90 AC. Driftmark.
Ever since Corlys returned to his home island from King's Landing, his days had passed in unending labor. Every morning he began with a detailed council with Veylor and key officials of Spicetown, delving step by step into every detail of the island's affairs, trade, and construction. It did not take Corlys long to see just how competent and sensible an administrator his younger brother had proven to be. During the lord's long absence, it was Veylor who had held the helm of Driftmark with a steady hand, allowing not a single disruption in trade, tax collection, or the construction of the new fleet.
"Customs duties from foreign merchants have risen by nearly fifteen percent this quarter," Veylor said, carefully lowering a sheet covered in fine handwriting onto the table and looking up at his brother. "Traders from Pentos and Braavos increasingly prefer docking in Spicetown's harbor, avoiding unnecessary red tape and heavy levies in the capital. We have prepared additional berths on the northern side as you instructed before your departure, so there are no more delays in unloading goods."
Corlys nodded in satisfaction, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. It pleased him to see the dedication and responsibility Veylor brought to every task entrusted to him, demonstrating not only devotion to the family, but also an extraordinary mind.
"You have done fine work, Veylor," Corlys replied warmly, looking at his younger brother with a smile. "I studied your reports all of last week and found not a single error or oversight. You managed Driftmark no worse than I would have done myself, and in matters of harbor fee allocation, you even showed greater flexibility. The smallfolk of Spicetown and the merchants appreciate such an approach, and our house grows only stronger and wealthier for it."
"I merely followed the principles you laid down before your departure," Veylor smiled modestly, though his eyes betrayed how much his elder brother's praise meant to him. "Besides, the officials in the town already know full well that any attempt to withhold even a fraction of the revenue will bring not just dismissal, but a serious trial."
Their conversation smoothly turned to the affairs of their Bank of Driftmark, which was rapidly gaining financial power and influence across Westeros and beyond. The brothers discussed in detail the terms of a large loan to a merchant guild from Pentos, as well as interest rates for Westerosi lords seeking to borrow gold against their lands. Veylor shared his thoughts regarding the risks, while Corlys offered valuable amendments grounded in his vast experience and knowledge of maritime trade.
At that moment, the quiet of the solar was shattered by a deafening crash. The wooden doors flew open, slamming against the stone wall, and Ser Adam practically burst into the room. The knight wore no heavy armor, only a light doublet, and his breath was heavy and ragged, as though he had sprinted non-stop through the entire castle.
Corlys instantly frowned and straightened in his chair. He knew Ser Adam too well - this experienced, disciplined warrior was famed for his impeccable manners. Were the matter not urgent and critical, the knight would never in his life have dared burst into the lord's solar without knocking.
"What is it, Ser Adam?" Corlys asked quickly and sternly, already feeling a sharp dread mounting within him. "What has happened?"
The winded knight caught his breath with difficulty. His eyes were wide with anxiety, and beads of sweat stood upon his brow.
"My lord... Princess Viserra..." Ser Adam rasped, trying to steady his voice to deliver the vital news. "The princess is in labor! Her labor has just begun, the handmaidens are already with her, and I have sent for the maester!"
The words struck the solar like a bolt from a clear sky. Corlys asked no further questions and wasted not a single second in thought. He surged out of his chair, nearly knocking it over, and covered the distance to the doors with long, swift strides. Bursting out of the room, Lord Velaryon sprinted down the castle's broad corridor at top speed.
His heart pounded in his throat, and every thought was consumed by a single woman. Corlys ran across the flagstones, paying no mind to the servants, guards, and courtiers in his path, who recoiled toward the walls in fright and astonishment to give their lord wide berth. Behind him, breathing heavily and barely keeping up with his frantic pace, came Veylor and Ser Adam, straining not to fall behind their anxious lord.
Taking several flights of stairs and long galleries at a run, Corlys soon reached the bedchamber he shared with Viserra. Wasting no time on a knock, he threw open the heavy latch and burst inside. The air in the room was thick with tension. Viserra lay upon their broad bed, her face twisted in agonizing pangs of childbed labor. She was breathing heavily, clutching the bedsheets in her fingers with every fresh wave of contractions.
Beside her were Corlys's good-sisters, Thea and Elise, as well as Princess Rhaenys and Queen Alysanne. The women surrounded the bed, speaking softly to her, wiping her forehead with a damp cloth, and doing everything in their power to soothe Viserra through these first, most painful minutes.
No sooner had the heavy door swung open to reveal Corlys than Viserra turned her head toward him. In her purple eyes, glistening with tears and pain, a flare of hope ignited.
