….

Not wanting his son to have no surname, he decided to legitimize him and take Hela as his wife. Knowing that the royal family would not accept them, Adrian fled, leaving a holographic message in which he declared his resignation as heir to the throne and that he would marry his woman. He left the promise that none of his descendants would try to take the throne from the children of the younger brother as his signature.

Adrian's mind was torn between passing the initiation rites and his mother's response. A year passed after that, and there were no aggressions from the crown. They hid in the tunnels of the refuge city, attentive to the news from the capital. It was only said that the eldest son opted for a life of adventure and delegated the throne to his younger brother.

Hela didn't want to get married until after the birth, refusing to wear loose clothing due to a full belly prone to sentimentality due to hormones. During the nine months, childbirth occurred under the care of trusted midwives; Donovan and Adrian waited outside the room, anxious for a sinister prognosis.

The hostile air between the two subsided, united by concern for the health of a woman they both loved madly. The dangerous childbirth ended, and the miracle appeared before them, Hela under white sheets, holding in her hands the fruit of her love with Adrian: a little baby girl with bronze skin, dark hair, and green eyes.

It was the best day of the exiled prince's life, all confusion and doubt about his decision to abandon the throne were torn from his bowels like cancer the moment his index finger caressed his daughter's small warm hand, whom he named Glavis.

That night Adrian cried like a newborn baby, embraced by his fiancee and never letting go of his eldest daughter's hand. He almost lost both of them; in his daughter's blood ran the war between the Makian and Tepes; she was born fighting, clinging to a small spark treasured by the young couple.

Adrian knew deep down that his mother would probably want to take care of his granddaughter to ensure the succession of the younger. He didn't want war; he knew his brother would never go after them, both he and Vlad were raised in honor and love for their own; he trusted that his mother would speak on his behalf, as she was secretly involved in hiding their carnal encounters.

He and Donovan decided they would keep their eyes open, in case Artizan decided to wield steel against them.

The month after the birth, rumors of the legitimized bastard spread like wildfire, and they couldn't pretend ignorance anymore. One way or another, Adrian received a holographic call on his communicator watch, from an unknown number. He changed his number the day he left, knowing that Artizan's resources wouldn't stop, and it was only a matter of time before a spy managed to locate them.

Upon answering, he was surprised to see only his father, none of the others were accompanying him. They had a heated conversation in which Orlox ordered, in growing anger, the eldest son to return and fulfill his responsibilities.

It couldn't have mattered less to Adrian, declaring that he had never felt comfortable among the nobility. He spent almost his entire life being raised among soldiers; he didn't know anything other than sharpening steel and riding on horseback. He said his parents were unfair to put him before Vlad. Falling in love with Hela motivated him to make the decision to leave.

Orlox's fury turned to negotiation, offering to take Hela and the baby away and give her up for adoption or raise her as a bastard with no rights to anything. The offers disgusted Adrian, rejecting them all without hesitation. The fury returned to the monarch, driven mad, he was about to say that no matter where he escaped to, he would find them, drag him back if necessary, and before he could finish his threat, Hela appeared carrying their granddaughter.

The old veteran's eyes reddened with tears, without saying a word, his daughter-in-law approached with the small creature with a curious face at the grainy translucent blue image that imitated the shape of a small man that fit in Adrian's palm.

Innocent laughter came from the baby, swatting at the hologram, distorting it as it passed through its intangible form. Trembling, Orlox wiped away his tears, apologizing; seeing his granddaughter made him feel disgusted by the thought of how they would dispose of her, and he accepted not to intervene as long as there was a prudent distance for a certain time; a warning was issued, Adrian's mother would ensure Vlad's throne at any cost.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The eldest son raised his hand in a sign of understanding and acceptance, recalling a warning in the contract he left signed. If Artizan attempted to harm his baby's life, the non-aggression oath would be nullified.

