As soon as the sun came up, my mother was brought in by a horse carriage. She had to come with my baby brother, for she could not leave him alone. The Baron himself waited down the doorstep and opened the carriage when it arrived.

“Thank you, thank you so much for coming at such short notice.” He thanked her profusely and led the way into the manor. Mother was, naturally, very confused. She had walked to the manor during the night when the meteorite fell in the garden. After seeing with her own eyes, everyone was safe, she had returned home to get some rest. Only a few hours later, she woke up to an urgent knocking on the door.

“René, what is this about?”

Mother asked me when I joined her in the corridor. We stopped in front of the door to the Baroness’s chamber.

“Good morning, mother.”

“René, what-”

I shushed her and bowed to the Baron.

“I leave her in your care then,” he gave me a nod and left. But he spun around after only a couple of steps and came back. The Baron knocked on the door and went in. About a minute later, he walked out with a blissful smile on his face. He cooed over my baby brother in mother’s arms before finally leaving for real.

“Mother, you will not ask a single question. You will not talk to anyone about what you see in this room… at least for now.”

She opened her mouth to say something but was stopped by the sound that came from behind the door. Anna was fussing. Mother’s jaw dropped, and she looked at me with surprised eyes.

Later in my life, during my journey outside the Roseland, I was often told I had a very high expectation of how a noblewoman should be. Oh, they didn’t know the Baroness. Had I been a bard, I would have modeled the goddesses of my songs after her. Well, OK, that wouldn’t have worked, for I knew pretty well about the real goddesses. But still. The Baroness was the epitome of noble grace. She oozed elegance, yet remained humble. She understood her privileges came with responsibilities. And most importantly, she knew the value of the people of the Roseland. “Our Roseland is not of La Rose. We the La Rose are of the Roseland,” she told me once. So I was not surprised that she insisted mother feed my baby brother first. Only when he was full and satisfied then and then only she would gratefully accept mother sharing whatever she had left to Anna.

The Baroness sat there with Anna in her arms, watching mother feeding my baby brother. Knowing mother had birthed nine children, she asked many questions; what to do when the baby has a high fever. The proper way to bathe. And many more. Mother told the Baroness many things. For example, one had to gently rub a baby’s back upward after feeding so it would burp, letting out the air that went down the digestive tract while sucking. But one had to be careful not to rub, or pat, too strong; that would make the baby throw up all over one’s shoulder and chest. Mother told many more of such useful tips and know-how.

While they were talking, I bobbed up and down and made funny faces and sounds standing before Anna in the Baroness’s arms. She was hungry and was fussing and kept burying her head into the Baroness’s bosom only to be disappointed. The distraction I was making eventually lost its effectiveness, but thankfully mother was done with my brother by then. She handed over the little baby brother to me and took Anna into her arms and started to feed the child of not her own. The Baroness enviously watched me pacing around the room. I had my baby brother in my arms; I gently rocked and whispered songs and toyed with his fingers, trying to keep him occupied.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to how I was as a baby, and my mother told many embarrassing stories about the period of my life when I had no motor control over my own body. They ‘Oh, no’ed and ‘Aw~’ed as if two good old friends at my embarrassing expenses.

When mother was done with Anna, a maid led her to another room to rest and be alone with the baby brother. The Baroness had, in fact, not known an infant had to be fed every so often and had initially planned to have mother return home. The veteran mom corrected the situation by insisting she stay for the day. But then eventually, she would have to return to the family in a day or two. Mother suggested that she talk to other women in the town who were producing milk; Some kind of a rotation system would have to be established. The Baroness thanked and accepted, and added that she would see to it such that proper compensations for the mothers be provided in due time.

Mother went to rest, but I stayed with the Baroness, for we had one big issue to take care of… or at least be prepared to face; the inevitable question everyone would start to ask once they learn of Anna’s existence. The root cause of the issue was that the Baroness had been in public eyes very often. Nobody had seen her with a big tummy nor heard anything about her being pregnant. In fact, it had been widely known across the Roseland that the La Rose were not blessed with an offspring despite great efforts. All these led to one inevitable question; where did this baby come from? The last thing we wanted was a rumor going around accusing the Baron and the Baroness of stealing a newborn baby.

