The oppressive heat of summer hangs heavy in the air, suffocating Yasmin with its stifling embrace. Her swollen belly stretches taut beneath the thin fabric of her gown, a testament to the life growing within her—a life that fills her with both joy and discomfort in equal measure.

As she reclines upon a pile of cushions in her chambers, Yasmin feels the weight of her pregnancy pressing down upon her like a burden too heavy to bear. Beads of sweat glisten upon her brow, trickling down her skin in rivulets as the stifling heat of the day threatens to overwhelm her.

Her handmaidens flutter around her like butterflies, fanning her with palm fronds and offering her cool drinks in an effort to alleviate her discomfort. But despite their ministrations, Yasmin cannot shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at her insides—a constant reminder of the life growing within her, of the responsibility that awaits her as a mother.

"Is there any word from Edrick?" She asks, her voice tinged with a note of longing.

Her handmaidens exchange glances, their expressions filled with sympathy for their mistress's plight.

"Not yet, princess" One of them replies softly.

Yasmin nods, her heart heavy with worry for her beloved. She knows that Edrick's duty as a member of the Martell guard keeps him far from her side, but she cannot help but yearn for his presence—the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand, the warmth of his embrace.

As the hours pass, the heat of the day shows no sign of abating, and Yasmin's discomfort only grows more acute. Her belly feels like a lead weight upon her, dragging her down into the depths of exhaustion. She longs for relief, for respite from the relentless onslaught of heat and humidity that surrounds her.

But even as she struggles to find comfort in the sweltering heat, Yasmin knows that she must endure—for the sake of her unborn child, for the sake of her family, for the sake of the love that binds her to Edrick, wherever he may be.

The news of Edrick's death spreads through the palace like wildfire, a dark cloud of sorrow hanging heavy in its wake. As the messenger delivers the grim tidings to Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper's heart sinks like a stone in his chest, a cold knot of dread tightening in the pit of his stomach.

He listens in silence as the messenger recounts the details of Edrick's passing—the fierce battle, the valiant sacrifice, the tragic end.

With a heavy heart, Oberyn makes his way to Yasmin's chambers, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the corridor. He knows that he must be the one to deliver the news to her—to be the bearer of sorrow in her hour of need.

As he enters the room, he finds Yasmin sitting by the window, her gaze fixed upon the horizon as if searching for some sign of hope amidst the darkness that surrounds her. Her face is pale, her eyes hollow with grief, and Oberyn's heart clenches at the sight of her pain.

"Yasmin," He says softly, his voice a gentle caress against the stillness of the room.

She turns to him, her eyes wide with apprehension, sensing the weight of his words before he even speaks them.

"What is it?" She whispers, her voice trembling with fear.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the task ahead.

"It's Edrick," He says, his voice barely above a whisper, "He's... he's gone."

Yasmin's breath catches in her throat, her heart stuttering in her chest as the full weight of his words hits her like a blow to the gut.

"No," She gasps, her voice choked with disbelief, "It can't be true."

But even as the words leave her lips, Yasmin knows that they are a futile denial—a feeble attempt to ward off the inevitable truth. And as the reality of Edrick's death settles over her like a suffocating blanket, she feels a primal scream building in the depths of her soul—a scream of anguish and despair that threatens to tear her apart from the inside out.

And then, without warning, the dam breaks, and Yasmin collapses into sobs—violent, wrenching sobs that rack her body with their intensity. She clutches at her belly, as if seeking solace in the life that grows within her, but even the promise of new life cannot stem the tide of her grief.

Oberyn moves to her side, his arms wrapping around her in a gesture of comfort and support. He holds her close as she cries, offering her the only solace he can in the face of such overwhelming loss.

For in that moment, as Yasmin's tears fall like rain, Oberyn knows that there are no words that can ease her pain, no deeds that can undo the tragedy that has befallen them. All he can do is be there for her, to hold her close and bear witness to her sorrow, as they navigate the stormy seas of grief together.

Oberyn's heart lurches in his chest as he sees the blood staining Yasmin's gown, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the cruel hand fate has dealt them. Panic courses through his veins, his hands trembling as he calls out for the maester, his voice thick with urgency.

"Maester!" He shouts, the words echoing in the stillness of the room.

Yasmin's cries of pain fill the air, a haunting melody of anguish and despair as she clutches at her swollen belly, her face contorted in agony. Oberyn moves to her side, his hands reaching out to grasp hers in a gesture of silent solidarity.

