Page 92 of Her Royal Christmas

At the scattered evidence of children everywhere: a small sock under the coffee table, a toy knight guarding a coaster, a crumpled drawing of a lopsided reindeer leaning against the skirting board.

At Juno now snoring with her head half on the rug and half on Mrs. MacLeod’s slipper.

At Mrs. MacLeod herself, pretending to be asleep but clearly listening to every word.

Big, messy, imperfect. Alive.

Vic’s chest ached in the best way.

“You did this,” Julia said softly.

Vic shook her head. “We did this.”

“Yes,” Julia said. “We did. And they did. That’s the point.”

Vic leaned into her, letting herself be held again, just a little.

Across the room, Erin felt a wave of gratitude that she knew, without quite understanding how, was shared by everyone present.

They had weathered so much. Individually. Together. Seen and unseen.

There would be more storms to come. Life promised nothing less.

But tonight—this Boxing Day evening, with the snow holding steady and the fire burning warm and the sound of small breaths echoing faintly from upstairs—they were at peace.

Alex turned her head and rested it on Erin’s shoulder, eyes drifting shut for a moment.

“You know,” she murmured, “if you told me ten years ago this would be my life, I would have assumed you’d mixed up your files with someone else’s.”

Erin smiled faintly. “Ten years ago, if you’d told me I’d be voluntarily spending Christmas with four small children and live reindeer, I’d have assumed you were having a stroke.”

Alex laughed softly. “Do you regret it?”

“Not a second,” Erin said.

Not the triplets.

Not Hyz.

Not the chaos or the sleepless nights or the worry or the way her heart now existed in four small fragments that ran up and down castle stairs.

And certainly not Alex.

“If you had to go back and choose again?” Alex asked quietly.

Erin turned, kissing her hair, tasting salt and smoke and a hint of the chocolate they’d shared after dinner.

“I’d still choose you,” she said. “Every time.”

Alex’s fingers tightened around hers.

“Good,” Alex whispered. “Because I’d choose you too. Every time.”

“And Vic,” Erin added, deadpan.

“And Vic,” Alex agreed.

From the other sofa, without opening her eyes, Vic said, “I heard that.”