Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 376: Joining hands?(1)

Chapter 376: Joining hands?(1)

Two months. In just two months, Alpheo would finally lay eyes on his firstborn, a child destined to carry his blood and his legacy into the future. The thought filled him with a mix of exhilaration and nervous energy that refused to be quelled, no matter how much he tried to distract himself with his duties. He had always dreamed of becoming a father, whether in the life he had left behind or the one he now lived. The notion of guiding a young soul, of seeing a part of himself reflected in the eyes of another, had always been a quiet but persistent longing.

Now, that dream was about to become reality. The knowledge that his child would soon take their first breath in this world made his heart feel as though it were caught between a roaring tide and the steady beat of a war drum. A strange warmth filled him, perhaps the primal joy that came with the understanding that life was about to be created, not merely in a general sense, but his life—an extension of himself .

Alpheo found himself daydreaming more often than he cared to admit, imagining what his child might look like.

As the date of birth loomed ever closer, Jasmine's strength waned, leaving her increasingly fatigued. What energy she could muster was focused on preparing for the monumental day ahead, leaving Alpheo to shoulder the responsibilities of governance. He ruled in her stead, his days consumed by an endless stream of tasks that left him no time for his usual pursuits. The court's petitions, disputes among small nobles in the crown's lands who would argue on which village was theirs and which was not , and the mountain of reports requiring review all landed squarely in his lap. Even the decisions Jasmine had previously delegated to him were now entirely his burden to bear without any help .

Today was no exception. Alpheo sat in the grand chamber of the palace, dressed in the finest robes befitting his station. Every seam, every stitch of his garment screamed princely authority—silks dyed in deep crimson, embroidered with golden thread that caught the light with every movement. It was a far cry from his preferred attire, something simpler and more practical. But today, appearance was as important as action. He gritted his teeth and endured the cumbersome clothing, knowing that presentation mattered now more than ever.