Candice was special, she was lucky, she had been chosen. That is all she had heard for the last nine months. Now the time had come for the child to be born. Desperately she kept telling herself it wasn’t her child it was theirs. The child was for the survival of the hive.
They started with the usual comments as they positioned her for the delivery. You are so very special, you must be so proud to be the chosen one. All the while she was on all fours and they were strapping her wrists and legs down. Candice didn’t feel so special as a hood was placed over her head plunging her into darkness. She wasn’t even going to get a glimpse of the child, she knew that – only the establishment team could set eyes on the future queen.
Knowing her daughter was going to rule the hive was no comfort as the labour pains ripped through her body. They called her lucky, but that luck stopped whenever she cried out and they sternly scolded her as the queen should be born in silence. She cried out again and a hand stuffed a rough gag into her mouth.
She felt their hands on her body as they guided the child into the world. She heard the doors open and close as the baby was rushed away to the royal cells. She felt her tears on her cheek as the last remaining member of the birth team removed the hood.
‘You have done well; the child is healthy and quite beautiful’ the figure in black said. ‘Rest now.’
The figure left. Candice pulled at the restraints. Why had they left her like this? Emotions swept over her and nothing would silence her cries.
The door opened. From behind her, she heard him speak. ‘The Queen is pleased. It is her decree that there should be no possibility of sibling rivalry to the throne and it is, therefore, my task to ensure that.’
A dark cloud of fear came over Candice and she fought against the restraints again. ‘You have served the hive well and will be remembered with honour.’ A sharp jab of pain in her thigh and Candice knew nothing more.
©JG Farmer 2018