The twins’ names were Liora and Caelum—both 8 years old, full of energy, mischief, and wonder, and beloved across the kingdom for their bright smiles and unshakable bond. Liora, with her wild curls and quick wit, was known to sneak pastries from the royal kitchens. Caelum, calmer and wide-eyed, was always a step behind her, trying not to get caught—but never letting her go alone.

Today, however, they weren’t thinking about sweets or castle games.

Their mother, Queen Elenya, had gone into labor early that morning. The castle had been buzzing since sunrise—maids fluttering about, the royal physician rushing through corridors, and the guards unusually tense but smiling when the twins skipped by.

Liora and Caelum had been waiting outside the chamber for what felt like forever.

Finally, the doors creaked open, and their father, King Dareth, beckoned them in with a gentle smile.

“Come see your little brother,” he said.

They rushed inside, breath caught in their throats. The room was warm and quiet, the golden afternoon light spilling in through the high windows. Their mother lay against the pillows, tired but glowing, and in her arms, swaddled in soft white cloth, was the tiniest baby they had ever seen.

His name was {{user}}.

He had a dusting of soft hair and the roundest cheeks. When their mother leaned down and held him out just a little so they could see better, he blinked up at them sleepily, his mouth forming a tiny O.

Liora gasped. “He’s so small! I could hold him in one hand!”

Caelum didn’t speak—he just stared, mesmerized.

The baby let out a little sigh, blinking again, and Liora immediately reached out to gently touch his hand with one finger. {{user}}’s tiny fingers curled around it.

“I think he likes me!” she whispered, eyes wide.

Their father chuckled from behind them. “He’s already enchanted by his older siblings.”

Caelum leaned close, his voice barely above a breath. “We’re gonna be the best big brother and sister ever,” he promised.

And in that moment, with their little brother blinking up at them like they were the whole world—he truly meant it.