloody mess on the floor where Rose had given birth.

Sorry I'ven't commented lately, been busy.
Love Matthew and Ethylyn, its such a sweet storyline.
And is it just me or are all the sims having daughters?
Update soon and happy simsing!

It's ok. I do love your comments though ;0

*groans* They definitely all are having daughters! So in a few years when all those daughters grow up... Urg! I was hoping Rose would have a son, but noooooo! Had to be another daughter! So there may be a lot of husbandless girlies in a years unless I add in a lot of male simmies sometime...

Tiny droplets of water prickled Aethelis’s forehead as a light summer shower fell down upon her. Even through the clouds, the hot summer sun managed to blazed through the sky, causing the air to cling like sweat to her skin in the heat. She absolutely hated going to the market in the summer, when the fierce sunlight could so easily piece her delicate and pale skin even through her clothes and a storm might roll through at any moment. She trudged up the hill towards the commons, the wet and tickling grass clinging her ankles as she walked.

She was meaning to go to the apothecary to find something that might help Ellyn’s sore throat, but as she approached, she saw someone that she absolutely did not want to run into. Dulnstead Millhead stood watching her, casually propped against the apothecary stairs.


“Well I haven’t seen you in a long time Mistress Aethelis,” he drawled. His low voice rubbed across her skin like velvet, leaving a strange prickling sensation on her arms. She did not know if the trail of goose bumps was caused from nervousness or excitement.

“I really can’t stay to chat, Dulnstead,” she said. “I’m really very busy.”

He looked straight into her eyes in a way that made her rather uncomfortable. “Don’t want to just catch up on some things?” he asked. “We can go into the inn and get out of this damned rain,” he suggested. Without really waiting for an answer, he trotted off towards the building, not caring to turn around to look and see if she was following him or not.


She decided to follow him into the dry shade of the inn. She did not know exactly why she had felt compelled to follow when she could have so easily slipped away. She sat down with him at the roughly hewn table that he had selected and looked around.

Being one of the lower class inns in the village, it wasn’t a place that she normally frequented. It was full at the moment of people escaping the rain, but usually, it was crowded only with those looking for a more bawdy type of entertainment than she preferred. The inn’s tavern reminded her in many ways of him, in fact. Much like the man himself, it was a coarse and dim place. A bit shady, perhaps, but not dangerous…


He ordered a round of ale from the barmaid and then turned to her. “You look well, Aethelis, but how have you really been?” he asked. His voice was surprisingly tender. “I heard about your baby.”

Even months removed from the tragedy, her heart still cried at the mention of it. “It’s been a rough few months,” she replied.


He reached over the table and comfortingly took her hand in his. “I’ve always wondered what would have happened if things would have turned out differently,” he said, referring back to her youth, when he had been her lover. He had cheated on her with another woman, she remembered, and then married the other girl instead…


She withdrew her hand as the sting of the wounds he had inflicted on her all those years ago came rushing back once more. “I don’t think I should be here,” she said, but not unkindly. She got up and walked quickly away, somehow wanting him to follow her, even though she knew he never would.

“Give me back my toy!” Perrigwen yelled at Ioreck, who had yanked her toy pony out of her hands.

He grinned at her. “Ohhh does the little girl want her toy back?” he teased.
She glared at him. Why in the world had her mother decided to let this awful boy come over to play with her? She had thrown her best tantrum when it was suggested to her that they make nice. She had tried to do what Ellyn said, and imagine him like a brave, but slightly mislead knight that she could redeem, but it was no use. Ioreck was completely, unredeemably evil.


She considered her options. Half of her wanted to cry and the other half wanted to slap him and the third half (good math be damned) wanted to just go tell her mother. She took a moment, trying to decide her course of action.


Meanwhile, he leered at her, dangling her favorite wooden toy above the reach of her little hands. The site of his ugly face dangling her precious Monsieur le Cheval, as she called him, above her head was enough to send her into a fury. She lunged at him, kicking and screaming the whole way.


Unfortunately, her mother and Rossi chose that moment to come into her little nursery.

“Perri!” her mother gasped. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”


Perri ran to the comfort of her mother’s skirts. “Oh Mother! He’s been bullying me!” she whined.


Lady Catherine raised her eyebrows and looked to Rossi. “Do you want to handle your unruly child?” she said in the condescending voice that she usually reserved for the woman.


Rossi took an appraising glance at her son’s guilty and defiant face. “Give Perri back her toy and apologize” she commanded her son. He tossed the wooden horse down and gave Perri a scornful look as his exasperated mother led him from the room.


Perri still clung helplessly to her mother’s skirts, trying to decide if it were indeed all right to cry after all. Lady Catherine gazed silently back down at her daughter. “I know you don’t like this Periwinkle, but I think you need to learn to play nicely with Ioreck from now on.”

Perri frowned. “But he’s evil! I’ve already explicated very thoroughly on the matter, ” she said in her most grown up voice.

“Well, darling,” she sighed, “it would be best for us all if you should learn to like him. I know you don’t like this, but your father has promised you to be his wife. You know that there’s nothing you or I can say to him now to change him mind.”

“Nothing at all?” Perri asked, already knowing the answer since she had been trying for months to change her father’s mind. She started to feel despair welling up as her lip began to tremble.

“I’m afraid not,” her mother said. “Heaven knows how much I’ve tried.”

Perri knew that she needn’t way her options for this realization. She began to wail as her mother gently scoped her into her arms.