Hundred and Fiveteen

Oma's POV.

As I held my newborn baby in my arms, a wave of indescribable joy washed over me. The tiny bundle nestled against my chest, his soft breaths creating a sweet melody that resonated deep within my soul. I marveled at the miracle of life, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this precious gift bestowed upon me.

In the castle's nursery, bathed in warm sunlight streaming through the window, I sat in a comfortable rocking chair, cradling my little one. The room was adorned with delicate mobiles and colorful toys, creating a whimsical atmosphere that captured the innocence and wonder of childhood. I gently rocked back and forth, lulling my baby into a peaceful slumber.

As his eyelids fluttered closed, I studied his delicate features. His button nose, tiny rosebud lips, and wisps of fine hair were a testament to the beauty of new beginnings. Every movement, every sound he made was a testament to his vulnerability, reminding me of the immense responsibility and privilege o