“Looks perfect to me,” Amelia says from across the room, where Shannon is helping her into a simple blue dress that will be comfortable for the journey home.
I scoop Eleanor up, pressing a kiss to her forehead before wrapping her in the soft blanket embroidered with the Haldonian royal crest—a gift from the prime minister. “Ready to see your kingdom, Princess Eleanor?”
“I just need five more minutes,” Amelia says as Shannon helps arrange her hair into a simple style.
“Take your time. I’ll go bring the car around to the private entrance.” I carefully transfer Eleanor to Shannon’s waiting arms. “Be right back.”
Parker falls into step beside me as I exit the room. “Everything’s secure, sir. We have the route cleared and teams positioned at both exits.”
“And the decoy?” I ask, knowing the paparazzi will be waiting.
“In place. Though you should expect photographers at the main entrance as well. They’ve been camped out since news of the birth broke.”
I nod, accepting this as part of our reality. “Let’s get this over with, then.”
When I exit through the main doors of the hospital to retrieve the Range Rover I insisted on driving myself, camera flashes immediately erupt from the cordoned-off area where the press waits. I raise a hand in acknowledgment but continue toward the parking structure.
“Your Majesty!” one of them calls out. “How does it feel to be a father?”
I pause, turning slightly. “Extraordinary,” I answer honestly.
“You’re setting a great example, bringing the car around yourself!” another shouts.
I manage a smile. “Just doing what any father would do.”
The cameras continue clicking as I make my way to the Range Rover. Once inside, I take a deep breath, allowing myself one private moment before driving to the hospital’s private entrance where Amelia and Eleanor will be waiting.
Parker meets me at the entrance, supervising as the hospital staff help Amelia into the back seat. Shannon carefully transfers Eleanor to the car seat we had installed and checked three timesfor safety. I watch like a hawk as they secure my daughter, making sure every strap is perfectly positioned.
Finally, Amelia squeezes my hand. “She’s fine, Tristan. Let’s go home.”
I nod, closing her door before walking around to the driver’s side. Parker takes his position in the security vehicle that will follow us, and I see him speaking into his radio, coordinating our departure.
As we pull away from the hospital, I glance in the rearview mirror to see Amelia watching our daughter with a mixture of awe and exhaustion on her beautiful face.
“You were incredible,” I tell her, reaching back to squeeze her knee. “I’m so proud of you.”
“We did it together,” she says, though her eyes never leave Eleanor. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“That’s not true, but I’ll accept the compliment.” I focus on the road ahead, keeping to the exact route Parker had planned. “Welcome to your first royal motorcade, Princess Eleanor.”
“She’s sleeping through it.” Amelia laughs softly.
“Smart girl. Conserving her energy for when we get home.”
The palace comes into view—home—and for the first time, I see it through new eyes. It’s no longer just the place where I rule from. It’s where our daughter will take her first steps, say her first words, grow up surrounded by love that my own childhood never knew.
“We’re home,” I say, my voice thick with emotion as I drive through the gates that open automatically for us.
Amelia’s hand finds mine again. “The three of us.”
I squeeze her fingers, overcome with gratitude for this family we’ve created. “The three of us,” I repeat, as I park in front of our private entrance, ready to begin this new chapter of our lives together.
CHAPTER 29
AMELIA
The soft glow of the nursery lamp casts gentle shadows across the room as I shift Eleanor to my other breast, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots through me. Three days at home with our newborn, and breastfeeding still feels like an impossible challenge. The lactation consultant who visited yesterday assured me this was normal, that it would get easier, but right now, with my nipples cracked and sore and Eleanor fussing against me, I’m finding it hard to believe.