Not many had known she would deliver that day. The sky was cloudy, rumbling softly, warning of an approaching storm.
Helen lay on the bed, drenched in sweat, pain surging through her body. Her screams echoed through the small room as the midwife pressed a damp cloth to her forehead.
"Keep pushing!" the midwife urged.
The baby showed no sign of coming, yet his tiny feet kicked fiercely inside her. Blood flowed faster than lightning, and Helen's strength began to fade. Her vision blurred.
Then came one last scream - raw, piercing, desperate.
Moments later, the cry of a newborn filled the room.
"It's a boy!" the midwife exclaimed, smiling as she lifted the baby.
"What shall you name him?"
"Axel," Helen whispered weakly.
"Let's hope his father will be happy to see him," the midwife said softly.
Helen's face fell.
"Look, Helen," the woman continued, "you've made mistakes, but reality doesn't wait for regrets. You're a mother now - and perhaps a single one. If he doesn't accept this child, all responsibility falls on you."
Helen nodded, tears streaking her cheeks. Outside, thunder cracked and rain began to fall, heavy and relentless.
"You need rest," the midwife said gently. "I'll take care of the baby."
---
In another block, six hours later, another woman gave birth.
"Your Highness," a nurse said, "what shall you name him?"
The man smiled faintly. "Irys," he said. "I like the sound of that name."