Page 16

TRISTAN

The waves crash against the shore in a steady, soothing rhythm that I’ve come to associate with peace. Sitting here on the deck of our beach house, Lia’s head resting on my shoulder as we watch the sun begin its descent toward the horizon, I feel a contentment I never thought possible.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, her voice soft against the backdrop of the ocean.

I run my fingers through her hair, savoring the silky texture. “How lucky I am,” I answer honestly. “How different everything is now.”

She shifts to look up at me, those eyes that caught me from the first moment we met still having the same effect on me now. “Good different?”

“The best different,” I assure her, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “I never imagined I could have this.”

Her hand finds mine, fingers intertwining as naturally as breathing. The slight swell of her belly presses against my side, our child growing stronger each day within her. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night just to place my hand there, to feel the connection to this new life we’ve created.

“Have you thought any more about the nursery?” Lia asks, following my gaze to where my free hand rests on her stomach.

“I was thinking maybe a sky theme,” I suggest. “Stars and clouds on the ceiling. Something timeless.”

She smiles, that radiant expression that makes my heart stumble every time. “I like that. Not too gendered, calm, peaceful.”

“Exactly.” I nod, picturing it in my mind. “The painters could start next week if we approve the design when we get back.”

The sun touches the water now, setting the ocean ablaze with orange and gold fire.

Our last evening here before returning to the reality of royal duties tomorrow.

These stolen moments at the beach house have become our sanctuary, the place where we can just be Tristan and Amelia, not King and Queen.

“We should probably talk about the nanny situation,” I say, reluctant to break the spell but knowing these practical matters need attention. “Kate sent over the files of the final candidates yesterday.”

Lia sighs, snuggling closer. “I know it’s necessary, but part of me wishes we could do it all ourselves.”

“Me too.” I kiss the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo. “But with our schedules…I want to be there for every moment I can, but?—”

“But you’re the king,” she finishes for me. “And I have my duties too.”

“We’ll make it work,” I promise. “The right nanny will be an extension of us, not a replacement. And we’ll carve out sacred family time that nothing can interrupt.”

She nods against my chest. “I liked the woman from Finland. The one with the background in early childhood development.”

“Ingrid,” I recall. “She seemed kind. Experienced too.”

“And she didn’t seem intimidated by the whole royal thing,” Lia adds with a small laugh.

“That’s definitely a point in her favor.” I smile, remembering how the woman had regarded us with respectful professionalism rather than the awkward deference that makes both of us uncomfortable.

The sun is halfway below the horizon now, painting the sky in deepening shades of purple and crimson. I’ll never tire of this view, especially with Lia beside me.

“I’ve made a decision,” I say after a moment of comfortable silence. “I’m going to continue with therapy.”

She turns to look at me, surprise and something else—pride, maybe—in her expression. “You are?”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath, still finding it difficult to articulate these things even with her. “Dr. Merrick has been helping me understand…everything I went through and how it affected me emotionally.”

Lia places her palm against my cheek, her touch grounding me. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Tristan.”

“You do?” Something in me still expects criticism for this choice, still hears my father’s voice dismissing therapy as weakness.

“Of course I do.” Her voice is firm, leaving no room for doubt. “Healing isn’t weakness. It’s one of the bravest things you can do.”

I turn to kiss her palm, overwhelmed with gratitude for this woman who sees me—truly sees me—and loves me anyway. “I want to be better,” I whisper. “For you. For our child. For Haldonia.”

“You already are.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “But I’m proud of you for doing this.”

We fall silent again, watching as the last sliver of sun disappears beneath the waves, leaving behind a canvas of stars beginning to emerge in the darkening sky. The beach house has become our refuge, but the castle is our home—complicated as it may be with all the responsibilities it represents.

“We should probably start packing,” Lia says eventually, though neither of us moves to get up.

“Five more minutes,” I bargain, pulling her closer.

She laughs softly. “You said that twenty minutes ago.”

“Time moves differently here,” I insist with a grin. “Royal decree.”

“Oh, is that how it works?” She raises an eyebrow, the teasing light in her eyes making me want to kiss her.

So, I do, capturing her lips with mine, slow and sweet and full of promise. She responds immediately, her hand coming up to curl around the nape of my neck, holding me to her as though I’d ever want to pull away.

When we finally part, both a little breathless, I rest my forehead against hers. “I love you, Lia. More than I ever thought possible.”

“I love you too,” she whispers back, the simple words carrying the weight of everything between us.

Eventually, we do make our way inside to pack for the return journey tomorrow. Parker has already arranged the security detail, and Kate has managed to clear my schedule for the morning, so we don’t have to rush. These small mercies make the transition back to royal life a little easier.

