The prince that was promised

Aldric's P.O.V

The castle lay shrouded in the gray mist of early morning, the cries of a newborn echoing through the royal chambers. Servants moved quietly through the shadowed halls, their faces pale with worry. News of the queen's labor had spread hours ago, and the lingering silence that followed her final screams was deafening. Inside the royal chambers, Queen Celestine falkenrath drakemount lay motionless, her porcelain skin now ashen, her crimson lips parted as though whispering a final secret to the void. The midwives worked around her, their hands trembling as they tried to mask the horror of her lifeless form. Beside the queen, a swaddled infant wailed-a sound filled with life, yet surrounded by death. The chamber doors open, revealing King Aldric Thorne Drakemount . His broad shoulders, usually unyielding under the weight of his crown, seemed to sag as he entered. His brown eyes swept the room, narrowing on the figure of his queen. He did not weep. Kings did not cry. Instead, his gaze flicked to the infant cradled by the midwife. "A daughter, Your Majesty," the midwife whispered, her voice trembling as she approached. A daughter. Aldric's jaw clenched. He reached out, his hands steady despite the turmoil in his chest, and took the child into his arms. The infant squirmed, her cries subsiding as she nestled against his chest. Her eyes fluttered open-hazel, flecked with golden streaks that glimmered like molten sunlight. "She will be called Seraphina," Aldric declared, his voice steady but devoid of warmth. "A name befitting her station." "A fine name," came a smooth voice from the shadows. The king turned sharply as the room chilled. Lord Dorian Malrik falkenrath stepped into the light, his crimson robes whispering across the stone floor. His tall frame and angular features gave him the look of a predator, his dark eyes glinting with barely concealed amusement. "Lord Dorian," Aldric said coldly, "I did not summon you." Dorian inclined his head, his lips curving into a thin smile. "And yet, here I am. My queen is gone, my bloodline diminished, and I have come to ensure that what remains is not squandered." His gaze fell on the child in Aldric's arms. "Your daughter... our daughter. A bridge between two worlds." The king's grip tightened on Seraphina. "She is my child, Dorian. Whatever claims you believe your house has died with the queen." Dorian chuckled softly. "Did they? Let us not forget the agreement that brought our two houses together. Your throne would not stand without the strength of the Falkenrath. And now, this child... she is the culmination of our efforts." The king's nostrils flared, but he held his tongue. He turned away, focusing instead on Seraphina's delicate features. She was so small, so fragile, and yet her presence felt like a storm waiting to be unleashed. "She will grow strong," Dorian said, stepping closer. "But strength alone will not be enough. You must ensure the continuation of this bloodline. A male heir, Your Majesty. The experiment is incomplete without one." "You speak as if this is a laboratory and not a kingdom," Aldric snapped. "Aren't they one and the same?" Dorian's voice was soft, almost mocking. "The throne is a crucible, refining those who claim it into something greater-or destroying them entirely. But the child will need an ally, a brother to stand beside her. The throne has never been a place for the weak, and she... she carries a burden no one else can comprehend." "She carries my name," Aldric growled. "And that is enough." "For now," Dorian replied, his tone turning serious. "But the wolves are still out there, Aldric. They are gathering, waiting for the moment to reclaim what was stolen from them. Your daughter's blood may give her power, but power without allies is nothing more than an invitation to war." The room fell silent, the weight of Dorian's words settling like a shroud over the king. Aldric turned back to face the vampire lord, his expression unreadable. "You've made your point," he said finally. "But this conversation is over. I will not let you dictate my family's future." Dorian inclined his head, his smile returning. "As you wish, Your Majesty. But remember, time is not on your side." With that, he turned and swept out of the room, his robes trailing behind him like a river of blood. Aldric stared after him, his jaw clenched. The man was insufferable, but his words carried a truth that the king could not ignore. He looked down at Seraphina, her tiny hand reaching up to grasp his finger. Her touch was warm, grounding him in a way he hadn't expected. "You will be strong," he whispered, his voice softer than before. "Stronger than anyone believes." But even as he spoke, a shadow of doubt crept into his heart. The throne was not a place for daughters. It demanded sons, heirs who could wield both power and the sword. He had to ensure the future-her future. The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. One of the midwives approached, her hands trembling as she curtsied. "Your Majesty, shall we prepare the queen for burial?" Aldric's throat tightened, but he nodded. "See to it," he said gruffly. "And ensure that the child is cared for." The midwife bowed and gently took Seraphina from his arms. The child whimpered but did not cry as she was carried away. Aldric watched them go, his chest heavy with an emotion he couldn't name. Outside, the first rays of dawn pierced the gray mist, casting long shadows across the castle grounds. The king stood alone in the chamber, staring out at the horizon. Somewhere out there, the wolves were gathering, their fangs bared and their eyes hungry for vengeance. And within the castle walls, a child had been born-not as a blessing, but as a challenge to a world that had no place for her.