I knew that my fears far outweighed their likelihood, as I was often reminded by the scarred palomino mare that accompanied me, but I couldn't help but tremble in terror as my contractions grew in intensity. Even Naz's steadying company was not enough to quiet my troubled mind. What-ifs plagued me at each turn, and I wished that I had my beloved at my side to soothe me through this process. What if our son was dead? What if he was injured? What if I died? Would Naz or Indira or Sidika take care of my son?

"Naz, my dearest friend," I murmur, allowing my worries to take me for a moment. Sidika had brusquely assured me earlier that I would not perish in her care, but I could not shake the knowledge that my life had so far been a mass convergence of fates. Perhaps my luck would run out now. Wide-eyed, I turn to my friend, imploring her to promise me that she would take care of my baby. "Will you care for my child if the worst happens?"

I knew that she would, but a new worry plagued me. Who would take care of Antares if I was gone? Would Indira be able, or even willing, to pull him from the dark hole of grief?

Sidika, who had stashed her own leggy newborn son with his father for a time as soon as my pains had started, promised me that I would not wish for his presence in a few hours. This, more than anything, made me fear the actual birth, despite her assurances that she was there to make sure that it went smoothly for me. Was birth really so bad that I would not want my Husband here with me? Wasn't birth described as a miracle?

Still, husbands were not allowed at the bedside of laboring wives even in my own religion and I had shooed him away in keeping with such ideas. I may have done away with many of the outdated beliefs of my homeland, but I had kept this one... just in case.

"Do you think he will come fast?" I ask my small audience of Maslakhat's healer and my friend. The golden mare fusses around me, and her lips purse into an expression I cannot read. I am not sure what to make of this mare, with her curt, non-flowery words and businesslike behavior. She does not coddle me with soft words or kindness, but I can feel her care in the way she barks at me to chew this root, or to drink this tea. With a shake of her head, healer Sidika snorts at me and gestures to the things she had placed before me. "She will come easy if you eat, Princess."

I turn to look at Naz for reassurance again, drawing strength from her comforting presence. As I ponder Sidika's words, I frown at the realization that she thought I was having a girl. I knew that I would love the child, no matter what I had, but I desperately hoped to be able to give my beloved a son. It would never replace the one that he had lost to the Temple, but I thought that it might help to begin the healing of his wounded heart. Tipping my ears back, I lift my chin up and address her again. "Why do you think it is a girl?" I turn from the food she has provided me to stare at the swell of my midsection with longing. "I wanted to give my Husband a prince of his own."

The palomino snorted and came close to where I lay upon the ground. She felt along my belly, gesturing to the lower swell of my barrel, where I was the widest. "You carry bebek here, low. And you are picky," she gestures brusquely again to the bitter herb I have been slowly eating. My nose wrinkles as I stare at it, lacking the appetite to eat it. "Eat, Princess, quickly. Your girl will come soon."

---

She was right, of course. My daughter had arrived shortly after our last conversation, and while some of the process had been a blur, dampened by the heady effects of the tea she had forced me to drink from the small coconut shell, I remembered enough of it to know that Antares had no part in it. Not the tears, or the pain, or the anger as I fought my own body to expel my beloved girl onto the Dunes soil. Even now, as I lay quietly alone in the steadying presence of my best friend, with my daughter napping at my side, I could still feel the strong push of emotions that had flowed through me during the process.

I had not named her yet, even though I had already bathed and nursed her with the instruction of Sidika. I wanted to save such a precious moment for my beloved Antares, but I did not have it in me to rise, not yet. I could not stop staring at the perfection of our daughter. Each flutter of her delicate lashes as she dreamed brought an answering lift to my lips. I waited with baited breath for the rise of her ribs as she took a breath, and studied the slender whiskers on her muzzle until the last drops of milk evaporated from them. I buried my muzzle against her rump and drank in her sweet newborn scent, sure that I would burst for love of this tiny, perfect creature. I knew of every spot of white on her little body, where her ruby red coat ended and the pristine white began. I had traced the grey goggles around her face with pride, and kissed her sweet little face too many times to count.

I looked up to Naz with a love drunk look upon my face, and smiled shyly. "Is it always like this?" I asked, my gaze drifting back down to my newborn daughter. "How can I ever think of anything else but her again?"

---

Sidika had parted from the young Arabian mare not long after she had settled in to rest, a small private smile on her lips. It was always wonderful to assist in births when they went well, and in truth, Sayyida's birth could not have been easier, although whether that was because of the care that she had administered or the filly's eagerness to arrive in the world remain unknown. The addition of a third had been strange, but not unwelcome. In truth, Sidika hadn't been entirely sure of how to handle the extra mare, but they had not gotten into each other's way and it seemed to calm the highstrung maiden, so Sid had not shooed her away.

The scarred palomino mare rose over the Dunes in search of the impatiently waiting husband, already eager to return to her own son. As the handsome Arabian came into view, her face neutralized and she inclined her head in greeting, her voice a throaty murmur as she spoke. "She and the child are well and resting." She said by way of greeting, possessing none of the flowery honorifics the girl had initially showered upon her at their first meeting. It was probably safe for him to descend to meet her, but in truth, Sid wanted to give the new mother a moment to collect her thoughts before she was responsible for dealing with the emotions of her stallion as well. "She will come to you soon."

With that, the palomino mare departed to take care of her own child, eager for the rest that awaited her. Soon Merwerit would join the ranks of new mothers as well, and Sid wanted to sleep at least a little before the next newborn toddled across the sand.

---

Unable to wait any longer, I teased the small filly awake with a gentle trace of her beautiful dished face and a play of kisses across her skin. Together we rose on wobbly legs - mine born of exhaustion, and hers of newness - and moved toward where Naz waited. I brushed her shoulder fondly, unable to put into words the amount of thankfulness I had for her presence. She had always been there for me. Not only when I had arrived, shaking, frozen, and terrified in the Commons, but in every scenario since. She was my safety blanket here, and I was glad that she had been there for my daughter's arrival as well.

I could not tell you if she followed me up the dunes, for my attention was torn between my distant husband and the new life that wobbled along at my side, using me to balance on the shifting sands. Tears of emotion flooded down my cheeks as I crested the rise and my Husband's beautiful face came into view once more and I smiled at him through them, although I did not change my pace. Our precious girl needed my strength and I would not abandon her now, or ever. "My sun and stars," I start huskily, dipping my face to our daughter as my own feet stilled. I guided the wobbly filly forward so that her hip rested against my foreleg before once more raising my face to my Husband.

"I want you to meet our daughter." My heart quivers in wait for his reaction, desperate to know what he thinks. I do not doubt that he will love her. He is too good of a man, and has loved her all along, for him to suddenly abandon her. But I fear that he will be somehow disappointed that I have not given him a son to carry on his family legacy. Ducking my face again, I tenderly touch the filly's neck, murmuring words loud enough for Antares to catch as well. "This is your father, habibti. He loves you as much as I do."

Our daughter, so new and fresh to the world, must hear the love and trust in my voice. Despite his masculine scent, and the way that he towers above her, she steps forward with bright, curious eyes and stretches her whiskered muzzle toward him with a tiny flare of her precious nostrils.