"Corlys..." Viserra called to him with a faint groan, reaching out a trembling hand.
Corlys was at her bedside in an instant. Dropping to his knees before her, he cradled her sweat-damp hand in his own and gently stroked her flush cheek, feeling her body shudder violently beneath another spasm.
"I am here, my love, right beside you," Corlys said softly and tenderly, gazing straight into her eyes and pouring all the assurance and love he possessed into his voice. "You are strong. You will endure this. All will be well, I am with you."
"I am afraid, Corlys..." Viserra whispered, tightening her grip on his fingers as another wave of pain forced her to shut her eyes and gasp for breath. "The pain... it is too much."
"Fear not, my love," he answered, looking at her tenderly and kissing her hot palm. "You and our child will be completely whole and well. I promise you. Soon it will all be over, and our sweet babe will be born into the world."
At that moment, Corlys's mother, Lady Alice, entered the chamber with swift strides. Assessing the situation with the practiced eye of a mother who had raised children of her own, she immediately approached the other side of the bed. She spoke gently to Viserra, stroking her hair and reaffirming her son's words that childbed was a natural path, and that the princess would surely prevail over every trial.
Corlys understood that an ordinary bedchamber was not the proper setting for the birth itself. Slipping his arms carefully beneath Viserra's back and knees, he gently gathered her up and rose from his knees. The princess gave a quiet gasp of surprise, but instantly looped her arms around his neck, trusting in his strong embrace. Slowly and surely, Corlys carried her out of the chamber and down the corridor toward a room specifically prepared nearby on the same floor. All the women hurried after them.
Corlys had prepared this separate chamber with absolute fanaticism. For the past two weeks, servants under his personal supervision had scrubbed it clean daily, washing every surface, wall, and floorboards with pure alcohol to destroy any invisible foul vapors or corruption. In the center stood a comfortable, wide bed draped in snow-white linens, while long wooden shelves stretched along one wall. Neatly arrayed upon them stood vials, phials, and jars filled with all manner of potions, infusions, and restorative elixirs that Corlys had prepared with his own hands or commissioned specifically for this day.
Carrying Viserra inside and gently laying her upon the soft bed, Corlys looked around, only to find the maester missing. In a corner beside basins of water, three midwives bustled about, hastily washing and rubbing their hands with spirits. They performed their task strictly as Lord Velaryon had trained and compelled them to do over the past weeks, for he refused to allow his wife or newborn child to catch any dangerous corruption or childbed fever.
Yet the absence of the castle's chief maester at such a crucial hour enraged Corlys. He rounded on the midwives and shouted fiercely, making no attempt to conceal his irritation:
"Where in the Seven Hells is Maester Maleon?! Why is he not in the birthing room when my wife needs aid?!"
The women present were startled by such unusual harshness and wrath from Corlys. They knew him as a composed, measured man who always mastered his emotions, and none of them had ever seen him lose his temper so readily.
At that precise moment, the door of the birthing room swung open, and a breathy Maester Maleon hurried inside. Behind him followed his young assistant, a healer John, carrying an extra chest of tools.
"I am here, my lord! Forgive the delay, I was preparing clean bandages and surgical tools!" Maleon said quickly, bowing his head in respect, before immediately rushing to Viserra's bedside.
Wasting no time, the maester leaned over the princess and spoke to her in a calm, professional tone, asking precise questions:
"Princess, tell me: when precisely did the first pains begin? How frequent are the contractions now? Do you feel pressure in your lower abdomen?"
Viserra, overcoming another surge of pain and breathing heavily, strove to answer each question as accurately as possible, describing her sensations and the intervals between spasms. Meanwhile, Maleon approached a dedicated table where a servant had prepared a pitcher of spirits, and thoroughly washed his hands, scrubbing every knuckle and fingernail. Having completed this mandatory ritual, the maester turned to the gathered company and declared firmly:
"I must ask all who are not needed to leave the room. The birthing chamber must remain quiet and uncrowded, so as not to cause undue commotion or distress the princess."
At his words, several servants and extra attendants departed. Inside remained only Queen Alysanne, Corlys's mother Lady Alice, Princess Rhaenys, along with Thea and Elise. All these women, save for young Rhaenys, possessed ample experience with childbed labor and had come to lend Viserra moral and physical support during her labor.
Queen Alysanne glanced at her young granddaughter Rhaenys, gently touching her shoulder, and spoke with motherly warmth:
"Rhaenys, sweetling, it would be best for you to wait outside with Corlys and Veylor. There is no need for you to witness this."
