Page 59 of Her Royal Christmas

Florence said, “I want to do the sugar part.”

“Go on then,” Alex said, handing her the scoop.

There were no explosions. No flour clouds. No sugar avalanches.

Just careful measuring and small hands trying their hardest.

Erin felt something warm start to spread through her chest. A fullness she hadn’t let herself feel in months.

Thiswas what she’d missed. Not just the sex — though God knows she missed that — but this: the quiet clumsy sweetness of doing life with the people she loved most.

Her family.

Alex brushed against her as she passed a bowl to the kids. A simple touch — elbow bumping elbow — but Erin felt it everywhere.

She glanced at Alex.

Alex’s cheeks were flushed from the oven heat. Her hair was falling from its clip. She had a streak of flour on her jaw that made her look younger, freer.

Beautiful. She is so fucking beautiful.

Erin’s breath caught for a moment.

She still felt unworthy sometimes — like she was standing next to someone carved from light and history and grace. Queen Alexandra. But then Alex would look at her, like right now, with warm knowing eyes that saidyou areexactly where you belong,and Erin’s doubts cracked open like ice under the first warmth of spring.

“All right,” she said, clearing her throat. “Butter next.”

Frank poked the softened butter. “It feels like baby cheeks.”

“Don’t say that,” Matilda said. “That’s weird.”

“Itdoes,” Frank insisted.

Erin shook her head, suppressing a laugh. “Butter in the bowl. No cheek comparisons needed.”

The dough came together beautifully.

No fights. No chaos. No disasters.

Just four beautiful laughing children, two exhausted but grateful mothers, and six dogs occasionally stealing anything that dropped to the floor.

Alex leaned into Erin’s side as they watched the kids roll out the dough.

“You’re good at this,” Alex whispered.

“At what?”

“Everything, you are such a good mum,” Alex said softly.

Erin swallowed. “It doesn’t feel like that. You are such an incredible mum. I see it everyday.”

“You’re holding us together,” Alex murmured. “Even when you think you’re falling apart.”

Erin’s throat tightened. “I’m not always doing a very good job.”

“Yes,” Alex said, voice fierce and gentle all at once. “You are.”

Erin dropped her gaze to the dough, blinking hard for a moment.