#sidehousehold

[timesimmer]

The night was dark and cold, a stark contrast to the warm, inviting glow emanating from the House of Blossoms. Thomas Blackburne stood outside the infamous establishment, a mixture of dread and determination etched on his face.

He had returned to the brothel, haunted by the weight of his past indiscretions. Madam Blossom, the cunning proprietor, emerged from the shadows, her eyes glinting with a knowing smile.

"Well, well, well," she purred, her voice laced with malice. "It seems our young knight has returned."

Thomas, his face flushed with anger, tossed a bag of coins at her feet. "That should cover my brother's debt," he growled. "And don't you dare contact him about this."

Madam Blossom's smile faded, replaced by a look of surprise. "And what about your debt?" she asked, her tone turning menacing.

Thomas hesitated, his mind racing. "It depends on Una," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. "If she wants to leave with me, I'll take care of her and the child."

Madam Blossom's smirked. "Children" she said, as she stared into Thomas's look of disbelief.

"What?" Thomas whispered

Madam Blossom nodded. "Yes, children. Twins."

He entered the tavern, his heart heavy with dread and anticipation. He found Una in a brightly lit room, her expression a mix of shame and resignation.

"Thomas," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to take you home," he replied, his voice firm. "And to take care of our children."

Una's eyes widened in disbelief. "But your reputation, your future..." she stammered.

Thomas pushed passed the lump in his throat as she said the word future. He had imagined a different future for himself and had half hoped that Antonia would be a part of it, but that was long passed now. It had to take care of his responsibility.

Thomas took her hand, his touch gentle but resolute. "I don't care about any of that," he said. "All I care about is you and our children."

Una, moved by his sincerity, agreed to leave with him. As they walked out of the brothel, hand in hand, Thomas felt a sense of hope and purpose. He tossed another bag of coins, this time heavy paying off Una's debts along with his own in front of Madam Blossom. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but he was determined to build a new life for himself and his family.

[lilabella12]

1317 - Day 1

Evan is up before dawn the next day - he has a promise to fulfill. He makes some gruel, it's the only thing he can afford right now and leaves it out for the children when they wake. Then he saddles up and takes a ride to his brother's homestead.

When he finally gets there, he can't believe his eyes. Everything his brother worked for for the last decade is gone.

Alll that's left is a pile of smoldering ashes and some of the walls of their home. He can't let the children see this. The fire even consumed some of the nearby woods and the straw roofs... the only thing left untouched are the unfertile soils of the farm.

It takes him a while but he finds Emma.

Her clothes are burned up, but she feels cold and stiff to his touch. he does the only thing he can for her now - he brings her home.

Of course Daniel and Eve are devastated when they get the news.

Daniel: "I should have gone back, I knew it. I'm so sorry, mother..."

Evan: "You did the best you could, Daniel. You saved your siblings, I told you last night."

Eve can't even speak, her tears shake her whole body.

Daniel: "But I could have done something!"

Evan: "And perish in the blaze as well? You would not even recognize the house, Daniel."

Daniel: "But it's our home! Where will we live now?"

Evan: "WIth me. You will stay here, with me. And Eve and Ian, Flora and Ida."

Daniel: "You will take care of the five of us all on your own?"

Evan: "Yes, Daniel. I will."

After this day the house will get a little cramped, but he will manage. He promised his brother to help whenever he can, so he does.

It has been a while since Jayden died, and after a few weeks, Tara is feeling too weak to stand as well. Leah, who has turned 13 a few days ago, takes care of her mother until she passes.

Now all alone in the house and responsible for her two brothers, she vows to get them through this. Whatever it may take.

| previous | next |

poll under the cut ⬇️

So, just as I wrote before, here's a bit of background information for the last few posts. I've had baaaaaad luck with the dice for these past 2 years.

NONE of the Sims who aged up to adults made it, either with a bad age up roll (red) or bad famine roll (pink). Evan is now the only one who can even take care of anyone if we exclude Leah, who is off in another part of the country and probably doesn't even remember her family that well.

