Page 24 of Royal Love
She takes my hand and places it on her stomach, where our child grows stronger each day. “For the future,” she says simply.
“For the future,” I agree, as our car continues slowly down the avenue toward home, surrounded by the people who remind me why every struggle is worthwhile.
I may never be the king my father wanted me to be. But looking at these faces, hearing their voices raised in support, I think perhaps I’m becoming the king Haldonia needs. And withLia by my side, and our child on the way, I’ve never been more determined to honor their faith in me.
The castle looms ahead, still imposing with its centuries of history, but no longer feeling like a prison. Instead, it’s becoming what it should always have been—the heart of a nation moving forward together. And as we pass through the gates, I carry the image of those rain-soaked supporters with me, a reminder that we’re not alone in this fight.
Not anymore.
CHAPTER 17
AMELIA
Monday morning arrives with a vengeance. My alarm blares at five thirty a.m., and I silence it before it can wake Tristan. He came to bed late after a call with the ambassador from neighboring Bellovia. I slip out from under the covers, careful not to disturb him, and make my way to the bathroom.
The mirror reflects a paler version of myself than I’m comfortable with. I splash cold water on my face, willing the color to return to my cheeks. “This pregnancy glow they talk about is a myth,” I whisper to my reflection, placing my hand on my round stomach.
By seven, I’m dressed and reviewing my schedule with Shannon in my office.
“The children from St. Mary’s Academy will be arriving at nine for the library dedication,” she says, sliding a folder across my desk. “Your speech is inside, along with background on the school. The press will be there.”
I nod, skimming the speech. “Have we confirmed the hospital visit for Wednesday?”
“Yes, though the Minister of Health suggested postponing until after flu season. He’s concerned about exposure in your condition.”
“I won’t postpone. Those children have been waiting for this visit.” I push the folder back toward her, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me.
Shannon notices immediately. “Amelia? Are you all right?”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “Fine. Just the usual pregnancy stuff.” I place a hand protectively over my abdomen. “Let’s go over the rest of the week.”
The morning proceeds as planned. The library dedication goes smoothly, though the flash of cameras and the scent of fresh paint make my stomach churn. I manage to make it through my speech, focusing on the excited faces of the children rather than the growing discomfort in my abdomen.
By noon, I’m back in my office, attempting to focus on correspondence when the nausea hits with unexpected force. I barely make it to the private bathroom, emptying what little breakfast I managed to eat into the toilet. Cold sweat breaks out across my forehead as I grip the porcelain, willing my stomach to settle.
A gentle knock sounds at the door. “Amelia?” Shannon’s voice is tinged with concern.
“Just a minute,” I call back, my voice weaker than I intended. I rinse my mouth and check my appearance in the mirror. The woman staring back looks ghostly.
When I emerge, Shannon’s eyes widen. “That’s it. I’m calling Dr. Bennett.”
“No,” I protest, but the room tilts suddenly, and I grasp the doorframe to keep from falling. “It’s just morning sickness. It’ll pass.”
Shannon guides me to the sofa. “Morning sickness doesn’t usually include that shade of green. Not to mention you haven’thad a ton of it the entire time you’ve been pregnant. Please, let me call him.”
Before I can argue further, another wave of nausea sends me rushing back to the bathroom. This time, there’s nothing left to bring up, but my body doesn’t seem to care. I retch painfully as Shannon holds my hair back.
“This isn’t normal,” she says firmly. “Even for pregnancy.”
I slump against the wall, too exhausted to argue.
“The entire kingdom is invested in this baby, Amelia. We can’t take chances.” She dampens a cloth and presses it to my forehead. “The king asked me to keep an eye on you while you were working. He’s worried.”
Another wave of nausea crashes over me, and this time, when it passes, I nod weakly. “Call Dr. Bennett.”
Shannon doesn’t waste time. Within twenty minutes, the royal physician is in my office, his face grave as he examines me.
“Your Majesty, how long have you been feeling like this?” he asks, taking my blood pressure.
