The name hung in the quiet room like a promise to the stars.
"Ace Voltaire," Empress Selene repeated. Her voice was weak, but full of warmth and pride. She gently stroked the newborn's soft cheek, as if carving the name into his very soul. "It is a perfect name. He will carry it well."
Emperor Alaric's face softened, but only for a moment. His broad shoulders squared, and the fierce, iron-willed ruler returned.
"Tradition demands it," Alaric said, his deep voice steady. "One month from today, we will hold the ceremony to reveal his elemental affinity. The lords, the generals, and the mighty pillars of our empire will all be there. The First Prince of Voltaire will have a celebration worthy of his name."
The Empress gave a tired, beautiful smile. "Then let it be done. May he shine brighter than any king before him."
Nearby, the head maid bowed deeply. "I will handle every detail, Your Majesties."
For a few brief minutes, true peace settled over the royal chamber. The lanterns crackled softly. The Empress breathed in a slow, restful rhythm. The baby cooed. Outside the grand windows, the first gray light of dawn started to push away the night.
But in the Voltaire Empire, peace was a fragile thing.
Suddenly, it shattered.
Heavy, panicked footsteps thundered down the hallway. The grand doors flew open with a violent *bang*. A tall, imposing man stepped into the room. It was Commander Darius. His steel-gray armor was covered in thick dust and smeared with dried blood. His presence cut through the room's calm like a drawn sword.
He dropped to one knee instantly. "Your Majesty! Forgive the intrusion, but I bring urgent news from the western border."
Alaric's eyes turned cold and sharp. "Report, Commander."
"The Infris Empire is attacking," Darius said grimly. "Their army has crossed into Duke Viron's territory. The vanguard has already crushed two of our outposts. If we do not stop them, they will push deeper into our lands before the sun fully rises."
A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room. Even the lantern flames seemed to freeze. Alaric's face changed completely. The loving father was gone. The man standing there now was the supreme ruler who had forged an empire out of blood and iron.
"So..." Alaric muttered, his voice a dangerous rumble. "Infris actually dares to test my borders."
He turned his piercing gaze to Darius. "Ready the Imperial Guard. Summon the generals immediately. I am taking personal command of this war."
Empress Selene gasped. Her hand trembled as she pulled baby Ace a little closer to her chest. "Alaric..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please. Come back safely."
The Emperor paused. He turned back to his wife, and for a split second, the terrifying warlord faded away. He looked at her with pure, gentle devotion.
"I have survived far worse storms than this, Selene," Alaric promised softly. "This empire was built on fire and steel. It will not fall today. Not while I am still breathing."
He looked at his newborn son one last time. "For him. For you. I will return."
Without another word, Alaric spun on his heel and marched out. His heavy cape flared behind him, bringing a chill of cold air and the harsh scent of steel into the room. The sharp click of his boots faded down the hall until there was nothing but silence.
Empress Selene sat perfectly still, staring at the empty doorway. In her arms, little Ace slept peacefully, completely unaware of the dark shadow stretching over his father's kingdom.
Far in the distance, carried by the morning wind, came the steady, rhythmic booming of war drums.
And out on the horizon, the dark sky was already glowing red with the torches of an invading army.
___