I Gave Birth To A Panther

People always said that childbirth was a near-death experience and that a woman had to endure unbearable pain.

However, I barely felt a thing. With just a couple of pushes, the babies were born.

My mother, however, let out a piercing scream. It was as if she had seen something terrifying.

At the same time, something felt off. Why did it feel furry?

I forced myself up and looked down. In that instant, my soul nearly left my body.

There were two leopard cubs. Their bodies were covered in black rosette patterns.

Their coats were glossy and bright. They were clearly prime leopards.

Still, they were not human.

I went completely stiff and turned to my mother. “Do we have monster blood in our family line?”

She snapped out of her daze and quickly denied it. “What nonsense! Our family has been nothing but honest farmers for generations. Monsters are just folk tales.”

I pointed at the two leopard cubs on the bed. “Then, how do you explain them?”

My mother looked at me, then at them. She said in a panic, “A woman giving birth to animals is an evil omen. No one can ever find out, or the villagers will drown you in the river.”

My mother wrapped up the two leopards with a cloth. She was going to throw them behind the mountain to feed the wolves.

The little ones had no idea what was coming. They stretched lazily. They were clumsy and adorable as they stared right at me with their big, watery blue eyes.

That one look melted my heart on the spot.

I quickly reached out and stopped my mother.

“Mother, no matter what, I carried them for nine months. They’re my flesh and blood. I can’t just watch them die.”

My mother hesitated. “But if someone finds out…”

I looked at her and begged, “Just tell people I gave birth to a stillborn and buried it. Say that we picked these two up from somewhere. No one will know.”

Just like that, the cubs stayed.

After how their father broke my heart, I had completely lost faith in men. I planned to spend the rest of my life alone with my two leopards.

However, seven days after I gave birth, a group of royal guards suddenly arrived at my house with a royal carriage.

“We’ve come under His Majesty’s orders to escort Miss Elena Foster to the palace to become his queen.”

I stared at the decree in their hands. The handwriting was identical to the letter my children’s father had left behind. I was so shocked I could not even utter a word.

The man I had picked up by the roadside turned out to be the king.

The captain of the guards glanced at my flat stomach and asked respectfully, “Before we left, His Majesty said Miss Elena was already carrying royal blood. Where is the heir?”

I instinctively looked toward the house. My mother quickly answered for me, saying, “Elena gave birth to a stillborn seven days ago. We’ve buried it.”