Page 69 of Coronation (Royally Forbidden #1)
One Year Later
Benedict
O nce, the center of the maze was a place of sanctuary for me.
When the world crashed forward, carrying on with its machinations whether they suited me or not, it was a relief to have a place where time stood still. Seasons changed, people died, babies were born, and still the maze remained the same.
I don’t need it in the way I once did. In fact, it’s been months and months since I walked through, having spent the spring and summer engrossed in my new life. The life that has made me so happy, I don’t feel the need to escape it.
This morning, however, I looked out the window of my study and saw the leaves of the great oak beginning to change from green to red.
Knowing it would be the last properly warm day Stelland would see for some time, I was overcome with the sudden desire to visit the place which has always been so special to me, with the people who made me no longer need it.
My wife required no convincing. So, with only a dozen canceled items on our respective agendas to show for it, we set out for the center of the maze as a family of three for the very first time.
It took us longer than it would ordinarily, with an emergency diaper change in the middle of the path and a considerable amount of crying at the injustice of it all. There was no urgency, however, and I found myself enjoying the chaotic journey quite as much as I would the destination.
When we finally made it to the center, Zelda stood back, nursing our daughter, as I laid out the blanket, picnic, and toys we’d brought in the shade of the oak. Then, Zelda set Alice in the center, and we took each side, preventing our increasingly mobile girl from getting too far.
“That’s a Ben face,” Zelda tells me, obviously fighting a smile as she allows our daughter to play with her finger. Alice’s tiny face is scrunched up and indignant as she tries to maneuver limbs that don’t quite do as she wishes yet.
Chuckling, I lay back on the blanket, enjoying the sun on my skin and the peace that being in this place has always brought me. It’s the first visit we’ve managed since our girl arrived, pink-faced and howling, at the end of March.
Princess Alice Juliette Ashwell, the first daughter born to the royal family in five generations, was welcomed into the world with great excitement.
There were comments, certainly, about the six months between her parents’ marriage and her birth.
Fortunately, we learned that many sins are forgiven with a cute baby.
Not that I put any stock in that sort of nonsense, but I have bookmarked at least four articles that have declared my baby cuter than any of the other high-profile babies born this year.
Even tabloids stumble upon the truth every so often.
“You say that every time she’s disgruntled,” I tell my wife, and hear her sigh as Alice’s tiny fingers find my hair, fisting the strands with a surprising strength. Grimacing, I crack open one eye, watching upside down as Zelda leans over, carefully loosening our daughter’s grip.
In the interest of preventing a repeat of the abuse, I roll over onto my side, grinning down at the tiny girl spread out on the blanket between me and her mother.
Despite Zelda’s frequent insistence, I see far more of my wife in our daughter than I do myself.
She has Zelda’s dark hair, bright blue eyes, and is already showing signs of having inherited the astonishing beauty which never fails to strike me dumb at the most inconvenient of moments.
Alice rolls onto her stomach, squawking indignantly as she tries to push herself over the blanket to reach the colorful toy we set out for her. “You can do it, baby girl,” Zelda laughs, her face shining as she props her head on her hand to watch.
My heart expands as I allow myself to sink into the moment, overcome with gratitude for both of them.
“She’ll be crawling any day now,” I observe as Alice’s little eyebrows knit together in frustration, the blanket beneath her proving a less-than-ideal dragging surface than the living room floor. “We’ll need to finish the babyproofing when she’s down tonight.”
Zelda’s brilliant eyes flick up to meet mine, her smile growing mischievous. “Is that the only item on your agenda tonight, Your Highness?”
I consider this. “You know, I think I’ll actually have Harrold take care of it all tomorrow.”
My wife’s laughter dances on the breeze over the hedges around us, and I am struck, for perhaps the tenth time today alone, how much I owe this woman. To say she has changed my entire life would be a gross understatement, when it’s me that’s been changed so completely.
Before her, I was miserable and alone. I started every day feeling like more of a failure than the day before, and now…
now everything is different. I wake beside a wife I truly love, and when I get up, the first thing I do is cross to the crib beside our bed to pick up the baby we made together.
The baby who smiles and flaps her arms when she sees me, eager for me to pick her up and cuddle her, before bringing her to her mother for feeding.
Being king will never be something I’m naturally suited to, or even like, but I’ve found a purpose in my work, and in making this country a better place.
Zelda, on the other hand, is thriving as queen.
She might not have been born to her role, or to Stelland, but she has the love of our people for her tireless work and efforts to immerse herself in our nation’s history and culture.
The fact that she does it all with the crown princess in a sling across her chest only earns her more admiration.
I can hardly blame my people. She’s remarkable, and I’m rather obsessed with her, too.
“You know, I was thinking…” Zelda trails off, with the air of a wife proposing a plan she’s not at all confident her husband will like. “That if we have another one, we should do it kind of soon.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Another one?”
Between us, Alice flops down on her stomach, gnawing on the toy she managed to retrieve.
Zelda lifts her shoulder, eyes on our daughter. “I’m not saying now . But maybe in a few months? You and Leo are close in age, and so are me and Syb. I’d love for her to have a little sister or brother to torture.” Her gaze moves to meet mine, and I can see the hope in it .
She’s asking me to give her another baby, and in doing so, healing a fear I hadn’t realized existed. I know my wife loves me, and our baby, and our life, but there may have been a small sliver of worry she’d felt the tiniest bit cornered.
Chest full to bursting, I reach over Alice to touch her mother’s face. “Just tell me when you’re ready, darling.”