So, I wanted to make the story a bit more interesting, not ONLY starvation due to famine so... my mind made up that thing in the last post and the beginning of this one. I hope it wasn't too much to take in, I did enjoy making this story happen.... I would love to know how you all think about it.

Famine is not over yet, but most of what I wanted to tell is done. For now we will combine sidehousehold 2 & the main household. Now the big question is, do you think Evan needs some help with these 5 kids (and a horse) or should we make him do this all alone until Daniel and Eve (the oldest of the bunch) age up?

I'm not opposed to remarrying him, I kinda think he deserves it, but I'm not sure how to integrate it into the story (yet). Also he might have some baby tries left over. So this is where you come in.

Feel free to leave a message as to why you chose how you chose or to tell me how you feel about the story, I love engaging with other simblrs!

After this post is up, I will take a short break just to see the results so I can incorporate them, then we'll be back to regular posts.

[timesimmer]

Elizabeth, her heart heavy with the weight of a year's grief, prepared for bed. The familiar sounds of the blacksmith shop, usually a comforting hum, now carried an eerie silence. Her father, a beacon of strength and guidance, had been gone for a year, and the shop, once a bustling hive of activity, had fallen into a quiet decline.

As she drifted off to sleep, a sudden clang of metal jarred her awake. Intrigued and a bit frightened, Elizabeth ventured downstairs to investigate. The workshop, bathed in the soft glow of the hearth, was a sight she hadn't witnessed in months. To her astonishment, Kingsley Atwood, one of her father's most promising apprentices, stood before the forge, his hands busy shaping a new sword.

Kingsley turned, a small smile playing on his lips. Elizabeth, her emotions raw and exposed, couldn't hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes. She had been trying to maintain a facade of strength for her family, but in Kingsley's presence, her carefully constructed walls crumbled.

Kingsley approached her gently, his touch warm and comforting. As he held her, Elizabeth felt a strange sensation, a tingling that spread through her body. It was a feeling she couldn't quite explain, but it was undeniably powerful. In that moment, she realized she no longer wanted to hide from her emotions, from the pain and longing that had consumed her.

Their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them. Elizabeth leaned into his embrace, her heart pounding. As their lips met, a spark ignited within her, a warmth that banished the chill of despair that had enveloped her life. They moved from the workshop to the spare room above, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace.

Elizabeth knew she was doing something she shouldn't, something that went against societal norms. But in that moment, she didn't care. All she wanted was to feel something, anything other than the emptiness that had consumed her. As Kingsley pulled back, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness, she nodded, her silent consent a testament to the intensity of their connection.

Ornelle Smith, her heart pounding with worry, awoke to find her daughter's bed empty. A wave of dread washed over her as she searched the house, her voice echoing through the silent rooms. The blacksmith shop, usually teeming with activity, was eerily quiet. Just as she was about to give up, a faint creak from the spare room above caught her attention.

Intuition, fueled by a mother's instinct, propelled her up the narrow staircase. The door to the spare room stood ajar, and with a trembling hand, she pushed it open. The sight that greeted her was a shock, a betrayal that pierced her heart. There, in the bed, lay her daughter, Elizabeth, entwined with Kingsley Atwood, her husband's former apprentice.

Their attempts at explanation were met with a cold, unforgiving silence. Ornelle's mind raced, her heart heavy with the weight of her daughter's actions. She looked at Kingsley, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "How could you take advantage of her?" she demanded, her voice trembling.

Elizabeth tried to defend herself, but her words were lost in the storm of Ornelle's emotions. "Leave the room," Ornelle ordered, her voice firm.

Kingsley, his face pale, pleaded for forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt her," he said, his voice filled with regret. "What can I do to make things right?"

Ornelle's answer was swift and decisive. "Marry her," she said, her voice cold. "That's the only way to protect her reputation."

Kingsley hesitated, his heart heavy with doubt. He liked Elizabeth, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for marriage. Ornelle, sensing his hesitation, threatened to report him to the authorities. Faced with the prospect of imprisonment, Kingsley reluctantly agreed to the arranged marriage.

