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Summary
It was customary in any royal family to have two sons. One to rule, one to replace. This was something Talia knew well, had been mentioned to her, thrummed in her blood like Lazarus water, sickly, nauseating, invasive. This was something that, in the secrecy of her own heart, she hoped to never fulfill.
It left her with something bitter when she saw two sets of eyes staring up at her, electric green and frozen blue.
So, so bitter. Because for all her training, for all her Father's legacy, the detached interest in her adolescence, she knew that she would love her two boys viciously, like the she-wolf protecting Romulus and Remus.
It felt only natural to name the two Damian and Danyal – a pair, as they should be.
A pair, like they soon would not be allowed.
But she would do what she needed. She will do anything for her sons. Even this.