***Cadiz***
I woke to the sound of soft crying.
Not distressed crying, just the small, insistent sounds of newborns demanding attention.
My eyes opened slowly, my body aching in ways I'd never experienced before. Every muscle felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry, and there was a deep, bone-tired exhaustion that went beyond anything I'd felt even during the war.
But none of that mattered when I turned my head and saw them.
Two tiny bundles wrapped in soft blankets, nestled in a cradle beside the bed. One was fussing, little fists waving in the air. The other slept peacefully despite his brother's complaints.
My sons.
"They're hungry again," Camilla said from where she was perched on the edge of my bed, leaning over the cradle with her chin propped in her hands. She'd barely left the babies' side since they were born.
"Bring him," I said, my voice rough from exhaustion.