[timesimmer]

TW: Starvation, Near Death

Nadya stepped outside, her heart pounding in her chest. She called out for Ameera and James, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and fear. The children were nowhere to be seen. Panic surged through her as she searched the yard, her eyes scanning the ground.

Then she saw them. Ameera and James were lying motionless on the grass, their bodies pale and gaunt. A wave of horror washed over Nadya as she ran towards them, her screams echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

Her other children came running, their faces contorted with fear. Nadya scooped up Ameera and James, her hands trembling. "Stefan!" she cried, her voice hoarse. "Help me!"

Her brother, Stefan, rushed to her aid. Together, they carried the children inside, their hearts heavy with despair. The hunger had been too much for the young bodies to handle.

Stefan examined the children, his face grim. "There's nothing I can do," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "It's too late."

Nadya shook her head, refusing to accept defeat. "No," she insisted, her voice a desperate whisper. "There has to be something."

Stefan left the room, giving Nadya some privacy. As soon as he was gone, Nadya reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial. She had finished the potion she had been working on, and she had carried it with her, just in case. She hadn't been able to test it on anyone, but now she had no choice. She wouldn't lose her children.

Nadya gave the vial to Ameera, her heart pounding in her chest. Then she moved over to James's bed and administered the potion. She watched as their breathing steadied, a flicker of hope returning to her heart.

She wouldn't know if the potion had worked for a while, but Nadya continued to sit by her children's beds, her eyes fixed on their faces. She would do whatever it took to protect them, no matter the cost.

[timesimmer]

1300 Decade End Summary - Royal Family Edition

Here is an update of where the royal and noble families are at the end of 1309.

House Stagfield

King Philip I - 23 years old

Queen Genevieve - 20 years old

Princess Ceanna - 1-year-old

Princess Letha - 3 months old

Prince Evrard - 21 years old

Princess Fiora - 21 years old

Lady Wilmaette - 1-year-old

House Gilbert

Dowager Countess Synnove - 44 years old

Earl Nolan - 20 years old

Countess Cecilia - 20 years old

Lady Rose - 1 year old

Lady Antonia - 8 years old

House Davenport

Baron Trystrem - 35 years old

Baroness Catelyn - 25 years old

Lord George - 3 years old

House Clarillot

King Henri I - 55 years old

Prince Henri II - 24 years old

Princess Emma - 27 years old

Prince Geoffroi - 5 years old

Princess Isabella - 2 years old

Princess Blanche - 2 years old

Princess Anais - 15 years old

House Almanzor

King Mateo - 42 years old

Queen Ines - 42 years old

Prince Adrian - 28 years old

Princess Elise - 20 years old

Lovers & Illegitimate Children

Edrea Wright - Mistress of King Philip

Sir Nehemiah Pearce - Lover of Queen Genevieve

Allyson Bright - the illegitimate child of Prince Evrard

Stephen Bright - the second illegitimate child of Prince Evrard

Deaths

King Agan II Stagfield - (1254 - 1305)

Queen Letha Stagfield - (1254 - 1305)

Princess Mary Stagfield - (1305 - 1305)

Baron George Mulland - (1238 - 1302)

Lady Joan Davenport - (1303 - 1305)

Earl Cyrus Gilbert - (1265 - 1306)

Lord Tystrem Davenport II - (1308 - 1308)

Queen Marie Clarillot - (1274 - 1304)

[timesimmer]

House Stagfield

King Agan was shocked that the negotiations between himself and King Henri I were taking this long. He had hoped that their long-standing alliance and his marriage to King Henri's youngest sister would help things go his way. But every letter with new terms that he sent came back rejected. It wasn't till King Agan and Queen Letha made a journey to Lyonfleur to speak to the King in person that the negotiations were finalized.

