The birth was neither quiet nor easy, as the midwives predicted. The night sky was lit by the first frost, and snow fell softly on the stone roof. Inside the chamber, the cries of new life echoed against walls adorned with banners of past generations.
Alaric Valemont came into the world with a vigor that startled even the seasoned midwives. His cries were strong, unrelenting, and immediately commanded attention. Mariel's hand was weak in Edric's grasp, but her eyes shone with triumph and relief.
"A boy," one midwife announced, holding the child high so that Edric could see him fully. "A Valemont, first son, first heir."
Edric took his son, feeling the small warmth against his chest. "He will know the world," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. "He will know honor, duty, and the weight of our name."