As Danyla's golden flames of magical energy burned, countless wisps of red mist rose from Iseryn's abdomen. Without the Red King's control, however, they were soon burned away completely.
Iseryn stroked her belly and asked, her face full of worry,
"Mother, is this child really mine, or is he the Red King?"
"Iseryn! Whoever he is, he is still your child."
Danyla drew Iseryn into her arms, her heart aching for her, and gently comforted her,
"Children cannot choose their parents, and parents cannot make their children grow up exactly as they wish. But that does not stop them from loving each other!"
The violet-gold afterglow fell across the terrace of Holy Flame Castle. Iseryn sat in a soft armchair, her hands gently cradling her swollen belly. The sea breeze brushed through her silver hair, carrying a salty tang, but her gaze never left her belly, where an unknown destiny was taking shape.
"Mother, if he is born with the Red King's memories..."
Her voice was soft, as though she feared disturbing the life within her,
"if he becomes evil someday, becomes twisted... what should I do?"
Danyla walked over to her daughter and draped a wool cloak embroidered with dragons over her shoulders. Rather than answer immediately, she bent down, pressed her ear to Iseryn's belly, and listened quietly.
Thump, thump, thump...
A faint yet steady heartbeat reached her ears, like a tiny seed striving to grow in the dark soil.
"Do you hear that?"
Danyla raised her head, the warm light of the setting sun reflected in her violet eyes,
"That is his heartbeat. Not the Red King's, not anyone else's. His alone."
She took Iseryn's hand and gently placed it on her belly.
"No matter what he becomes, he is your child. And you are his mother."