Princess Emma of Aethelmark married Prince Henri II of House Clarillot. While she had known her cousin as a child, it had been years since they had seen each other, and now they were to be married. Not only that, but she would one day be the Queen of Lyonfleur, something that she had been told since childhood but never really believed would come true. But as they placed the rings upon each other's fingers, she could feel her destiny slipping into place.

Marriage

Crown Prince Henri II of House Clarillot married Princess Emma of House Stagfield

[timesimmer]

TW: Illness and Near Death of Toddler

Alaric stepped into the house, a sense of dread settling over him. He had been out searching for supplies, leaving Gregory to care for Philippa. The girl had been unwell for days, and the herbs he'd given her hadn't seemed to help. He felt useless without Nadya's knowledge, as he thought back to when she had vanished into the night, taking James and Ameera with her.

As he entered the house, he saw Philippa lying motionless on the floor. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow. Panic surged through him. He knelt beside her, his heart pounding. He had never been skilled in healing magic, and he didn't know what to do.

Gregory, sensing his father's distress, rushed into the room. "Father, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Alaric pointed to Philippa, his voice barely a whisper. "She's not breathing," he said.

Gregory knelt beside his sister, his eyes filled with determination. He closed his eyes and focused, drawing on a power he didn't fully understand. "Death," he commanded, his voice firm, "let go of her."

A surge of energy pulsed through Philippa's frail body. Her heart began to beat stronger, and her eyelids fluttered. She opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on Gregory.

"Gregory," she whispered, her voice weak. She looked over toward Alaric. "Father."

Alaric's relief was overwhelming. He pulled Philippa into his arms, tears of joy streaming down his face.

Later that day, when Philippa was feeling stronger, she approached Gregory. "Thank you," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "You saved my life."

Gregory smiled. "We're family," he replied. "We'll always be there for each other."

As they embraced, Alaric watched them, a sense of hope returning to his heart. Perhaps, despite the darkness that had fallen upon their family, there was still light to be found.

[timesimmer]

TW: Death of Newborn

Prince Evrard, the younger brother of King Philip, sat at his desk, overseeing the affairs of his duchy. His pregnant wife, Duchess Fiora, entered the room, her face pale and drawn.

"The baby is coming," she announced, her voice trembling.

Evrard sprang to his feet, summoning the midwives. They swept Fiora upstairs, their hurried footsteps echoing through the castle. The sounds of Fiora's labored breathing and her cries of pain filled the air.

Suddenly, the room fell silent. Evrard strained to hear the sound of a newborn's cry, but it never came. The royal physician emerged, his head bowed.

"I'm so sorry, Your Highness," he murmured.

Evrard's heart sank. He entered the room and found his wife weeping. This was the second child they had lost in two years. Their hopes of having a family had been shattered, time and again.

A wave of despair washed over Evrard. Would they ever have a child of their own? The question hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of their sorrow.

[timesimmer]

1309 Updates

Here are the birthdays, marriages, and deaths for the side households in the year 1308. This list will not include anyone from my main household or any of the Blackburne siblings and their families (Smith, Hicrest, and Alaric's family).

Birthdays:

House Clarillot

Prince Geoffroi Clarillot - Age: 5 years old / Lifestage: Child

Princess Isabella Clarillot - Age: 1.5 years old / Lifestage: Toddler

Princess Blanche Clarillot - Age: 1.5 years old / Lifestage: Toddler

House Stagfield

Princess Ceanna Stagfield - Age: 1.5 years old / Lifestage: Toddler

Lady Wilmaette Stagfield - Age: 3 months / Lifestage: Infant

Princess Letha Stagfield - Age: 0 / Lifestage: Newborn

Prince Evrard Stagfield - Age: 21 / Lifestage: Young Adult

Princess Fiora Stagfield - Age: 21 / Lifestage: Young Adult

Deaths: None!

Marriage: None

[timesimmer]

The vibrant market of Viborg was a stark contrast to the quiet villages of Valois. The air was filled with merchants' clamor, street vendors' cries, and shoppers' excited chatter. Alaric, Gregory, and Philippa had settled into their new life in Danoria, but a sense of longing still lingered in their hearts.