I gave her my idea, and after much deliberation, the Baroness approved. I was about to leave for a meeting with the Baron and his council, but the Baroness stopped me. I turned around and saw the Baroness playing with Anna’s tiny fingers.

“Yes, Your Ladyship?”

“René, I count on you to look after your sister,” she said absentmindedly without looking my way.

I corked my head and waited for clarification, somewhat confused. After a while, the Baroness noticed I had not answered and turned her head towards me, a bright smile still lingering on her face. Then she blinked several times and realized what she had said.

“Oops. Do excuse me. Just a slip of my tongue,” she tried to brush it off as casually as possible, “what I meant was; would you look after Anna as if she was your own sister?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My duties to the La Rose and Firis had just converged into one; what a bitter yet convenient outcome. Bitter, because the process had cost my friend’s life. I opened my eyes again. Anna was wriggling in her newly acquired mother’s arms. ‘What a tiny little thing,’ I thought. I glanced upward and saw the Baroness’ face. She looked tired and sleepless, her eyes bloodshot and sunken from having stayed up all night. Yet I had never seen her face so happy. There was an invisible light of vigor and new-found purpose emanating from her being. I found myself bowing and accepting Her Ladyship’s request.

###

I must have dozed off in the carriage. The majordome woke me up with a gentle pat on my little shoulder. Yawning and stretching, I got off the carriage and onto the street of my hometown. Unfortunately, I had much to do and were not planning to go visit father's tavern today. I came with the majordome and the Baron's solicitor, and we were all drained and sleepy. Nobody had slept the previous night, and we had much to do. We nodded to each other and separated. The majordome went to get stuff ready for the priest's funeral. The solicitor headed to the town's office to advise on the proper mourning protocol. The entire kingdom was to go into three months of mourning for the loss of Her Majesty; that generally meant dressing modestly and not partying. There would be certain things that we were not allowed to do for a while, such as dancing and singing, but the Baron had sighed and told us he had no intention to enforce such prohibition on the simple people. It would be 'unofficially' just the Baron's manor and those who held official positions.

"Nevertheless, we have lost our Queen. Tell the folks to be sensible," he had said. I doubted ordinary folks of the Roseland cared about Her Majesty, though. As far as they were concerned, the La Rose were their royal family.

I was on my way to master Pascal's atelier. He had done some paintings for the Baron, and I was to commission him a new job. Once approved by the Baroness, I had presented my idea to the Baron and the council. It was unanimously decided we would go with it. Hence, my visit to master Pascal.

"I heard about the last night," was the first thing he said to me, "Is everyone alright?"

Tired, I nodded and sat myself down on a small stool. It was covered in dried oil paint, but I did not mind. Pascal brought me hot tea in a small wooden cup. The tea was strong and fragrant, just what I needed.

"I am, in fact, here to ask you to paint what happened last night."

"Well, I guess it was a... memorable event."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," I gestured for him to take notes.

The painting would depict the Baron, and the Baroness knelt on the ground of the rose garden. In front of a large rosebud, which was blossoming in full in the middle of the night. The two nobles were to be grateful. Almost tearful even. Their hands outstretched towards the large rose. The people of the manor were watching in awe, some praying, some crying in joy.

"What-"

"Keep listening," I said and continued. Alas, from the night sky, a group of jealous demons hurled a meteorite onto the rose, but surrounded by holy light, the brave priest, may he rest in peace, pushed the meteorite off to aside, saving everyone.

"What in the name of-"

"And!" I was approaching the grand finale. The centerpiece. "And amidst all this, there is a baby girl sleeping inside the rosebud. A gift. A gift from the Roseland!"

"My God!"

Pascal read his notes, again and again, his eyes wide. Then he began to outline a rough composition of the scene on a blank sheet, mumbling to himself. After some minutes, he remembered my presence and looked up.

"Is that what happened?"

"That is exactly what happened."

Master Pascal studied his notes again.

"And the baby?"

"Rejoice, for our blessed Barony has an heiress. The precious gift from our generous land shall be known as lady Anna La Rose."

That information hit the man hard. I could see him charging up with excitement. He clasped his hands before his chest, and bobbed up and down on his stool, and rolled his feet on the colorful floor. I saw a teardrop rolling down on his cheek.

"His Lordship... the Baroness... They have waited for so long!"

