Page 44 of Royal Love
AMELIA
I stand in the doorway of what was once a spare bedroom, marveling at the transformation. Soft yellow walls, a white crib with delicate linens, a rocking chair by the window overlooking the palace gardens—it’s perfect. Well, almost perfect.
“What do you think about moving the bookshelf closer to the rocking chair?” I ask, rubbing my swollen belly as I feel a tiny foot or elbow push against my palm.
Tristan looks up from where he’s arranging stuffed animals in the crib—a task I find endlessly endearing. The King of Haldonia, meticulously positioning a plush elephant next to a giraffe, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“That makes sense,” he says, straightening. “That way you can reach for a book while you’re nursing.”
My heart swells at his thoughtfulness. Eight months pregnant, and I still can’t believe this is my life sometimes. Queen of Haldonia, married to a man who looks at me like I hung the moon and about to become a mother.
“Do you think we’re ready?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
Tristan crosses the room and wraps his arms around me from behind, his hands joining mine on my belly. “Absolutely not,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice warm with humor. “But I don’t think anyone ever is.”
I lean back against his chest, soaking in his strength. “At least we have the nursery ready.”
“Almost ready,” he corrects. “I still need to add the security features Parker insists on.”
I roll my eyes. “Our baby doesn’t need panic buttons before they’re even born.”
“Parker disagrees. And you know how he gets when we argue with him about security.”
I do know. Our head of security is fiercely protective, especially now that there’s a royal baby on the way. Sometimes I find it stifling, but mostly I’m grateful. The world we live in comes with risks, and Parker helps us navigate them.
“We should finish up,” I say reluctantly. “The guests will be arriving soon.”
Tristan groans dramatically. “Do we have to? Can’t we just tell everyone the shower is canceled and spend the day in here instead?”
I turn in his arms, looking up at him. “Nice try. My mother has been planning this for weeks. She’ll hunt us down if we try to skip out.”
“Your mother is terrifying,” he says with a smile that tells me he adores her.
“She is,” I agree. “Now help me move this bookshelf, Your Majesty, before I’m too tired to enjoy our own baby shower.”
The grand salon has been transformed with tasteful decorations in soft greens and yellows. No gendered colors since we’ve decided to wait until birth to learn whether we’re having a son or daughter. Elegant flower arrangements, delicate refreshments, and a table piled with wrapped gifts dominate the space.
“Amelia, darling!” My mother glides toward me, elegant as always in a pale blue dress that complements her silver hair. “You look radiant.”
“I feel enormous,” I confess as she embraces me.
“Nonsense. You’re carrying the future of Haldonia. There’s nothing more beautiful.” She steps back, surveying me with the critical eye that used to make me squirm as a teenager. Now I find it comforting. “Although you might want to sit down. Your ankles are starting to swell.”
Some things never change.
“Mom, please try to remember I’m a grown woman. And a queen.”
“And still my daughter.” She pats my cheek affectionately before turning to greet Shannon, who approaches with a glass of sparkling water for me.
“Your Majesty,” Shannon says with a wink. My personal assistant and friend, she’s one of the few people who helps me feel normal in this extraordinary life.
“Don’t you start,” I warn, accepting the drink gratefully.
“Rough morning?” she asks, her voice lowered so only I can hear.
“Just the usual. Backache, swollen feet, and a husband who hovers like I might break if he looks away for too long.”
Shannon laughs. “He’s adorable when he’s worried about you.”