As Alaric wandered through the market, he couldn't help but admire the unique blend of cultures that made Viborg so special. The city was a melting pot of different peoples, each with their own customs and traditions. As he was leaving a stall, he accidentally bumped into a man.

"Apologies," Alaric said, bowing his head.

The man smiled, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "No harm done," he replied. "I'm Gunnar Ravn."

Alaric returned the smile. "Alaric Blackburne."

A woman, with piercing blue eyes and a stern expression, joined Gunnar's side. She gave Alaric a distrustful look.

"This is my wife, Brynhild," Gunnar introduced.

Before Brynhild could say anything, a young woman emerged from a nearby stall. She had long, flowing blonde hair and a radiant smile.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she said, her voice soft and melodious. "Father, Mother."

She turned to Alaric and extended her hand. "I'm Iona," she said.

Alaric took her hand, his heart pounding. There was something about her, a familiar spark, a sense of hope. As he looked into her eyes, he felt a warmth he hadn't felt in years. It was the same feeling he had experienced when he first met Nadya.

As Gunnar and Alaric continued to talk, Alaric couldn't help but steal glances at Iona. She was intelligent, kind, and beautiful. Perhaps, he thought, there was still hope for happiness.

[timesimmer]

The forest, once a place of solace and beauty, now echoed with the tension of their desperate escape. The leaves, a vibrant tapestry of autumn hues, rustled ominously as the wind picked up, mirroring the turmoil in their hearts.

Genevieve, her once regal demeanor now marked by fear, clung to Nehemiah's arm. "Nehemiah," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "I fear for our safety. Philip will stop at nothing to reclaim me."

Nehemiah, his heart heavy with worry, gently cupped her face. "Fear not, my love," he reassured her, his voice steady. "I will protect you. Always."

A flicker of hope ignited in Genevieve's eyes as she smiled weakly. She pulled away, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. Nehemiah, lost in the comforting warmth of her touch, didn't notice the approaching footsteps until a voice shattered the tranquility of the forest.

"Nehemiah!"

He whirled around, his heart pounding. Sir Tristian, a once-trusted friend, stood before him, accompanied by another guard. A grim smile played on Tristian's lips. "Come with me, Nehemiah," he offered, his voice laced with a sinister undertone. "No one will get hurt."

Nehemiah's blood ran cold. "You think I would surrender so easily?" he challenged.

Tristian chuckled. "No, that's why I came prepared."

As if on cue, the other guard stepped forward, a sword pressed against Genevieve's throat. A wave of terror washed over Nehemiah as he realized the gravity of the situation.

"Let her go!" he roared, his voice filled with rage.

"Don't worry, our King wants her alive," Tristian replied nonchalantly. "But you, Nehemiah...well, that's a different story."

A fierce battle ensued, the clash of swords echoing through the trees. Nehemiah fought with a desperation born of love and fear, his every move fueled by the desire to protect Genevieve. With a swift, decisive strike, he disarmed Tristian, leaving him wounded on the forest floor.

Turning his attention to the guard holding Genevieve captive, Nehemiah lunged forward, rescuing his beloved from the brink of danger. With a swift, merciless blow, he ended the guard's life.

Panting heavily, Nehemiah turned to Genevieve, his eyes filled with relief and love. "We must hurry," he urged, his voice barely a whisper. "Philip will send more men."

Together, they fled into the depths of the forest, their hearts pounding in unison, their future uncertain, but their love unwavering.

[timesimmer]

The church bells chimed, their melody filling the air with a sense of hope and renewal. Thomas stood at the altar, his heart a whirlwind of emotions. He had made a decision, a life-altering choice. He was about to marry Una, a woman he had barely known.

A part of him couldn't help but think of Antonia, her ethereal beauty and her gentle spirit. He wondered what life would have been like had he pursued her, had he dared to dream of a future together. But those thoughts were fleeting, quickly overshadowed by his commitment to Una and their children.

