Page 34 of Royal Love
“Just promise you’ll tell me if it becomes too much.”
“I promise,” I whisper, tilting my head to give him better access. His hands slide across the silk of my robe, and I briefly consider calling Shannon to tell her I’ll be late.
As if reading my thoughts, Tristan steps back with a wicked grin. “Later,” he promises, his eyes dark with intent. “We both have obligations this morning.”
I pout playfully. “Being responsible is overrated.”
His laugh follows me as I retreat to the closet to choose my outfit for the day.
“I’m thinking we set up auction tables along this wall,” Shannon says, gesturing to the blueprint of the grand ballroom spread across my desk. “Silent auction items for the first hour, then we move to the live auction after dinner.”
I nod, making a note on my tablet, shifting slightly in my chair to find a more comfortable position for my growing belly. “And what about entertainment? Has the symphony confirmed?”
“They have, and they’re donating their time.” Shannon tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, checking her own notes. “Also, the chef has three menu options for your approval.”
The familiar rhythm of work soothes me. Despite my illness, Shannon has kept everything running smoothly, and we’re only slightly behind schedule for the Children of Heroes gala—our first major event focused on supporting children who lost parents during the war. It’s a cause close to my heart, a way to honor those who sacrificed everything for Haldonia.
“You know,” Shannon says, setting down her pen, “you could have taken another day or two. No one would have minded.”
I shake my head. “I’ve been cooped up long enough. Besides, this gala matters.” I tap the fundraising projections. “These children need more than just our sympathy.”
“Your Majesty is very dedicated,” she says with a smile that reaches her eyes. After working closely for months, Shannon has become more than just my secretary—she’s become a friend, one of the few people in the palace who sees me as Amelia first, queen second.
“Speaking of dedication,” I say, glancing at the clock, “did Parker confirm the reservation for tonight?”
“He did. Seven o’clock at Lumière. The owner is thrilled you’ve chosen his restaurant for your first public appearance since your illness.” She smiles, adding, “He also mentioned they’re preparing a special mocktail menu just for Your Majesty. The press is already buzzing about the royal couple’s first night out since announcing the pregnancy.”
I can’t help but smile. The visit to the restaurant is Tristan’s idea—a way to support local businesses while also letting the public see that their queen is recovered. The fact that Lumière is known for its romantic atmosphere and exceptional wine list is just a bonus.
“Perfect. Now, about these donor recognition levels…”
By late afternoon, I’ve reviewed budget projections, approved invitations, and selected auction items for the gala. My head is swimming with numbers and logistics, but there’s satisfaction in the progress we’ve made.
“I think that’s enough for today,” Shannon declares, gathering her tablet and notes. “You don’t want to overdo it on your first day back.”
I stretch, feeling the tightness in my shoulders from hours hunched over paperwork. “You’re probably right. Besides, I need to get ready for tonight.”
“The blue Valentino?” she suggests. “It photographed beautifully at the embassy reception.”
“Hmm, I was thinking the burgundy Ellie Saab maternity design. It’s new, and Tristan hasn’t seen it yet.” I smile, already imagining his reaction. The designer had created several pieces specifically tailored to flatter my changing figure, embracing rather than hiding my pregnancy.
Shannon laughs. “Ah, so we’re aiming to render His Majesty speechless in public.”
“It’s good for him,” I say with a mischievous grin. “Keeps him on his toes. Besides, the public loves seeing the baby bump. Might as well give them a good view.”
After Shannon leaves, I review one last document—a proposal for expanding the Children of Heroes program to include educational scholarships. It’s ambitious, but with the right support, entirely achievable. I make a few notes before closing the file.
As I prepare to leave my office, there’s a knock at the door. Parker enters, Tristan’s ever-present shadow except when the king dismisses him—which happens frequently when we’re alone.
“Your Majesty,” he says with a slight bow. “His Majesty asked me to remind you about this evening and to say he’s looking forward to it.”
I smile. “Thank you, Parker. Please tell him I’m equally excited.”
Parker hesitates, and I raise an eyebrow. “Something else?”
“He also asked me to give you this.” He holds out a small velvet box.
My heart flutters as I take it. Inside is a delicate pair of ruby earrings that will match my dress perfectly. Trust Tristan to know exactly what I’ve chosen to wear without being told.
