Chapter 1: Infertility

I am Wilhelmina-Elisabeth Elara, Queen of Orange, Queen of the Netherlands, and sovereign of the House of Oranje-Nassau.

I married the love of my life, Frederik, who now serves as King of the Netherlands. Our union is one of deep affection and mutual respect.

I ascended to the throne in 2005 following the passing of my beloved father at the age of 82. Since then, the royal house has exerted persistent pressure on my husband and me to produce heirs.

While we long for children, conceiving has proven to be a significant challenge for us. The truth is, we face the heartbreak of infertility.

Seeking solace and understanding, I joined a support group of married women who also struggled with conception. It was a diverse and remarkable circle, bringing together women from varied backgrounds:

Leontien IJzerhart, the wife of Sander IJzerhart, a wealthy businessman and a close friend of my husband.

Sakina Bawaki, a Dutch woman of Moroccan heritage whose grandparents immigrated to the Netherlands.

Balela Badila, a member of the prestigious Badila family, an aristocratic lineage with branches across Central, East, West, South, and North Africa, as well as East Asia. One branch is even interwoven with the Japanese Imperial Family. Incidentally, Balela's brother-in-law is married to my younger sister, further entwining the Dutch Royal House with the Badila family.

Natsumi Sawada, a Japanese woman married to a Korean man.

Marysa Graven, a Surinamese woman wed to a Dutchman.

Ismene Floratou, my dearest friend and a Greek woman married to an Iranian.

Ismene and I founded the group, and she gradually invited more friends to join. Marysa was the most recent addition to our gatherings.

We used to meet every Friday evening, sharing our experiences and supporting one another. I vividly recall our last gathering, the one that led to an extraordinary decision—our shared desire to have daughters together...

"Ah," Marysa sighed. "My husband and I tried everything under the sun to get pregnant. But nothing works out!"

"We all feel your struggle," Balela said with a sympathetic sigh.

"I'm thinking of adopting a child now," Leontien shared thoughtfully. "A less fortunate child who needs a home."

"But that won't be your biological child," Balela remarked gently.

"I'd rather also have a child that's of my own blood," Natsumi chimed in. "Maybe we should keep trying and be patient."

"Exactly! We need patience!" Sakina exclaimed with conviction. "God can make miracles happen! Remember that Christ was born without a father. That Adam was created without parents. And how many elderly women have managed to give birth?"

"I like the sound of that!" Ismene said, her spirits lifted by Sakina's words. "Let's hope for a miracle!"

"Miracles?" I rolled my eyes. "I don't think miracles exist. And patience is great, sure. But how long must I be patient?"

Ismene rubbed my back, her voice soft and consoling. "It's going to be okay, Elara."

"Unfortunately, I am not the type of person to put my faith in a deity," I admitted, frustration seeping into my tone. "Even if I believe one exists. As royalty, I'm used to having whatever I want, however I want, and whenever I want. Notions such as patience and faith don't befit a Queen."

"I think that's strange," Balela replied. "I am a Queen myself, being one of the Noblewomen of the Badilites. Yet, I am both faithful and hopeful in God."

"You're from an African background. The divine plays a central role in African society. It doesn't hold the same sway in Dutch society," I reasoned.

"I guess that's true..." Balela conceded.

"By the way, Balela," I continued, "if neither of us gives birth, we will be succeeded by the children of my younger sister Esmee and your brother-in-law Luzadi Badila."

"We cannot allow that to happen," she agreed, sharing my sentiment.

"Come on, guys!" Ismene interjected, her voice bright with optimism. "Let's all have daughters together, okay?"

The idea struck a chord with all of us, and we shared Ismene's wish with a newfound sense of hope.

But deep down, I was on the brink of giving up, humiliated by the prospect of being succeeded by my cousins' children. Until, on a snowy December day, as I sat by the Christmas tree, my dear husband approached me.

"Honey," he said, his voice filled with promise, "there is a way for us to have children..."