As Una walked down the aisle, her face radiant with love and hope, Thomas's heart swelled with pride. She looked beautiful, her eyes sparkling with a newfound joy. The priest began the ceremony, his words a blur as Thomas focused on Una.

When the time came to exchange vows, Thomas spoke from the heart, promising to love and cherish Una and their children. As they sealed their vows with a kiss, a spark ignited between them, a connection that transcended their humble beginnings.

Later that day, Thomas and Una returned to their modest home. The nursery, filled with the soft glow of lamplight, was a picture of tranquility. Their two children, Katharine and Isaac, slept peacefully in their cradles.

As Una tucked the children into bed, Thomas pulled her aside. "I won't be going back to the barracks tonight," he said, his voice low.

Una's eyes widened in surprise. "But your duties..."

"I'll make time," he assured her. "For now, I just want to be with you and the children."

He pulled her into his arms, his lips touching hers passionately. As they deepened the kiss, Thomas felt a sense of belonging, a sense of home.

[timesimmer]

Alaric sat at the table, his face etched with worry. He had been pondering this decision for weeks. It was time to make a change, a drastic one. He looked at Gregory and Philippa, his remaining children.

"Children," he began, his voice heavy, "it's time we leave."

Confusion flickered in their eyes. "Leave?" Philippa asked, her voice small. "But what about Mother? She might come back."

Alaric sighed. "It's because of your mother that we must go," he explained. "She dabbled in dark magic, a forbidden art. If she or your siblings returns, they could endanger us all."

Gregory's eyes widened. "Why would she do that?" he asked.

"She was desperate," Alaric replied. "She wanted to protect you all, but her methods were dangerous."

Alaric knew he had to make a fresh start, a new beginning for himself and his children. He had to leave behind the memories of Nadya, the pain, and the fear.

The next day, Alaric visited his brother-in-law, Stefan. "I'm leaving," he announced. "I'm taking the children and starting a new life."

Stefan was shocked. "But why? Nadya wouldn't dare come back here. She knows the consequences."

Alaric shook his head. "I can't risk it," he said. "This place is filled with too many memories. It's time to move on."

With heavy hearts, Alaric and his children said goodbye to Stefan and his family. They boarded a carriage and embarked on their journey. Weeks later, they arrived at a bustling port city. A large ship, ready to sail to a distant land, awaited them.

"What will it be like there, Father?" Philippa asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Alaric smiled. "I don't know," he admitted. "But as long as we're together, we'll be alright."

[timesimmer]

TW: Death, Stillborn

The room was filled with the tension of childbirth. Elizabeth, her brow furrowed with pain, gripped the bedsheets, her knuckles white. Ornelle, skilled midwife and devoted mother, coached her daughter through each contraction. Hours seemed to pass, each one more agonizing than the last.

"It's time to push, Elizabeth," Ornelle urged, her voice firm.

Elizabeth shook her head, her strength waning. "I can't," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"You can, and you must," Ornelle insisted. "As a mother, you have the strength to endure anything."

With a renewed determination, Elizabeth pushed, her body straining with effort. A piercing cry filled the room, and Ornelle beamed with pride. She gently placed the newborn in Elizabeth's arms. A wave of love washed over Elizabeth as she gazed at her son, a feeling so profound that it surprised even her.

But before she could fully savor the moment, another wave of pain swept over her. "Another one?" she gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Ornelle nodded, her expression grave. "Yes, my dear, it seems you're having twins."

Elizabeth braced herself, pushing with all her might. As the baby emerged, a silence fell over the room. Ornelle's face was etched with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth," she murmured. The newborn, tiny and frail, had not survived.

Elizabeth, her heart heavy with grief, cradled her surviving son. She asked to hold the stillborn infant, a final act of love and farewell. As she gazed upon the tiny, lifeless form, a tear rolled down her cheek. She kissed the baby's forehead, a silent goodbye.

Kingsley entered the room, his face a mask of concern. Ornelle gently explained the tragic news. Kingsley, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions, focused on the living child, his newborn son. He picked up the baby, his heart filled with love and hope.