But Rhaenys merely shook her head stubbornly, pressing her lips together, and answered resolutely:
"No, Grandmother, I will not leave Viserra. I shall stay here and help however I can."
The Queen sighed, warning the girl in all seriousness while meeting her gaze directly:
"Watching a birth is a severe trial for a young maid, Rhaenys. It is full of pain, the sight of blood, and terrible cries. Think carefully."
"I am staying nonetheless," Rhaenys repeated without a second's hesitation, her tone firm as she sought to show her unyielding resolve.
Corlys, standing by the head of the bed, also voiced his intent to remain, refusing to leave his wife's side. But his mother, Lady Alice, fixed him with a strict gaze, stepped forward, and pointed firmly toward the door:
"Corlys, you have no place here. Men in the childbed room do nothing but cause hindrance and needless tension. Go outside and wait with your brother."
Corlys hesitated, torn by deep inner doubt. This was a man who without the slightest hesitation could plunge into fierce battle, lead hundreds of men to certain death, and look danger in the eye without blinking. Yet now he felt utterly helpless. He knew he could not calmly watch his beloved woman writhe and suffer in intolerable agony to bring his own child into the world.
Corlys took a deep breath, mastering his impulse, and turned to face Maester Maleon. Drawing air into his lungs, he spoke in a solemn, resonant voice:
"I entrust my wife and child into your hands, Maleon. Do everything in your power."
"I shall not fail you, Lord Corlys," the maester replied with absolute confidence and composure, bowing his head. "You have done everything possible to secure the best conditions for this childbed. Now it is my turn to fulfill my duty."
Corlys took a step toward the doorway, but paused for a moment right at the threshold. He turned his head back to the maester and spoke in a sincere, slightly apologetic tone:
"Forgive me for those harsh words, Maleon... before you entered the room. I was overly distraught and lost my temper."
Maester Maleon offered a kindly smile, shaking his head, and answered with light understanding:
"I understand completely, my lord. On the eve of a firstborn's birth, even the steadiest of men lose their customary calm. I hold no grievance against you."
Corlys nodded in gratitude and stepped out past the heavy wooden door alongside his brother, which swung shut tightly behind them. The brothers took their seats in comfortable carved chairs with soft cushions, placed beforehand by the servants in the corridor directly opposite the birthing room doors.
"Steady, Corlys," Veylor leaned in, resting his broad palm on his brother's shoulder, speaking with warmth and conviction. "Viserra and my nephew will be well. Maester Maleon knows his craft, and your special potions and elixirs will ward off any complications. Remember how well they served when Elise and Thea were in childbed. Everything went smoothly thanks to your preparations."
"Thank you for the support, brother, it means much to me," Corlys replied quietly, leaning back in his chair and clenching his fists. "My mind knows all of this, yet my heart is still torn with unease."
Nearly half an hour of silence passed, broken only by muffled voices behind the door and the footsteps of servants. But then, from within the birthing room, came Viserra's first loud, pain-filled shriek. The sound struck Corlys's heart like a sharp blade. The Lord of Driftmark could bear it no longer: he leapt from his chair and began pacing frantically back and forth along the corridor, like a wild lion trapped in a narrow cage.
Ares, who had been sitting dutifully on the stone floor right by the doors all this time, lowered his massive head to his paws each time another shriek echoed from the room. The panther emitted a low, sympathetic rumble, as though he understood full well that his mistress was enduring terrible suffering behind that closed door.
The wait dragged on agonizingly. Minutes bled into hours, heavy tension filling the hallway. Corlys paced the length of the wall a hundred times over, unable to sit for even a second, ignoring Veylor's attempts to distract him with talk.
After two more hours of such agonizing waiting, another long scream of incredible strain rang out from behind the door. But in the very next instant, the scream cut short, replaced by the thin, sharp, and distinct cry of a newborn babe.
Corlys froze in his tracks. His breath caught, and his heart paused its frantic pounding for a moment. All the fears that had tormented him over the past hours vanished instantly, giving way to an overwhelming tide of relief and joy.
Wasting not a single second, he threw open the door and burst into the birthing room. The air inside was thick and heavy, saturated with a pungent mix of spirits, sweat, herbs, and fresh blood, but Corlys paid it no mind. He crossed toward the bed with swift steps, arriving just as Maester Maleon carefully severed the umbilical cord and handed the infant to the midwives to be washed in warm water.