"It's going to be alright," He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

But even as he speaks the words, Oberyn knows that they offer little comfort in the face of such overwhelming tragedy. For he can see the fear in Yasmin's eyes, the uncertainty that lurks beneath the surface—a fear that mirrors his own.

As the maester rushes into the room, his hands moving with practiced efficiency as he assesses the situation, Yasmin's cries grow louder, her pain intensifying with each passing moment. Oberyn watches helplessly as she writhes in agony, her body contorted with the effort of labor.

And then, with a final, desperate push, Yasmin delivers her child—a stillborn babe, limp and lifeless in her arms. The room falls silent as the reality of their loss settles over them like a shroud, a palpable sense of grief hanging heavy in the air.

Oberyn's heart breaks at the sight of Yasmin's tears, her sobs echoing in the silence of the room. He moves to her side, his arms wrapping around her in a gesture of silent support as they mourn the loss of their child together.

And as they lay their child to rest, a stillborn angel with features so like Edrick's, they vow to honor its memory in silence.

As Yasmin leans against him, her body trembling with exhaustion, Oberyn holds her close, his arms wrapped protectively around her as if shielding her from the pain and sorrow that threaten to consume her. He can feel the weight of her grief pressing down upon him like a leaden cloak, a burden he bears willingly in the face of her suffering.

The room is silent save for the sound of Yasmin's ragged breaths, her chest rising and falling in sync with Oberyn's own. He can feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest, a comforting reminder of the life that still courses through her veins despite the loss they have endured.

For once, Oberyn allows himself to show love and care for his wife, setting aside the walls of indifference that have long stood between them. He brushes a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his touch gentle and tender as he leans down to press a kiss to her temple.

"It's going to be alright," He whispers, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yasmin's eyes flutter open at his words, their gaze meeting his with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. She leans into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace as tears stream down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," She murmurs, her voice choked with emotion, "I never meant for any of this to happen."

Oberyn shakes his head, his heart aching at the sight of her pain.

"It's not your fault, my love," He says softly, "None of this is your fault."

He holds her close, their bodies pressed together in a silent embrace as they mourn the loss of their child. In that moment, the barriers between them crumble away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered emotion that binds them together as husband and wife.

And as they cling to each other in the darkness of the night, Oberyn knows that the stillborn child was Edrick's and not his own. But it doesn't matter—not in this moment, not when Yasmin needs him more than ever.

The truth of Edrick's death weighs heavy on the hearts of those who know it, a dark shadow lurking in the corners of their minds, waiting to be revealed. But for now, it remains hidden, buried beneath layers of deception and deceit.

In the days that follow, whispers of Edrick's demise spread throughout the palace, each rumor more fanciful than the last. Some say he fell in battle, bravely defending his prince against the enemies of Dorne. Others claim he was struck down by a mysterious illness that swept through the ranks of the Martell household.

But the truth of Edrick's death is far more sinister—a secret buried deep within the walls of the Red Keep, known only to those who played a part in his untimely demise.

Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer, knows the truth of what happened that fateful night—the night Edrick stumbled upon his illicit tryst with Queen Cersei. He remembers the fear that gripped him as Edrick's eyes bore into his own, the cold realization that their secret could no longer be kept hidden.

In a moment of panic, Jamie lashed out, his hand moving with deadly precision as he struck Edrick down in cold blood. The sound of his blade slicing through the air echoes in Jamie's ears, a haunting reminder of the life he extinguished in a moment of madness.

Cersei, too, bears the weight of guilt upon her shoulders, her mind consumed by memories of that night—the night she allowed her desires to cloud her judgment, the night she betrayed her husband and her family for the sake of forbidden love.

But even as they grapple with the consequences of their actions, Jamie and Cersei know that the truth of Edrick's death must remain hidden at all costs. To reveal the truth would be to invite scandal and ruin upon their house, to risk everything they hold dear in the pursuit of justice.

And so, they keep their secret close, guarding it with their lives as they navigate the treacherous waters of court intrigue and political machinations. But deep down, they know that the truth cannot stay buried forever—that one day, it will come to light, and they will be forced to face the consequences of their actions.

But for now, the truth remains hidden, a dark stain on their souls that refuses to fade away. And as they carry on with their lives, pretending that all is well, they know that the specter of Edrick's death will continue to haunt them, a reminder of the price they paid for their forbidden love.

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