II. Hope Ivorwen sat upon the battered stone windowsill of the remains of the King’s House within the ancient keep of Fornost, holding her swaddled grandson close to her breast. He lay still enough within his blankets, his infant eyes staring up at her face as if fascinated by the wrinkles to be seen in her cheeks and brows ( Read more... )

A true drabble:

Nativity of a Future King “The child was safely born ( Read more... )