Corlys approached the bed and sat on the edge beside his wife. Viserra lay completely exhausted, drained by the labor. Beads of sweat glinted on her forehead and pale cheeks, her matted silver hair clinging to her neck, yet to Corlys, she looked more beautiful in that moment than ever before.
Gently taking her limp hand, he pressed it to his lips and asked softly, gazing into her weary eyes:
"How do you feel, my sweet?"
Viserra offered a faint smile in return, taking a deep breath, and answered with quiet pride in her voice:
"I am so tired... but I did it, Corlys. I prevailed."
Meanwhile, Maester Maleon examined the cleaned infant thoroughly, checking his breathing, limbs, and strength, before tenderly swaddling the babe in a clean, dry cloth and bringing him to the mother's bed. The maester smiled warmly as he handed the bundle into Viserra's arms.
"My congratulations to you, Lord Corlys, Princess Viserra!" Maleon said respectfully. "He is a whole, healthy, and robust boy. We shall still need to observe him over these first days, but I can say with full confidence that all will be well with the child."
Corlys and Viserra leaned their heads over the tiny bundle together, unable to tear their eyes from their newborn son. At the same time, the other women - Queen Alysanne, Lady Alice, Rhaenys, Thea, and Elise - gathered around the far side of the bed. Their faces shone with joy as they offered delighted congratulations to Corlys and Viserra on the safe delivery and the birth of their firstborn.
Maester Maleon poured medicine from two different phials into small goblets and presented them to Viserra, speaking instructively:
"Princess, drink these two draughts to the dregs. The first will help your body swiftly replenish lost blood, while the second will ward off the danger of childbed fever."
Viserra nodded obediently and drained both goblets in small gulps. At that very moment, the babe in her arms stirred and opened his tiny eyelids for the first time. A low gasp of wonder broke from all present: deep, striking purple eyes looked out at them, and beneath the light, soft silver down of fine hair was clearly visible upon the babe's small head.
Corlys's mother, Lady Alice, clapped her hands together and said tenderly, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes:
"Oh Gods, look at him! This sweet babe looks so remarkably like you, Corlys, when you were a newborn yourself! The very same features, the very same gaze!"
Queen Alysanne, smiling warmly, leaned closer to the bed and inquired of the young parents:
"And what name have you chosen for your firstborn, my children?"
Viserra gently handed the child to Corlys. Remarkably, as soon as the infant was in his father's arms, he fell quiet and ceased his restless squirming, sensing the reassuring warmth of parental hands. Corlys received his son with extreme care, holding him gently, and in that same instant, unseen by those around them, channeled his magic. A fine, invisible pulse of magical energy swept softly through the babe's body, inspecting every organ and reservoir of life force. Corlys confirmed in an instant: the child was whole and sound, his life energy pure and powerful, with nothing threatening his life.
Corlys and Viserra had long since decided on a name for their firstborn, yet until this moment, they had discussed their choice with no one, keeping it secret. Lord Velaryon looked at those assembled and joked with a light smile:
"Truth be told, I wished greatly to name my son Corwyn, in honor of my late father... but Daeron beat me to it, giving that name to his own son two years ago."
The onlookers chuckled quietly, and Corlys turned his eyes back to the infant. He bent down and kissed his son softly on his tiny, warm forehead, speaking in a resonant, confident voice full of pride:
"He shall be named Daemon. In honor of my grandfather, Lord Daemon Velaryon. I pray that our son will bear this name with great honor and grow into a man as worthy, valiant, and wise as my grandfather was."
"Daemon..." Queen Alysanne repeated, her face lighting with a warm glow. "A strong and noble name. It suits this sweet babe well."
"A splendid name! Your grandfather would have been glad," Lady Alice agreed, while the other women exchanged smiling glances.
Corlys looked once more into the child's purple eyes and whispered, loud enough for all around to hear:
"Daemon Velaryon. Heir to Driftmark."
Hearing his father's voice, the babe began to squirm once more and clench his tiny fists, showing clear signs of hunger. Corlys carefully returned the child to Viserra's arms, who immediately prepared to put him to her breast.
The wise Queen Alysanne took in the situation, turning to the other women and speaking in an authoritative yet gentle tone:
"Now, my dears, Viserra must nurse little Daemon, and we ought to leave the young parents alone with their newborn. They require rest."
The Queen stepped to Viserra once more, stroking her hand and speaking with deep emotion:
"My congratulations to you once again, Viserra. The Gods have blessed me by granting me the sight of another wonderful grandson brought into the world."
