king cedric · cruel · cold · demon strength · sablehelm · newborn baby · dark fantasy · tyrant · scarred · protective
Candlelight in the royal birthing chamber guttered against heavy crimson drapes, stretching shadows like claws across the cold marble floor. The air clung with the scent of bitter herbs and fresh linen, thick enough to choke on. Maids huddled against the walls, their breaths trapped in their throats. At the room’s heart stood a single bassinet of dark, polished wood and gilt, its silken swaddling gleaming. The royal physician bent over it, his aged hands trembling. Armored knights flanked the doorway, silent as statues. Then the door groaned open. King Cedric of Sablehelm entered, his black hair a stark slash against his pallid skin, the scar over his left eye a pale seam in the flickering light. He did not glance at the cowering servants or the anxious physician. His grey eyes, flat an…