I tapped on his shoulder as I stood up.

"Keep it quiet for now. The last thing we want right now is the entire Roseland going into a celebratory festive when we are, in fact, supposed to be mourning for Her Majesty."

Before leaving the atelier, I turned around. Pascal had gone quiet and was still on his stool, mouth ajar, staring into the empty space, trying to imagine the miraculous event that I had fabricated. Satisfied, I left the atelier and stepped out into the town's street. I stood there for a moment and watched people going on about their businesses.

Folks were simple, but that did not mean we could ignore what simple things they came up with in their heads. They had known for years the Baroness had been unsuccessful in producing an heir. They saw the meteorite falling with their own eyes. Simple folks were superstitious, and a meteorite thus was regarded as a bad omen, something that was generally associated with death and devastation. A meteor fell unto the Baron's manor. The same manor where the revered priest died the very same moment. Then the news came Her Majesty had passed away. And the Baron and the Baroness suddenly acquired a baby girl? Put these into the careless rumor machine, and we would end up with Anna becoming a cursed hellspawn in the people's eyes. That would not be completely untrue, considering what I had been forced to go through for her sake, but I could not just sit there and allow the La Rose's name get tarnished. The Baron and the Baroness deserved better.

Once mother returned home, she would talk to other moms and organize a rotating shift that would keep Anna fed. In no time the words would spread; mothers of the town are sharing their milk to the Baron's baby daughter. Pascal would eventually have to come over to the manor to see the baby himself, but before that, he would go talk to the mothers, demanding them to describe the baby girl. And, oh, I was so sure he would talk. About his new commission. And the mothers would, upon returning to the manor to feed baby Anna, ask around if what they heard from Pascal were true. And the people of the manor would just smile and keep quiet, which would be even more effective than a simple yes. By the time the Baron revealed Anna to the public, the entire Roseland would already know what had happened that night. Of her existence and where Anna came from. How she was a gift from the good land to its master. How the honorable priest had heroically saved the precious gift to the La Rose family from the jealous demons.

There, Firis, not even a day has passed since your coming, yet I have already made you a myth, your birth a legend. The entirety of the Roseland will bow their heads down before you and pray to God you be well. A whole new breed of rose named after you will be created to celebrate you. Firis- no, Anna, are you truly worth it? Can you live up to the great La Rose's namesake?

###

The funeral for my old friend was modest yet full, and that was all I could remember; I cried too much. He was a good man. Not only my friend, but a mentor, a teacher, and also the closest thing to a grandpa I had ever had in this life. I remember, though, that the townsfolk silently lined up in a long winding queue to offer roses and prayers, many weeping. I was glad my friend was loved by many.

The Baron had written a letter informing of the priest’s death and had it sent to the Circle of God’s Worshipers. We did not expect a replacement cleric would come anytime soon, though, for the Roseland was very remote and undesirably far away from the important places, where things mattered. If someone new indeed came, he would be either really dedicated to God or, more likely, an unfortunate young rookie, who got the unpopular post shoved unto him.

I honestly had no idea how to cope with the emotion; I was already saddened with the loss of the old priest, and on top of that, there was an ever-present gloomy mood in the air as the kingdom had lost Her Majesty. It was Anna the sweet little baby that brightened up the atmosphere at the manor, but on the other hand, I knew who she was, so I had a bit of reservation. The Baron and his wife wore solemn faces when they were in public view, for they were supposed to be mourning for the queen. However, when they were among trusted people, they made no attempts in hiding their smiles despite lack of sleep and sunken dark eyes, something every parent experience when they have a newborn baby.

After a few weeks of bringing in mothers to the manor, each spending at least a day, the Baroness finally had had enough.

“I am causing too much trouble for these women,” she said and announced she and Anna would take a temporary residence in the town, close to the breasts that fed Anna. The mothers and Pascal had done their job as per my scheme, and by now, the entire Barony was aware of Anna’s existence; how the roses had spawned and gifted her to the master of the namesake land. Whenever somebody from the manor went out, they were surrounded by people and were asked to confirm the rumor. I, too, was swarmed when I went to father’s tavern to pre-arrange rooms for the Baroness and her maids.

“Wait and see,” was all I said, and that was enough to make the folks ecstatic.

