The birth chamber was nearly dark. Only two candles burned on the walls. Their light flickered over the stone floor. In the middle stood a small cradle. A baby lay inside, wrapped in white cloth. He made no sound. He just breathed softly.
Second Consort Lune Chan knelt beside him. She watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Her hand reached out, trembling, to brush his tiny fist. She thought of every hard step she had taken to reach this moment.
She bowed her head and whispered, "My son, I will protect you."
For a long time, no one else entered. The silence felt heavy. Lune Chan could feel her own heartbeat. She wanted to speak, but her voice would not come. She simply waited.
Then she heard footsteps on the marble outside. They were slow and sure. She stood and looked toward the door. Her heart beat faster.
Queen Rostova entered first. Her deep red robes brushed the floor. Her face was calm and unreadable. King Avalin followed. His cloak trailed behind him. He looked at Lune Chan and the baby with kind eyes.
He stepped closer and said softly, "I'm sorry I left you alone. I should have come back sooner."
Lune Chan bowed and answered, "Thank you for returning."
They both stared at the sleeping child. He did not cry. He did not stir. He only slept.
A soft knock sounded. The door opened one more time. Prince Serric walked in. He was ten years old and dressed in plain training clothes. His boots made no sound on the floor. He looked determined.
He paused by the cradle, then spoke in a low voice: "They call him the weakest birth in Masrth's history. They say our family is shamed."
Lune Chan's hand flew to her chest. Queen Rostova's eyes softened for an instant. King Avalin's jaw tightened.
Serric knelt beside the cradle and laid his hand on the edge of the swaddle. The baby's small fingers curled around the cloth.
"If he cannot stand," Serric said, "then I will stand for him. If he cannot fight, then I will fight for him. I swear by my sword and our blood: no one will shame him while I live."
The vow hung in the quiet room. Lune Chan's eyes filled with tears. King Avalin looked at Serric with pride. Queen Rostova allowed a small smile to appear.
After a moment, Serric rose and asked, "Father, Mother, does he have a name?"
Lune Chan gasped. She had thought that naming would wait for the morning ceremony. King Avalin and Queen Rostova exchanged a quick look.
Queen Rostova stepped forward and said, "A child does not need power to have a name."
King Avalin nodded. Together, they spoke in clear voices: "Ares Long."
The name filled the room like sunrise. Lune Chan covered her mouth and let happy tears fall. Serric whispered the name to himself, feeling its promise. Queen Rostova's gentle smile grew brighter.
"Ares Long of Masrth," King Avalin said. "My son, the one who did not cry."
Lune Chan knelt and lifted Ares into her arms. She pressed her cheek to his soft hair. He blinked once, as if he knew his name at last.
Serric stood at the cradle's edge, his hand on the rail. He bowed his head, promising without words to keep his vow.
Queen Rostova approached and placed a cool hand on Lune Chan's shoulder. "He will be safe," she said softly. "Not because he is strong now, but because you and Serric will protect him."
King Avalin laid his hand on Serric's shoulder. "Your vow honors us all. Be the shield he needs."
Serric bowed again, then turned and walked toward the door. He paused at the threshold and looked back at Ares. His gaze spoke everything.
In the silent hall, Serric leaned against the cool wall. He flexed his fists and stared at the high ceiling. "For you, brother," he whispered. "I will be your storm." Then he walked away.
Back inside, Lune Chan rocked Riven gently and whispered his name like a prayer. Queen Rostova and King Avalin stood together, watching the new mother and her son. No royal command could match the quiet love of that moment.
Outside the chamber, servants paused in their steps. Whispers rose:
"They say the First Prince vows to protect the new heir."
"Even the Ice Queen smiled."
By dawn, the palace buzzed with the news. Every guard and servant spoke of Riven's name. Some were proud, some surprised, some envious. But all repeated it:
"Ares."
In the birthing chamber, Lune Chan pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and whispered, "Welcome to the world, my son."
Queen Rostova and King Avalin stood side by side. Rostova reached out and squeezed Lune Chan's hand. "He is ours now," she said.
Lune Chan nodded, hope shining in her eyes. "I will keep him safe."
Rostova smiled again. Serric stood guard at the door, silent and proud. And in the cradle, Ares slept on, unaware of the vows spoken over him—and the love that would shape his life.
THE END OF THE CHAPTER