Events

The day was here. Otto had perhaps never been so frightened in his life as he was now, well perhaps the last time counted as well but in this moment its hard to compare. Here he was again in Lisbon waiting outside the room where his wife Maria was set to give birth again. When he heard the news he dropped everything and travelled from Greece so that he could at the very least be here for the birth. He had done much the same when his first son was born he recalls, though unlike last time this child today would be his heir.

He had heard plenty from his council when he had returned after his sons birth about how he needed an heir and the fact his agreement meant his first born could not serve the roll had caused quite the irritation. He still believed it was the right choice of course, he was a king and a king would not be weak willed enough to simply back down from a decision of that magnitude just become some petty officials disagreed about a finer point. Thinking back he had to admit it did make things a little harder though the Greek people surprisingly didn’t take it very poorly at all, perhaps because in the end he had a child so even if he died without a proper heir there still would be someone to give the throne to. Or he thought was a small smile, perhaps if he died without issue they could put a Greek on it, that would make some of the hardliners happy he didn’t doubt. A foolish thought really as both Otto himself and most of his people knew such a thing would only spell disaster for them. Its not like the great powers would allow that, nor would the ottomans not seek to take advantage. 

The thought was admittedly useless as its likelihood was always low, yet in truth he just needed the distraction. He was not nervous at all, he was a king, and a king cannot be outwardly nervous or else his people will take that onto themselves. No, as a king Otto was calm and collected and not completely freaking out inside. He was just planning in deep thought for the future. Yes, that was it. He wasn’t just trying to ignore the screams, of course not. That would be unkingly.

After what felt like an age but had perhaps not been that long at all, Ottos train of thought is broken by a servant asking for him to follow. With the rising feeling of not-nerves did Otto follow into the room to see a sight that took his breath away a moment. There in the bed was his wife alive and well, cradled in her hands was a bundle for fabric and a tiny baby. When offered he took the bundle and he had to admit, it may have been tied with the last time as the most beautiful thing he had seen. He was only broken out of his staring by his wife’s voice 

“Hes a boy, what should we name him?”

The question threw him a moment as he thought on it, but looking deep into his sons eyes only one name seemed proper 

“Albert. His name is Albert.”