"Thank you all for being by my side through the labor. Your support and presence helped me greatly to endure this pain," Viserra replied sincerely, looking up at the Queen and the others.
Alysanne merely shook her head, answering with a warm, motherly smile:
"You have no need to thank a mother and kin for remaining beside you during the most difficult and momentous hour of any woman's life. Now we shall leave you to rest. Besides, I must write and send an urgent raven to your father in the capital, to gladden him with news that he is a grandfather once more!"
One by one, the women began to file out of the birthing room. One of the last to head for the door was Maester Maleon. He paused at the threshold, turned back to the couple, and spoke instructively:
"Princess, should you feel even the slightest ailment, chill, or pain, command the servants to summon me without delay. I shall be in my quarters."
"Thank you, Maester," Viserra answered with gratitude.
Corlys stepped toward Maleon, shook his hand, and spoke with genuine respect:
"My deepest thanks to you, Maester Maleon, for taking such fine care of Viserra and our little Daemon. Your assistance and skill are beyond measure."
"It is my highest honor to serve House Velaryon, my lord," the maester answered proudly, resting a hand upon his heart. "I am truly glad to have aided in bringing the future Lord of Driftmark into the world, and I am certain young Daemon will make his parents proud in the years to come."
Corlys looked to his brother who remained, asking of him:
"Veylor, give order that the bells be rung across the entire town immediately! Let all of Driftmark know of the birth of my heir! See to it also that free bread and coin are distributed in the streets of Spicetown to all the needy and the smallfolk. Spicetown must celebrate Daemon's birth!"
"It shall all be done to perfection, brother!" Veylor answered joyfully, giving Corlys a firm embrace. "Once more, my congratulations to you, Viserra, and with your leave, I shall take my departure. Let us disturb my nephew no further."
When the heavy door finally shut and Veylor went off to fulfill the command, Corlys returned to the bed. Now they were completely alone. Viserra unfastened her gown and began to nurse little Daemon, while Corlys sat beside her on the edge of the mattress, gazing at them without taking his eyes off the deeply touching scene.
He leaned closer, taking Viserra's free hand, and spoke with deep, tender gratitude:
"Thank you, Viserra... Thank you for granting me such a handsome and robust son."
Viserra raised her eyes to him and replied softly, with a gentle smile:
"It is I who should thank you, Corlys... For were it not for that special magical ritual of yours which you performed for me, I would never in my life have been able to become a mother and know this joy. You are my savior."
Meanwhile, little Daemon continued to drink his mother's milk with remarkable zeal and gusto, smacking his lips and showing not the slightest intention of stopping. Viserra looked down at her son and remarked with a light chuckle:
"Look at him... He is quite the glutton!"
Corlys gave a warm laugh, stroking the silver hair on his son's head:
"A healthy appetite in a babe is the surest sign of vigor and robust health. Let him eat and gather strength."
After some time, little Daemon had drunk his fill at last, letting out a contented sigh, tilting his head back, and falling fast asleep right in his mother's arms. Viserra neatly covered her breast, looked at Corlys, and said with exhaustion in her voice:
"I wish to return to our chambers, Corlys. The stench of spirits and medicines here is too thick to breathe."
Corlys immediately summoned the handmaidens waiting outside the door. The maids swiftly and gently aided Viserra into a clean, fresh nightgown, after which Corlys carefully took his sleeping son into his arms, and the small party proceeded back to their chambers. Behind them, as a faithful guardian, followed Ares, his intense gaze never straying from the small bundle in Corlys's arms.
Entering their spacious, light-filled chambers, the servants hurried into the bath chamber at once, preparing warm water infused with fragrant oils for Viserra. The maids helped the princess into the bath so she could wash away all the weariness and sweat of that grueling day.
Meanwhile, Corlys settled into a deep, plush chair by the window, tenderly holding his sleeping son in his arms, his heart catching as he watched the babe breathe so peacefully and evenly. Ares glided over to his master's chair with soft, completely silent steps. Corlys leaned forward slightly and showed Daemon to the panther.
Ares cautiously extended his massive muzzle, sniffing the infant closely without brushing him with whiskers or nose, then raised his eyes and fixed Corlys with a sharp, almost human gaze.
Corlys met the panther's gaze and spoke in a calm, unyielding tone:
"Listen to me closely, Ares. From this day forth, my son Daemon is a full member of our pack. You are to protect and guard him just as you protect me and Viserra."