I had no idea how they knew it, but on the day the Baroness moved out, excited people lined up on both sides of the road from the manor to the town, craning their necks to see up the road in anticipation. Town officials had to go up and down the line, reminding people that we were supposed to be grieving for Her Majesty. Needless to say, they weren’t very successful. The subjects of the Roseland had waited for years. For too long. As a peasant boy myself, I understood the folks. Words had gotten out that the Baroness and the baby were coming to live among common people; The precious gift was coming to them! Not only that. The idea of the future Baroness being breastfed by the mothers of the Roseland gave a special feeling to the folks. It made them immensely proud, for their future was now literally in their hands… or rather, bosoms. Interestingly, as a side effect of the whole thing, boys and men, who had previously been ignorant, were now well informed that a woman couldn’t just pop her breast and squeeze milk out at will. I heard some interesting stories about doubting men nibbling on virgin nipples to test the biological fact. I could not decide which was more amusing, the general ignorance of the common men, or the fact that somebody shared such naughty stories to a four-year-old child.

We had readied three carriages. I was riding shotgun on the lead of the column, with three young, excited maids back in the carriage. The second one was stacked with the luggage for the maids and the Baroness, and finally the third, the end of the column, carried the Baron’s family.

“I will be back in a few days,” said the Baron to the majordome before getting on. Once he was settled next to the Baroness in the carriage, we started to move.

And it was amazing. As soon as we rolled past the manor’s rose garden and got on the road, we were greeted by the cheering crowd on both sides of the road, tossing colorful rose petals in the air that gently fell like large fragrant snowflakes. I caught one and examined it. To my amusement, it was very well dried, a sign that the folks had been preparing for this day. The rose petal delicately crumbled in my hand and exploded into fine dust, sweetening the air with its scent.

Town officials ran up and down and tried shouting over the noise, begging people to please calm down and remember that Her Majesty had recently passed away, but to no avail. The Baron and the Baroness made it even more difficult as they stuck their heads out the window and waved.

People lined up all the way from the manor to my humble hometown. I suspected folks from other towns and villages had come because, as far as I could tell, the crowd gathered in front of the manor alone was already more than the entire population of the town. As the column of the carriages rolled past, folks on the sides of the road filled in behind the Baron’s carriage and followed on foot, chanting, singing, praying, and some even crying. We had to slow down because if we went too fast, the people behind us would have to run all the way to the town to follow the carriages.

Eventually, we reached the town, and I was shocked to find the place was in a festive mode; barrels of meads and ales on the streets and chicken and pork barbecues at every junction. And my God, the roses. Roses everywhere. Dried rose petals were suspended in the air like a slow blizzard, and those that crumbled into fine dust reflected the sun and sparkled like fairy wings.

The small plaza in front of father’s tavern was packed with people dancing to fiddles and lutes. Upon seeing us, they stopped and cheered so loudly it was deafening. I spotted a town’s official and called him over.

“What is this? This goes directly against the Royal Order!”

“Exactly! But what can I do?” walking along my carriage, the man shrugged and motioned for me to look around. I did. Right, there was no way anyone could stop this.

“In three months, we have to celebrate the twin princes! How are we going to top this?” I had to shout over the noise. The man, once again, shrugged.

“Screw the princes. They are nothing but trouble in the making!”

“What? Why?”

“You don’t know because you are a child. But you will see,” with that, the man disappeared into the crowd.

I wanted to think about it, but I couldn’t. We came to a stop in front of the tavern. The Baron got off first and helped the Baroness off the carriage. She had baby Anna in her arms, and as soon as the folks saw the heiress, they clapped and cheered and cried in joy and loudly prayed to God that the baby be blessed. The fiddles and lutes were going crazy with a new-found vigor, and the delicate rose petals snowed on our heads, and I saw people crunching small glass vials of rose perfumes, very expensive stuff, and splashing the fragrant liquid to baby Anna’s general direction with delighted shrieks of bliss. The man was right to some degree, I thought. Screw the twin royal princes on their gold-embroidered cushions and wrapped in scented silks. The Roseland now had its own princess, and she was right here on the street with her people.

