As the sun crept across the sky, tension filled the grand chamber. A man of middle age paced back and forth, his face ordinary yet sharply defined—black hair, green eyes, and the faint shadows of sleepless nights beneath his brows. Among the gathered family members and children, his posture remained formal, but his eyes betrayed his unease.
His brother approached quietly and said, "Cedric, maybe you'd like to step outside and get some fresh air?"
Cedric glanced at him, his features softening for a moment. He took a deep breath and nodded. "All right…"
Once they were alone outdoors, Cedric spoke up. "Dorian… I know we shouldn't worry. They have the best medical care lined up. But… something has felt off these past few days. I can't shake it."
Dorian said nothing, waiting. Cedric continued, "It's taking too long. My nerves are frayed. I'm terrified something will happen to the baby… or to Isolde."
Dorian stared at the pale sky. His voice was soft and tinged with melancholy. "All we can do is pray to Seraniel, the goddess of life, health, and fertility."
They clasped hands in silent prayer—fingers entwined, palms pressed to lips and foreheads—whispering their private pleas.
After a moment, Dorian said, "Come on. Let's walk a bit."
A few minutes later, their brother Marcus arrived, his tone strained. "Cedric, come—it's done. They want you now."
Cedric stared at Dorian, then at Marcus. "I don't like how you said that. What happened?"
Marcus paled and remained silent. "Marcus?!" Cedric pressed.
Marcus met his gaze with sorrow. "It's time. Let's go."
Cedric immediately ran back inside. The first person he saw was Vivienne—his first wife—radiant with blond hair falling to her shoulders and blue eyes soft with compassion. She held a newborn wrapped in a crimson cloth, streaked with drops of blood—blood that was not the baby's, but the mother's.
He froze, then moved toward them. Vivienne handed him the baby and gave a bittersweet smile. "Isolde… she didn't survive the birth."
Cedric stared at the child with overwhelming love, momentarily forgetting Marcus's warning. He looked up, voice tight with grief. "I'm sorry… I was distracted. Could you repeat that?"
Vivienne opened her mouth but said nothing. At her side stood his father, Sebastian. "My son… Isolde has passed away."
Cedric's face went stiff. He glanced at the infant, love and pain swirling in his eyes—the birth of his child had taken the life of the woman he truly loved.
Sebastian continued calmly, "The umbilical cord was tangled. She suffocated, and the doctors performed an emergency cesarean. It's a miracle the baby survived."
He paused, then added, "Isolde was already weakened by illness. The baby appears physically healthy, the spine intact. But there are concerns about brain damage from lack of oxygen. We don't know how long the cord strangled her."
Cedric turned to his father, then to Dorian, and shouted, "But we prayed, didn't we? To Seraniel?!"
He lifted his gaze as if to the sky. "Why her? I never harmed you! Why punish me like this?!"
He glared at Sebastian. "You could have healed her, right? Potions, magic… I've recovered from worse wounds!"
His voice trembled. "I've seen soldiers survive the unthinkable… And she…"
Sebastian's voice was firm. "Calm down. She was ill long before the pregnancy. Even without complications, she wouldn't have lived a year."
Cedric's defiance crumbled, and he pleaded, "Why do you punish me? Why?!"
Vivienne stepped forward, one arm holding the baby, the other embracing him.
A silence fell—brief, but endless.
Tears welled in Cedric's eyes, but none fell. He rested his head on Vivienne's shoulder, whispered, "Thank you…"
"You should go see Isolde," Vivienne said softly. "Leave the baby here. He's safe."
Cedric pulled a handkerchief from his coat, wiped his eyes, and walked toward the birthing chamber.
Vivienne watched until he disappeared behind the doors, then turned to Sebastian with a question in her eyes: *Did he want to harm his own child for a moment?*
Sebastian shook his head. "Despite that moment… I doubt he'd do such a thing. But…"
He glanced at the birthing chamber doors. "I wonder how he'll treat the child now. I hope he doesn't reject him. If he does… I'll make him understand."