Stolen Children of The Hidden Queen by Tessa Kelwyn
Stolen Children of The Hidden Queen
Description
Lady Rosetta has endured years of heartbreak as Crown Prince Leander's first wife-eight pregnancies lost, each one carving a deeper chasm between them. When he takes beautiful Countess Cecily as his second wife, Rosetta accepts her fate with quiet dignity. But everything changes the day she finally delivers healthy twin sons. Crown Prince Leander presents the twins to the kingdom as Cecily's heirs, branding Rosetta a madwoman who gave birth to stillborns and tried to steal another woman's babies. Banished and hunted, Rosetta escapes into the wilderness where Lord Kyrell saves her life. At Duke Phideus's estate, a dying king's final gift-a mysterious medallion-reveals a truth that shatters everything: Rosetta is no minor noblewoman.
Chapter 1
Apr 9, 2026
Rosetta’s POV
If I don't give him a living heir this time, my beloved husband will get rid of me. Or worse.
Because, as a Crown Prince of Reaton, Leander could do to me whatever he’d please.
Because I’m the wife who couldn’t give him an heir for over six years of childless marriage. I’m the woman who couldn’t fulfil her main duty before her husband and her kingdom. I’m the shame that follows him in the royal court like his own shadow.
The thought circles through my mind like a prayer, or a curse.
My body convulses with another contraction, and I scream—a raw, animal sound that echoes off the stone walls of my bedchamber. The pain is beyond anything I've ever known, and I've known plenty of pain.
Five miscarriages. Three stillbirths. Eight times I've felt life slip away from me, watched Leander's blue eyes grow colder with each loss, felt his love calcify into emotionless duty.
If I don't give him a living heir this time, my beloved husband will get rid of me. I know that.
"Push, my lady!" The head midwife's voice cuts through the agony. "The baby is crowning. You must push now!"
I bear down with everything I have left, feeling something inside me tear. The metallic taste of blood floods my mouth where I've bitten through my lip. Sweat plasters my hair to my face, my neck.
I can't breathe, can't think—there's only the pain, splitting me apart from the inside.
Across the castle, in chambers far grander than mine, Countess Cecily labors too. Leader’s second wife. The beautiful, young, fertile replacement he took when it became clear I couldn't give him what he needed.
She's only been his wife for less than a year, and already she's delivering. Already succeeding where I've failed eight times.
If I don't give him a living heir this time…
"Again, my lady! Push!"
I push. I push until I'm certain my body will break completely, until the world narrows to nothing but white-hot agony. Then… A cry. Not my own this time—a baby's cry.
The sound freezes my heart mid-beat, then sends it racing so fast I think it might burst. I hear the midwives moving, speaking quickly to each other, but I can't make out the words over the rushing in my ears.
That cry—that tiny, furious wail—it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.
"Milady…" the younger midwife says, and her voice sounds strange. Careful. "You have a son."
She places him on my chest for a first contact, and I sob. Great, heaving sobs that shake my entire body. He's so small, so perfect, squirming against my skin with his tiny fists curled.
And he's alive. He's alive. After eight angel babies, eight times watching Leander's face close off a little more, eight times dying inside myself… this child lives.
"Leander," I breathe, my voice cracking. "Someone fetch the Crown Prince. Tell him… Tell my husband we have a son. Tell him—"
"My lady, there's another." The head midwife's hand presses against my shoulder. "The second one is coming!"
The words don't register at first, but then my body contracts again, and I understand.
Two. Second child. Not one miracle but two.
Double the blessing. Double the salvation.
They take my first son from my arms to clean him, and I want to scream at them to bring him back, but another contraction tears through me. I push again, and this time it's faster, easier. Or perhaps I'm just too shattered to feel it the same way.
Another cry fills the room, this one even louder than the first. "Another boy!"
Two sons. I've given Leander two sons, two living heirs.
The realization crashes over me like a wave. This changes everything. Cecily may have delivered today too, but she can't compete with this. Two healthy heirs, two living boys.
This will bring Leander back to me. This will bring back to life our love. His love.
This will make him remember how he used to look at me when we were younger. Like I was his whole world, like he couldn't breathe without me.
This will restore what we lost somewhere between the third miscarriage and the fourth. What crumbled to dust after the last stillbirth when he stopped visiting my chambers altogether.
Perhaps he'll even divorce Cecily now. Send her back to her father's estate. Why would he need a second wife when his first has finally given him not one but two healthy sons?
The thought flutters in my chest like a desperate bird.
"Milady." The younger midwife approaches, and my first son is in her arms, wrapped in soft linen. "Would you like to hold him while we clean his brother?"
"Yes." My voice comes out thick with tears. "Please… Please, let me hold him."
She places him in my arms with surprising gentleness, and I cradle him close, drinking in every detail.
His tiny nose, so perfect it doesn't seem real. His delicate mouth. His miniature fingers, each one tipped with the smallest nail I've ever seen.
He's perfect. He's mine. He’s ours. The result of our love and hopes.
I shift the linen slightly, needing to see all of him, to confirm he's whole and healthy. That's when I see it on his arm—a familiar birthmark. Small and distinctive, it looks like a little four point star.
My breath catches. I have the same birthmark, in the exact same place, the same shape. With trembling fingers, I trace the mark, and something fierce and primal surges through me.
This is my son. My miracle. My redemption.
"Isn't he beautiful?" I whisper to the midwife, my voice breaking. "Look at him… He's perfect. They're both perfect. Send word to the Crown Prince immediately. Tell him to come. Tell him I've given him two sons. Tell him—"
Suddenly hands close around my baby.
"What…" I try to hold on, but the younger midwife is already lifting him from my arms. "Wait, what are you doing? I need to feed him, I need—"
"We must examine them both thoroughly, my lady." The head midwife's voice is smooth, practiced. "To ensure they're healthy. You need to rest now, you've lost a great deal of blood."
"But…" My arms feel impossibly empty, cold and wrong. "Where are you taking them? Just examine them here. I want to see—"
"It's standard procedure, my lady." She's already moving toward the door with both babies now, the younger midwife following close behind. "We'll return shortly with a full report for the Crown Prince. Try to sleep."
"No!" I try to sit up, but my body screams in protest. Everything hurts, everything feels wrong. "Wait! Where are you taking my sons? I heard them crying—they're healthy. There's no need to—"
The head midwife pauses at the door. For just a moment, her eyes meet mine, and something in her expression makes my blood turn to ice.
Not sympathy, not concern, but something cold and calculating. Something that doesn't belong on the face of a woman who's just helped deliver two healthy heirs to the throne.
"Your sons, my lady?" Her voice is soft, almost pitiful. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. The examination will determine everything. Rest now."
She turns away, and I hear it—so quiet I almost think I've imagined it. The younger midwife leaning close to her superior, whispering as they slipped through the doorway: "The lady will be pleased with us…"
"Wait!" I try to call out, but my voice cracks, comes out as barely more than a whisper. "Come back! Bring me my sons! Bring them—"
The door closes with a soft click just as darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision, pulling me down despite my desperate attempts to fight it. My body has nothing left. I've given everything to bring those babies into this world alive.
Before the darkness swallows me whole there are the questions that will haunt my dreams: Where did they take my sons? What lady will be pleased?
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Stolen Children of The Hidden Queen
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