Heir to the throne: Broken Blood

ROMAN.

Senna reclined on the plush examination table as the midwives poked and prodded her belly. One ancient crone placed a serpent against her taut skin, for it to listen intently.

"The heartbeat resonatessss  sssstrongly, Your Majesty," the snakes proclaimed in a scratchy whisper. "Vigorous as a basilisk's thrumming scales. This child will be a mighty heir."

Senna smiled wanly, caressing her burgeoning bump. As the midwives finished their ministrations, she swept from the chambers - only to almost collide with her  Roman in the corridor outside.

The legendary Serpent Champion cut an intimidating figure, even filthy and disheveled from his latest arena exploits. A crimson gash oozed along his muscled forearm as he made his way towards the infirmary.

"If only our forces could harness the ferocity I wield so effortlessly," Roman sneered, eyeing the wound dispassionately. "This paltry skirmish with trainees would be over in a matter of hours."

Senna's breath hitched as distant memories resurfaced - A forbidden dalliance decades past when she and Roman had been reckless, lovestruck youths...

His rugged features had been softer then, lean and flushed with adolescent mischief as they'd disguised themselves to sneak into the village tavern. She could still recall the way his smoldering eyes had shone as she shed her concealing shawl, crimson tresses cascading free.

She recalls a time where Laughter and raucous music had spilled through the smokey den's open windows of the town's tavern beckoning them into the very depths of debauchery. They'd only managed a few giddy sips of ale before screams shattered the night outside.

"Acroan raiders! They're here!"

In the ensuing chaos and mass stampede, her scarf - and with it, her concealing shades -  had been ripped away. Senna's striking Wessex beauty, from her vivid ginger hair to mismatched iridescent eyes, was left devastatingly exposed.

She could still hear the bloodthirsty shouts of "Get her! A royal Wessex bitch!" as vicious hands snatched at her skirts, tearing, clawing...

Until Roman's wiry form had crashed into the fray, l fire blazing from his gaze. What happened next was little more than a crimson blur - flashing steel cleaving through screaming flesh as he cut a swath straight to her. Senna clearly recalled being hoisted unceremoniously over his shoulder and put on the horse as he fought off their pursuers with savage, berserker fury. After witnessing this roman was sent to the battlefield.

His prowess on the battlefield was unparalleled, earning him equal parts reverence and fear earming him the name SoulTaker. Roman dominated the field petrifying acroans and turning back human to fight them just for fun. It became to easy for him after a while. Senna's mother had been forced to recall him before his bloodlust spiraled completely out of control, becoming an aspect-twisted engine of destruction.

The memory of those torrid days rushed back in full force, leaving Senna's head spinning. She was only jolted back to the present by Roman's concerned voice in her ear.

"Are you quite alright, my queen? You look a bit flushed..."

Senna shook herself, quickly adopting a regal mask as she gestured to her gravid form. "Merely the rigors of childbearing that have me feeling faint. The midwives assure me it's nothing to be concerned over."

Roman's lips twitched in a bemused half-smile as he brushed a chaste kiss across her knuckles. "Then I shall leave you to your respite . Lest I risk any further exertions by lingering too close to your radiant presence overlong."

As his powerful form retreated down the corridor, Senna found herself subconsciously cradling her womb, wondering if the child quickening within would inherit any of its sire's...unrestrained proclivities.