The winds of Greyholt Vale had always been restless, but that winter night was unlike any before. The candle flames in the Baron's keep danced violently, shadows leaping across tapestries of crimson and gold. Outside, the wind howled through the trees, bending their ancient limbs as though nature itself were urging the family to prepare for what was to come.
In the warm heart of the keep, the Baron and Baroness Valemont stood together in their private chamber. Baron Edric, tall and imposing even in the dim candlelight, held his wife's hands in his as he leaned close. Baroness Mariel's hair tumbled like a river of bronze down her back, and tonight, her eyes shone with a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. The elder daughters, Seraphine and Liora, had been sent to their own rooms for the night; the keep was silent but for the crackling hearth and the distant sound of the wind.
It was in this quiet, in the eye of the storm, that life had a way of asserting itself most insistently. Love, born from years of partnership, respect, and desire, found its natural expression. Edric's strong hands rested on Mariel's shoulders, a gentle pressure that spoke of both longing and tenderness. "Tonight, we rest together," he whispered, his voice low, not loud enough for the shadows to hear, yet carrying the weight of a promise.
Mariel responded with a soft nod, leaning against him. In the warmth of their chamber, time seemed to stretch, the rest of the world—the responsibilities of the barony, the running of estates, the squabbles of neighboring lords—falling away. Here, it was simply Edric and Mariel, two souls joined in affection, bringing forth a life that would one day change the house forever.
Hours passed like seconds. The storm raged outside, but inside, the rhythm of love was steady, unbroken. And as dawn crept slowly over the hills of Greyholt Vale, a new life quietly began to stir within the Baroness.