###

A few days after the Baroness and Anna had settled down in the tavern, the Baron returned to the manor. Whereas the rest of the Barony was still a bit high from celebrating Anna, the Baron prepared for his departure for the capital. With a horse-driven carriage, the journey would still take a couple of weeks if he traveled non-stop except stopping at nights. But the Baron had plans to stop by and visit several acquaintances on the way. That meant a long time spent on the road. And presents; mostly rose-related items such as scented oils, perfumes, soap bars, and high-quality seeds in small silk pouches. Luxury goods of the Roseland that were highly sought after throughout the kingdom.

Since he was mandated to attend the celebration party for the twin princes as well, which was to be held two months after the mourning period for the Queen, there wasn’t much point for him to return to the Barony right after Her Majesty’s funeral service. Overall, the travel and his stay in the capital combined, the Baron was expecting to spend about six months out of his Barony.

“To be honest, I do not much care about the ceremonies,” he said on the day before his departure. The primary objective of the Baron was to get a feel for how the rest of the kingdom, especially the nobles of significant influences, were coping with the birth of the princes.

“I do not quite understand,” I confessed. The Baron smiled wryly and ruffled up my hair with his big hand.

“Generally, when it comes to the Royal Throne, especially because it is about the throne, twin heirs mean trouble.”

I stood there in silence, digesting what he said. The Baron smiled again.

“As the ruler of this land, I must keep our Roseland out of that trouble.”

I wanted to ask some more but stopped there as the Baron was in a hurry to go to father’s tavern for the evening. He wished to dine with his wife and spend the night with the family before leaving the next morning. Had it been some other occasion, I would have tagged along for the evening and spend the night with my own family, but I too had many things to take care of for the remainder of the day.

I was surprised to learn that both the majordome and the solicitor were going to accompany the Baron to the capital. That meant the manor and the Barony, too, would be headless for up to half a year; in such times, the Baroness would usually take the helm in the Baron’s court, but as she was now she had her hands full with an infant girl. I was even more surprised when the Baron told me he had decided, upon the recommendation by the majordome, that he would leave me in charge.

“But worry not, my lad, for you will not be alone,” the Baron winked and added the treasurer would help me out with important matters. But still… I silently questioned the decision. Yes, despite my age, I had about seventeen years of previous life under my belt, but that didn’t mean I should automatically be qualified to manage the manor, let alone the Barony. The very thought of it, all those responsibilities and consequences, made me sick and so nervous I felt like throwing up. What was even more sickening was that not a single soul among all the sensible and responsible adults surrounding the Baron was objecting.

To be honest, my second life had not been very fair in terms of what was asked of me. I was born to keep a fading goddess alive. I then was asked to look after that said goddess, the source of all my troubles, as if my own kin. And now I was asked to look after the Barony, which, incidentally, the said goddess would inherit at some point in the future; the freaking Barony, where one simple mistake from my part would burn an unimaginable amount of golds and thousands of livelihoods! A freaking four-year-old child! What next, I wondered. Save the kingdom?

The next morning the Baron’s council, including me, was ferried to the town, to father’s tavern. The Baron and his family were already having breakfast at a round table. Both the Baron and the Baroness had that distinctive look of not having slept very well. I suspected it had something to do with that wriggling baby girl in the basket placed on a stool next to the Baroness. Mother was sitting at another table, breastfeeding my baby brother. The majordome and the solicitor sat with me at a small table. The treasurer and the Baroness’ chief maid sat at the next table, discussing something. For a reason vague to me, I felt whole. Complete. I could not quite put it into words, but it felt like THESE were my family.

Father came out from the kitchen, carrying two bowls of soups in one hand and a large loaf of bread in the other. Through the open door, I could hear my brothers and sisters talking in the kitchen. Father’s and my eyes met, and he gave me a good smile.

“Son, please do help me.”

I excused myself from my colleagues, stood up, and headed to the kitchen, stopping by mother for a brief second to squeeze my baby brother’s marshmallow cheeks. I also stopped by Anna, and cooed over her for a bit, and tickled her toes the size of small corn kernels, and as I was doing so, the Baroness patted me on my back. In the kitchen, my siblings were cutting vegetables and washing dishes and stirring pots. They greeted me upon seeing me enter the kitchen, and we chatted about small things. I helped father bringing soups and hams and loaves of bread and porridges out to the hall, and everyone had a nice filling meal.