…

On the wedding day, Adrian noticed his wife's distance, reading her emotions behind the mask. When he held Glavis for the first time, Hela became a bundle of nerves and visceral protective instinct. She had come so close to losing her that night, few people could approach the crib; occasionally she sat in front of the little one. She watched her sleep, protecting and loving her with all her heart, caressing her rosy cheeks with her enormous finger. Feeling her breath, hearing her laughter filled her with intense happiness, in which she could only murmur "I'm a mom," eliciting a tear of pure tenderness.

Hela had no mother or father; she was raised among many orphaned children to be weapons of war in the Makian tribe; that her daughter had a different destiny filled her with hope. She feared not being able to transfer the appropriate love, constantly wondering how she should hold her, breastfeed her, not wanting to cause any harm due to her immense strength. The maids and especially Adrian supported her; she didn't feel abandoned. On nights when nerves dominated her, she could sob in the arms of her fiancé, comforting her before joining again in lovemaking.

She read a lot of books months before, to be able to raise her in the first few years of life without any complications, and considered giving up being a hunter for at least the first five years; an idea in consideration as she didn't believe her husband could match her in campaigns.

She couldn't stand being away from her baby, even if she was cared for by the nursemaid and guards at their residence. Due to the stress of the wedding, her lactating capacity decreased, so they turned to a third party.

"Don't worry... everything will be fine," he reassured her, her wife would be the strongest of all the Makians, and she suffered from certain sudden anxiety attacks.

"Since she was born, I can't think of anything else but taking care of her," she still felt the weight of Glavis in her hands before handing her over. "Her life will be pretty messed up."

"I know, we told her that on the day I held her for the first time," he offered a drink to his wife.

"I can't drink yet."

"That's why I asked for juice," he winked, "I was called a sissy for ordering it at my table, so make it worth it."

"You're silly," she smiled shyly accepting the drink.

On the other side of the square, an altercation occurred between two hunters, arguing over the attention of an undecided woman. Gradually the crowd turned their attention to the verbal conflict, hands poised on knives and sheathed machetes. A huge shadow covered the pair, and upon noticing an abominable presence, they fell silent to face Donovan, who observed them sternly with arms crossed.

A broad-shouldered man, tough as oak and toned muscles. Dark-skinned, he wore one gauntlet and the muscular torso uncovered, clad in tight pants by a wolf pelt. With thick features as if carved from stone, thick eyebrows, and a deep voice like a bull capable of speaking. His hair was formed into a braided ponytail, falling to the middle of his back; where a strap held his circular saw axe.

All hostility disappeared from the quarrelers; they raised their hands in request for peace and parted ways. Donovan, satisfied, raised his thumb to his sister before leaving for some beers.

The music stopped as four drones rose from parallel points in the courtyard. The machines shot a blue thread intertwined above the torch, forming a growing sparkling sphere, joined to the orange embers that amazed guests and hosts.

The hologram quickly took the form of an image, showing King Orlox in his succession speech. Every word made Adrian's skin crawl, hearing his father struggle not to cough accelerated his nerves; a part of his soul wished to be there and support the family; silencing it with the consolation that separating meant the best for everyone. Upon hearing his brother's name, Adrian couldn't hold it back and raised a glass to fire into the air:

"Long live Vlad Tepes!" There was a time when he could have had that crown; he thanked the gods of all religions for escaping that fate. All his loyalty went to his younger brother. "The first of his name and great lord of Artizan!"

The Makian horde followed his scandalous exclamation, celebrating by throwing into the air, lovers kissed, and glasses emptied in drowned gulps, restarting the music. All smiles died in a blink of an eye, Hela's scream at the sight of Orlox riddled by a lance that introduced him into the tower and the transmission cut to static.

He heard the cries of surprise; Adrian was paralyzed, and the cup slipped from his hand, spilling along with a tear. Petrified, he didn't know how to react; he couldn't believe the truth of what was just the beginning. None of the Makians could fit into what had happened. A living dragon, something not seen for decades, and its presence meant the coming of a new sovereignty.

"Adrian?" Hela called to her husband.

"Hela..." In a gaze of cold steel, Adrian's fists clenched like his heart, and mourning gave way to vengeance. "Bring me my sword."