744 BCA pained scream tore through the estate.
“What are you doing to her?!” Lucien roared in panic and rage. A terrified nurse quaked before him. Lucien had been about to storm into the room from whence the scream came before the nurse stepped in front of him, pleading with him.
“The d-doctor is doing everything he can, monsieur Valois, I assure you! There are complications with the pregnancy, the child is-”
“My wife!” the nurse was cut off by another roar. “What are you doing to my
wife!”
“P-please, monsieur Valois, calm down, the child is-”
“Do not tell me to calm down, madame, as my wife screams in pain!” He raised his hand, causing the nurse to flinch in expectation of a blow, but Lucien took a deep breath and made a visible effort to control his emotions. “Tell me what they are doing in there.” His voice now possessed a shaky calm, his anger ready to erupt again given sufficient provocation.
“The child is twisted around, monsieur, they are having difficulty delivering. Please be patient; doctor Girard is doing everything he can.”
Lucien stared at the nurse with eyes full of hatred and she could not help but back away from the weight of their gaze upon her.
“You tell him,” spoke Lucien in a soft tone that did nothing to conceal the danger behind it. “You tell him that if anything happens to her...
anything, I will have his damned head.”
“O-oui, monsieur Valois,” the nurse stuttered as she backed into the room. Another screech of agony emanated from the room before the doors were shut. Lucien saw a glimpse of the bed, of sheets soaked in red.
He sat down in the next room, shaking. The love of his life screamed in agony again.
* * *
“I'm sorry, monsieur Valois. We did everything we could, but the birth caused internal haemorrhaging and we cannot stop the bleeding. It's only a matter of time before we lose her.”
Lucien stared at the grey haired doctor, eyes cold and dead. His wife had stopped screaming an hour ago, the child soon filling the silence with its own wailing. The nurse had continued keeping him from his wife and so he had waited, a sense of dread settling upon him, and now finally the doctor had confirmed his fears.
“But you have a child, monsieur,” the doctor continued, “a healthy girl. The nurse has her if you'd like to se-”
“No,” spoke Lucien, “I wish to see my wife.”
“Of course, monsieur,” the doctor stepped aside, finally allowing him entry into the room. It had been tidied, his wife now covered in clean white sheets to conceal the damage done to her. Her beautiful golden hair, slick with the sweat of exertion, haloed her deathly pale features where her head lay upon the pillow. Her lips, normally so full of life, twitched into a pained smile as she rested her eyes upon him. Each step taken to stand by her side felt like a league, he hurried to her as he felt his dread crushing his heart.
“Fran,” he spoke softly, taking her hand. “Fran. My love, I-”
“Lucien.” That same weak smile. It broke his heart. “We've a girl. A baby girl. Have you seen her? She's beautiful. So beautiful.”
“I haven't, mon amour. I shall see to her presently.” He felt his eyes brim with tears and he wiped them away angrily.
“Vivienne,” spoke Fran, weakly. “I want to call her Vivienne. After my mother.”
“Vivienne shall be her name, Françoise. Whatever you wish.”
Françoise closed her eyes, smiling. Lucien opened his mouth to speak, fearing that he had lost her already, before she spoke again.
“I believe I'm dying.”
Lucien shook his head, the tears coming again. “No, Françoise. You are not dying. You cannot leave me, mon amour. What would I do without you? You are my light.”
“You will have to continue without me, Lucien.” Lucien was shocked, as ever, by how she was able to remain so calm, even in the direst of circumstances. Her strength was always a source of amazement to him.
“I cannot.” Tears flowed freely down his cheeks. “I love you, Françoise.”
“I love you, Lucien.” She closed her eyes again for the last time. He clutched her hand, sobbing.
The light had gone from his life.