Elizabeth, though grateful for her surviving son, was consumed by grief. She named the stillborn infant William, a bittersweet tribute to a life cut short. As she held her living son, John, a name picked by Kingsley, she couldn't shake the sorrow that lingered in her heart. The joy of motherhood was tempered by the pain of loss.

[timesimmer]

The kingdom of Valois, though still scarred by the ravages of the Great Famine, was on the brink of a new era. Prince Geoffroi, now thirteen years old, had spent the past two years training rigorously under the watchful eye of King Regent Charles. The young prince had matured beyond his years, absorbing knowledge and honing his leadership skills.

On his thirteenth birthday, Geoffroi strode into the throne room, his demeanor both youthful and resolute. King Regent Charles, his face etched with the weight of responsibility and the toll of the famine, looked up with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "You've grown, Geoffroi," he remarked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I'm ready, Charles," Geoffroi declared, his voice steady. "It's time to claim what is rightfully mine."

Charles hesitated, aware of the immense burden that would fall upon the young king's shoulders. "Are you certain, Geoffroi? The crown is a heavy weight to bear, especially in these troubled times."

Geoffroi nodded firmly. "The crown is mine by birthright. It's time to lead Valois out of the darkness and into a new age."

With a heavy heart, Charles acknowledged the young king's determination. He agreed to continue serving Valois, but as a counselor rather than a regent.

A simple coronation ceremony was held, a solemn affair marked by the weight of the kingdom's suffering. Geoffroi, now King Geoffroi I, was crowned, and the nobles swore their allegiance to their new ruler. The kingdom, though weary and weakened, placed its hopes in the young king. They prayed that he would be the beacon of hope they so desperately needed.

[timesimmer]

The tavern was a haven for weary travelers, a place where the stresses of the day could be washed away with a tankard of ale. Thomas, exhausted from a long day of training and duty, sought solace in the dimly lit room. As he nursed his drink, a woman approached his table, her smile both inviting and predatory.

"Well, well, well," she purred, her voice laced with a knowing glint. "If it isn't young Master Blackburne."

Thomas's heart sank. He recognized her immediately - Madam Blossom, the owner of the infamous House of Blossoms. A wave of dread washed over him as he recalled the night of debauchery that he had 9 months ago.

"I'm afraid I'm not interested tonight, Madam," he stammered, his voice barely audible.

But Madam Blossom was not deterred. "Oh, but I think you are," she replied, a sly grin spreading across her face. "I remember that night quite well. You and your brother, quite the pair of troublemakers."

Thomas's face turned red with embarrassment. He tried to protest, but the words caught in his throat.

"Two of my girls are pregnant due to you and your brother," she announced, her voice dripping with malice. "And I want you to take responsibility."

Thomas was stunned. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "That's impossible," he sputtered. "There is no way that you could know that it was my brother and I"

Madam Blossom shrugged. "Unfortunately for you, I know it was the two of you. Customers have been light due to the famine. The point is, you're the father, and you're going to pay."

She outlined her demands, a hefty sum of money or him and his brother taking responsibility for the children. Thomas was horrified. "My brother has just married and can't bring another woman's child into his home with a new wife," Thomas said trying to keep his voice low. "And I don't have enough money to meet your demands."

The Madam looked toward the door bored. "Then one of you pays and the other takes the child, I do not care. But you must decide by the end of the week."

Thomas glared at her. "How do I know you are not lying?"

The Madam met his gaze and waved her hand toward the door. "Please, look for yourself."

Thomas quickly went outside and found Una, the woman from that night. He looked down and saw her belly right away, but still couldn't believe it.

"Una," he began, his voice barely a whisper. "Is it true? Is that child mine?"

She nodded, her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Thomas," she said. "I begged the Madam not to involve you. Women in my line of work get pregnant all the time, but she is desperate for money. And if she can't get that she would rather not have another mouth to feed."

Thomas's heart ached for her, and for the child she carried. He felt her stomach and felt the child moving around. He whispered as a tear fell down his face. "What do I do?"