CHAPTER 64: THE FIRST KNIGHT: ARTHUR ALEXANDER MONTROSE

(16 years ago)

Lightning flashed across the sky, thunder rumbling non-stop in the distance, promising a loud and heavy rain in the near future.

Arthur woke to the sound. He blinked, disoriented, then jumped slightly when another clap of thunder followed. He held himself back from shouting.

He turned toward his little brother, Julian, only eight, who was still sleeping soundly, hugging his pillow tightly.

Arthur sat up and pulled the blanket over Julian, the one his brother had kicked aside. The room was dark, the only light coming from the flashes outside the window.

He glanced at the wall clock. Almost eleven p.m., eerily close to his own age. He’d be eleven in just a few days.

He lay back down, pulling the shared blanket up to his chin. That’s when he heard it: voices outside the bedroom. Shouting voices.

Arthur swallowed hard. It sounded like Mom and Dad. Arguing again. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

The next time Arthur opened his eyes, it was already morning. He looked past the faded window shutters. The sky was dark and gloomy; last night’s storm had lingered into morning.

He looked at the clock again. Almost seven. He flipped the blanket aside and got out of bed quietly. Leaving his room, he went to look for his mother.

He found her curled up on a single couch near the window of his parents’ bedroom, crying. Her bulging belly made it impossible for her to curl up properly. The position looked strange, and painfully uncomfortable.

He heard her soft sobs and ran to her, immediately wrapping his arms around her.

Leila gasped, but a moment later, she looped her arms around Arthur and hugged him back. She cried in his arms for a while before realizing he was only eleven, an age when he was supposed to cry in her arms, not the other way around.

She sniffled and lifted her head. Arthur saw her cheeks glistening with tears. He tried to wipe them away with his small hands, but his lips quivered as he fought to hold back his own.

Leila chuckled through her tears. She cupped the boy’s cheek. "I’m okay, sweetheart. Really, I’m okay."

Arthur nodded wordlessly, afraid tears would fall if he spoke. Then he touched his mother’s belly.

Leila’s gaze softened. "Your little sister is almost here. Here." She guided his small hand to where the baby kicked.

Arthur’s eyes widened when he felt it. "It’s such a strong kick, Mom. You don’t feel pain?"

Leila shook her head. "No. Strong kicks are a good sign. It means your sister is strong, like you."

Arthur tilted his head. "But she’s a girl. She can’t be as strong as me."

Leila laughed. "You’re right. You’re right, my boy." She laughed again and kissed his head. "You’re right."

Then she sighed softly.

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Arthur was swinging his wooden sword on the patio when he heard something break. The sword slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground. He ran toward the kitchen, where his mother was.

"Mom?!" he called out. He froze when he saw Leila holding her stomach with one hand and gripping the edge of the table with the other.

Broken pieces of a plate were scattered across the kitchen floor.

"Don’t come here! You might hurt your feet. Make sure Julian doesn’t come here too, Arthur. Please."

Arthur nodded, though worry clouded his face.

Between breaths, Leila panted, "I’m okay, sweetheart. It’s just... your little sister is coming." She tried to smile, but another wave of contraction hit her, twisting her expression in pain.

"I’ll call Dad. Hang on, Mom."

He dashed to the landline phone on the counter, careful to avoid the shards. When he saw Julian standing at the kitchen door, he stopped him.

"Jules, stop right there. Don’t come in. I’ll come to you in a minute. Stay there."

He picked up the phone and dialed his father’s number.

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"I’m sorry, Mr. Montrose, but your wife isn’t ready to push just yet. She’s only at four centimeters," the midwife told Maurice, who was pacing outside the bedroom.

Leila had refused to go to the hospital to give birth. She insisted on doing it at home with the help of a midwife. Maurice was concerned for her health, and for their daughter’s. They had argued about it for a long time, and last night they’d been at it again.

He knew why Leila refused. She was worried about their finances.

Maurice had said he’d take another loan, which made Leila shout, "Are you insane?!"

"But she’s in so much pain! Can’t you do something about it?" Maurice pleaded. He couldn’t stand hearing his wife’s screams any longer.

"I’m really sorry, sir. There’s nothing I can do."

"What about a— a— painkiller? You have some of those, right? I know you do."

The midwife hesitated. Mrs. Montrose had specifically requested no drugs, and she understood why.

When she first entered the house, she could tell their finances weren’t good. The house looked old and unkempt; most of the furniture should’ve been replaced years ago. It was a sharp contrast to the size of the land the house sat on.

Even though she’d been in a hurry when she arrived, she’d still noticed two boys, around eight and eleven at most, sweeping the floor. A clear sign they didn’t have any help.

"I... do, sir... but your wife said—"

"Don’t listen to her. Just give it to her. I’ll pay for it," Maurice said, his voice close to breaking.

Somehow, Leila heard that. She shouted from the bedroom, "Don’t you dare! I’m o— aahh!"

She couldn’t finish her sentence as another contraction tore through her.

Maurice’s face went paler. He turned to the midwife, almost pleading now. "Please. Give her the drugs."

"Why is Mom screaming like that?" Julian sobbed, pressing both hands over his ears. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Arthur wrapped his arms around him tightly, trying to block the sound.

Both boys stood not far from Maurice. They could hear their mother’s screams clearly, and it terrified them. But Arthur knew he couldn’t show his fear. He swallowed hard, his own face pale, his eyes brimming — but he held it in for Julian’s sake.

"Sshh, it’s okay, Jules. It’s okay. Let’s not disturb them," Arthur whispered. "Mom’s trying to give birth to our sister. She’ll be here soon."

He tried to distract Julian. "Come on, let’s play in our room." He gently pulled his little brother away.

Julian nodded, still sniffling, and followed Arthur without protest.

"I’m hungry," he said softly.

Arthur glanced at him, then nodded. "Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make you a sandwich, okay?"

Julian nodded again, and the two boys headed to the kitchen.