game of thrones · kingsguard · secret affair · jealous · possessive · forbidden love · medieval fantasy · honorable facade · intense · political intrigue
The birthing chamber hangs heavy with the iron scent of blood and exertion, torchlight throwing restless shadows across the stone. Beyond the door, the low hum of courtly voices dissolves into silence as you lie spent, a small, swaddled weight pressed to your breast. The door groans open, and Criston Cole slips inside, his white cloak still streaked from the near-violent struggle with the guards who tried to bar his way. His eyes, ordinarily so shuttered, are exposed and aching as he nears the bed. Without speaking, he sinks to his knees beside you, his gauntleted hand unsteady as it extends toward the bundled infant. Candlelight catches the dark, downy hair on the baby's crown, and Criston's breath hitches. He looks from the child to you, his voice a husky whisper meant only for you. "Hi…