Echoes of forgotten

Seventeen years ago.

The dream began with flowers. White tulip flowers. A field of them glowing under the night sky. The air was warm. Peaceful. the kind of place that should’ve existed only in fariy tales. And in the midlle of that field stood a young girl. Her back was turned to me. White hair danced in the wind. I couldn’t see her face. Yet every time I saw her, my heart knew. My daughter.

Then the flowers began to die. One by one. Petals darkened in a shade of red. The stars vanished from the sky. And that child disappeared. Leaving me alone.

I woke with a gasp. Moonlight spilled across the room. My hands found my stomach imediately. The baby moved beneath my touch. Alive. Safe. For now.

I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. It was only a dream. That’s what everyone kept telling me. Only a dream.

But the dreams kept returning. Night after night. Always the same girl. Always the same feeling of lost. Always the same fear clawing at my chest when I woke up.

My marriage had been written long before i could had a say in it- sealed in treaties, signed in ink meant to quiet the drum of war. A young duke of one kingdom, a princess of another, bound together not by choice, but by the desperate mathematics of peace.

Love was never listed among the terms. And yet it came anyway. Not loudly. Not all at once. But like warmth seeping into stone after a long winter- quiet, persistent, transforming everything i touched.

The night i told my husband about the dreams, the fire was low and golden, flickering like a secret it was trying not to reveal.

“I keep seeing her.”

He looked up from the book in his hand.

“Seeing who?”

“Our daughter.”

The words sounded foolish the moment they left my mouth. I hated how foolish they sounded.

“I dream about her every night.”

His expression softened. He reached for my hand.

“You’ve been worried since the pregnancy began.”

“No!” I shook my head. “You don’t understand.” The memory still made my chest tighten.

“I see her.” I swallowed hard. “And every dream ends with me loosing her.”

Silence.

Then his thumb brushed gently across my knuckles.

“You are safe.” His voice was warm. Steady. Certain. “Nothing will happen to you or our children. I promise you.”

I wanted to believe him. Gods, I wanted to.

A few days later, my brother came. In the garden of silver lillies - my favorite place in the world- I tried to tell him everything. Every dream that hounted my sleep, every fear that clung to my waking hours, every detail I had tried so hard to bury.

He listened patiently.

When I finished, he laughed softly and placed a flower behind my ear.

“Do you think someone is bold enough to hurt the princess of Caladryth kingdom...or her kids?”

I frowned.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

His smile never faltered. “You’re surrounded by people who would die to protect you and your children,” he said, glancing back at the guard who had followed me since I was a young girl.

He rested a hand on my shoulder. “Your baby is safe.”

Safe. The word followed me everywhere. Like a promise. Like a prayer. Like a lie.

That night the dream returned. Stronger than ever before. The field of flowers. The white haired girl. The dying stars.

But this time she turned toward me. I couldn’t see her face. Not clearly. Only tears. Running down her cheeks.

And then she reached for me. The moment our fingers almost touched-

I woke.

The room was silent. Yet something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. I sat up slowly. My heart pounding. Across the room, a small figure slept peacefully beneath a blanket.

My son.

I stared at him for a long time. At the rise and fall of his chest. At his messy blue hair. At the tiny hand hanginng over the side of the bed. He looked so small. So innocent. A sudden ache spread through my chest.

I crossed the room and knelt beside him. Careful not to wake him. My fingers brushed his hair away from his forehead. He stirred slightly. Murmurred something in bhis sleep. Them settled again.

A tear slepped down my cheek. I didn't know why. Not yet. I only knew that I couldn't looking at him. As thought my mind was saying goodbye before my mind had caught up.

Outside, thunder rolled in the distance.

A storm was coming.

The baby kicked . Hard. Like she understood something I hadn’t said aloud.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, pressing both palms into my stomach, as if i could hold us together by force.

Near midnight, footsteps came.

Not outside. Inside. I froze. They stopped. Then started again- closer this time. Slow. Careful. Patient.

A voice, barely more than a breath, said: “Run.”

I turned toward the room. No one there. My little boy still slept, untouched by whatever had woken the house.

The voice came again, closer now. “Run...now.”

My heart began punding so violently I though it might split open.

I didn’t wait. I didnt ask questions. I didn’t even look back at the guard who had been with me since i was young- my constant shadow, my supposed protection.

I grabbed my cloak and ran.

The night air struck like ice against my lungs, sharp enough to wake something primal in me. Still, I kept running. One hand clutching my belly, the other cutting through darkness as if it could carve a path forward.

Through fields.

Across roads.

Into the forest.

Until, at last, I reached a place I knew too well.

The white tulip field.

It was exactly as it appeared in my dreams- too perfect, too precise, like memory made physical. Even the sky matxhed it, painted in that impossible stillness.

It felt untouched. Hidden. As if even the storm had agreed not to follow me here. Almost as if the world beyond this place had stopped existing at all.

“The flowers are beautiful.” The baby kicked. I laughed. A real laugh. “Is that your answer?” Another kick. My smile faded.

I wondered if she would ever remember me. The thought hurt. More than exhaustion. More than fear.

Would she know I loved her? Whould she know I tried? Would he find her? Keep her safe? Or would we become nothing more than strangers she never met? The gtears came then. Quiet. Unstoppable.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered it into the darkness. Again. And again. And again.

The pain started suddenly. Sharp enough to make me fall to my knees.

“No...”

Another wave followed. Then another. I knew immediately. It was time. Panic gripped me. Not because of the pain. Not because I was alone. Because she deserved better than this. She deserved warmth. A bed. Someone to welcome her into the world.

Hours passed. I screamed until my voice broke. Cried until there was no tears left. Prayed until I couldn’t remember the words.

Then...

A cry. The smallest sound I had ever heard. And the most beautiful. I looked down. And there she was. My daughter. For a moment the world disappeared. There was only her. Her tiny hands. Her tiny nose. Her white hair. So soft. So beautiful.

I touched her cheek. And she turned toward my hand. Instinctively. Trusting me. Completely.

That nearly destroyed me. Because i was dying. I could feel it.

My body was cold. Too cold. The bleeding wouldn’t stop. I held her close. As if somehow I could memorize every part of her before I left.

“Hello, my love.” My voice cracked. ” You don’t know me yet.” I laughed through tears. “And now we don’t have time.”

She opened her eyes. Looking straight at me. The dawn light was beginning to break through. Soft gold filtered through the clouds. Touching her face. She looked like a miracle.

The I heard them. Hoofbeats. Far away. Coming closer. My heart sank.

No.

No.

No.

Not now.

Please.

Not now.

I had only just met her.

I hadn’t even had a fully hour.

Not even one hour.

I wanted more. I wanted a lifetime. I wanted birthdays. Stories. Laughter. Arguments. Hugs. Everything.

The hoofbeats grew louder. I kissed her forehead. My lips lingered there. Trying to hold onto the moment. Trying to stop time.

“I love you.”

The words escaped before i could stop them.

“I love you so much.”

My vison blurred.

“I wish...” My throat tightened. “I wish I could stay.”

The sound of horses broke through the trees.

I gently placed her down. Wrapped tightly against cold. Safe. Hidden in tulips field. She started crying. The sound tore through my chest. Every instinct screamed at me to pick her up again. To hold her. To never let go.

But if i did... She would die with me. So i stepped away. One step. Then another. Each one felt impossible. Then I turned around. Drew my sword. And faced the approaching riders.

My hands were shaking.

My body was failing.

My legs barely held me upright.

But behind me...

My daughter was breathing. That was enough.

If this was where my story ended...

Then so be it.

Because hers was only beginning.