What do you think of this as a prologue for a novel? Right now it's a short story written entirely in letter format, but I'm thinking of expanding it to novel format with letters throughout. I just want to see what kind of interest it draws. Thanks.
18 July 1351
Dearest One,
Tis late. All is dark about me and this single candle my only companion. I record here tonight the joy I will soon know. I have only recently left your father's bed and though I loathe him with all my being, he has given me one thing I will cherish above any other. The proof grows beneath my breast even now.
I have not in all my years of marriage conceived a child. I despaired that I was barren and would never know the joy of motherhood. Now, though the circumstances of your conception are not as I would wish, I will present this gift to my husband and he will never know you do not belong to him by blood.
But you, my child, must know. You must avenge the wrong committed this night. You must never forget the reason you are here. You must never forget the one who has caused so much pain. The one who gave you life.
25 September 1351
The physician has just left. It has been confirmed now. I am to have a child. Now tis time to tell Malcolm and I am frightened. What should happen if he suspects? But I must be strong. I will tell him now and he will believe you belong to him. You will grow strong beneath my breast and you will be delivered to Malcolm as his child. He will raise you to be a courageous, honorable Knight. And I will teach you all you need to know to defeat your father.
10 October 1351
My husband boasts of his good fortune. He tells all who will listen of the pending birth of his son. I do not regret my decision. He will make you a wonderful father and will love you as well as any other. Even now he plans that you will become a Knight. I do not oppose this idea; tis what I wish as well. You will be trained well and you will learn quickly. All will be as it should.
18, April 1352
Your birth will soon be upon me. I grow weary and the pains come closer. The midwife has been summoned and Malcolm paces like a lion before the fire as he waits. Back and forth, back and forth; he refuses to be calmed. He does not understand when I tell him you will make a fine entrance. He worries for I have been barren these many years, but I am calm. I know that you will be delivered to me soon. I have no fear for I know all will be well.
The pains become greater. The midwife has not yet arrived and I begin to feel weak. Malcolm tries to help, but he knows not what to do. I feel you move and I know you will live, but I fear now for myself. It has been many hours since the pains began and I want to sleep, but I know I must not. I must be assured of your birth before I give myself to the blackness.
~ I am my own heroine ~
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