As though truly understanding every word spoken by his master, Ares gave a low, rumbling purr, lay down on the floor at Corlys's feet, and rested his head upon his broad paws, keeping his eyes glued to the child.
Half an hour later, refreshed and scented with floral oils, Viserra emerged from the bath chamber. She thanked the maidservants sincerely for their help and asked them to leave, remaining alone with her husband and child. Viserra walked slowly to the bed, beside which stood a carved wooden cradle prepared in advance. Corlys rose from his chair, stepped over to her, and with great care laid the sleeping Daemon upon the soft featherdown of the cradle, tucking him in with a light blanket.
Husband and wife stood shoulder to shoulder by the cradle, silently admiring their firstborn. Viserra rested her head upon Corlys's shoulder, narrowed her eyes slyly, and said with a touch of gentle irony:
"You know, Corlys... For a newly minted father, you handle a babe with incredible deftness and confidence. You hold him and tend to him as though you had vast experience in the past."
Those simple words struck Corlys's heart with a sudden, sharp ache. In an instant, scenes from his past life flared in his memory - recollections of his own children, of grandchildren, of holding them in his arms in another world. A pang of deep yearning and nostalgia gripped his chest for a heartbeat, but Corlys, possessing a will of iron, betrayed not the slightest sign. He instantly mastered the emotional surge, banished the heavy thoughts into the furthest recesses of his mind, and focused entirely on the present moment.
Viserra, continuing to smile archly and look at him with playful suspicion, asked:
"Confess, Lord Velaryon... Do you by any chance have other children I still know nothing about?"
Corlys looked straight into her eyes and answered in an entirely calm voice, carrying a slight smirk:
"Not in this life, Viserra."
In saying this, he lied to her not at all, yet at the same time held back the whole truth of his past. Then Corlys added immediately, explaining his skill with babes:
"Do not forget that after my father's death, I became a true father to little Veylor in all but name. I was quite young myself, but I carried him everywhere in my arms, fed him, calmed him, and cared for him. So this is by no means my first time dealing with little babes."
Viserra accepted this entirely logical and compelling explanation without the slightest suspicion. Her face softened apologetically, and she spoke softly, leaning into him:
"Forgive me, Corlys... I did not mean to remind you of your father. I was only jesting."
"All is well, my love," Corlys replied, gently putting his arms around her shoulders and drawing her close. "And now you must rest after such a hard labor and get proper sleep. You need to regain your strength."
"Truthfully, I feel quite fine!" Viserra countered, straightening up. "There is almost no great weakness or pain."
"That is all the miraculous effect of the healing elixirs you drank," Corlys explained with a smile. "Yet your body still demands complete rest and peace. Come to bed."
Viserra did not argue, recognizing that her husband was right. She moved to their wide bed and lay down gently upon the soft pillows, pulling up the blanket. Looking at Corlys, who stood by the wardrobe, she inquired:
"Are you not coming to sleep beside me? You are surely worn out after such a day."
Corlys turned toward her, holding a small wooden case in his hands, and answered in an even tone:
"I shall lie down shortly, sweetling. But before King Jaehaerys flies in on his dragon to visit you and our son, there is one very important matter I must attend to."
He walked over to the cradle and retrieved a special needle from the case, inscribed with tiny ancient runes and enchanted. Wasting not a second, Corlys carefully lifted the tiny hand of the sleeping Daemon and, with swift, barely perceptible movements, pricked the pad of his little finger.
Seeing this, Viserra practically bolted upright in bed from shock and alarm, hissing at him with outrage:
"Corlys! What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?! Why are you hurting the child?!"
Corlys checked her outburst with a calm, reassuring gesture of his hand. He carefully pressed a clean cloth to the babe's finger, blotting away the single crimson drop of blood that had emerged, and gently placed the enchanted needle into a small silver coffer. Then Corlys motioned toward their son:
"Look upon him yourself, Viserra."
The princess shifted her frightened glance to the cradle and froze: little Daemon continued to sleep soundly and peacefully, without so much as a flinch or a sound. The enchanted needle had worked flawlessly - the child had felt nothing whatsoever.
Viserra breathed a deep sigh, wiping the sweat from her brow, though confusion still gripped her. She stared at her husband, her eyelashes fluttering as she asked:
"But why... Why did you need a drop of our newborn son's blood?!"
Corlys looked at her, a mysterious, triumphant smile blooming on his lips. He closed the lid of the coffer and spoke in a soft yet confident voice:
"Why, my dear? To hatch a dragon for our Daemon, of course!"
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A/N
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