Later, as we lie in bed, the sound of the ocean a constant companion through the open windows, Lia traces patterns on my chest with her fingertips.

“Are you nervous?” she asks. “About going back?”

I consider the question seriously. “Not nervous exactly. But I’m always aware of the weight of it all when we return. Here, I can almost pretend we’re just a normal couple expecting a baby. There…” I trail off, not needing to explain further.

“There, you’re the king who’s changing everything,” she finishes. “The reformer who’s shaking up centuries of tradition.”

“And you’re the commoner queen who stole the heart of a nation,” I add with a smile, running my hand along the curve of her hip.

She laughs. “Is that what they’re calling me now?”

“Among other things. All good, I promise. The people adore you, Lia. Even more than they tolerate me.”

“They don’t tolerate you,” she corrects gently. “They’re beginning to trust you. There’s a difference.”

I hope she’s right. The path I’ve chosen isn’t the easy one, pushing for reforms that my father would have considered sacrilege. But it’s the right one, I’m certain of that.

“Get some sleep,” Lia murmurs, pressing a kiss to my chest. “Tomorrow will be busy.”

She falls asleep quickly, her breathing evening out into a rhythm as familiar to me now as my own heartbeat. I lie awake a little longer, watching the moonlight play across her features, committing this peaceful moment to memory to carry with me into whatever challenges await us at home.

The drive back to the capital takes longer than expected, a sudden summer storm forcing the Range Rover to slow to a crawl for safety. Parker, ever vigilant, sits in the front passenger seat, occasionally checking in with others who are watching CCTV via an earpiece.

“Everything all right?” I ask after the third such exchange.

He turns slightly. “Yes, sir. Just standard protocol with the weather conditions.”

I nod, trusting him implicitly as always. Beside me, Lia dozes lightly, the pregnancy making her tired more easily these days. I keep my arm around her, letting her use my shoulder as a pillow despite the formal suit I’m already wearing in preparation for our return.

As we finally approach the city limits, Parker’s posture changes subtly. “Sir, there appears to be a gathering near the castle approach.”

Instantly alert, I feel my body tense. “What kind of gathering?”

“Not a security concern,” he assures me quickly. “Civilians. Quite a number of them.”

My mind races through possibilities—a protest? Some news while we were away? “Do we know what it’s about?”

“Reports indicate they’re supporters, sir.” There’s something almost like amusement in Parker’s usually stoic expression. “Many are holding signs.”

This wakes Lia, who blinks sleepily. “What’s happening?”

“Apparently we have a welcoming committee,” I tell her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

As our car turns onto the main avenue leading to the castle gates, I see them—hundreds of people lining both sides of the street, umbrellas open against the light rain that still falls. And Parker was right—they’re holding signs.

“haldonia stands with king tristan”

“reform now”

“long live the queen”

“thank you for fighting for us all”

Lia’s hand tightens in mine as she takes in the scene. “Oh, Tristan,” she breathes.

For once, I’m speechless. These aren’t the wealthy elite who have traditionally surrounded the monarchy. These are ordinary Haldonians—shopkeepers, teachers, factory workers, students—standing in the rain to show their support.

“Should I slow down, sir?” our driver asks.

I hesitate only briefly. “Yes. And lower the windows, please.”

Parker gives me a sharp look but doesn’t object when I add, “Just a crack. Enough to acknowledge them.”

As the windows lower, the sound of cheering reaches us, growing louder as people realize we can hear them. I raise my hand in acknowledgment, and the cheers intensify.

“They believe in you,” Lia says, her voice thick with emotion. “They believe in what you’re trying to do.”

The lump in my throat makes it hard to respond.

All these months of fighting against the old guard, pushing for changes that would give more Haldonians a voice, a chance at better lives—there have been times I’ve questioned whether it was worth the constant battle.

Whether I was fooling myself that one person, even a king, could really make a difference.

But looking at these faces, these ordinary citizens willing to stand in the rain to show their support, I know with certainty that we’re on the right path.

“We have to keep going,” I say, as much to myself as to Lia. “No matter how hard it gets.”

She takes my hand and places it on her stomach, where our child grows stronger each day. “For the future,” she says simply.

“For the future,” I agree, as our car continues slowly down the avenue toward home, surrounded by the people who remind me why every struggle is worthwhile.

I may never be the king my father wanted me to be. But looking at these faces, hearing their voices raised in support, I think perhaps I’m becoming the king Haldonia needs. And with Lia by my side, and our child on the way, I’ve never been more determined to honor their faith in me.

The castle looms ahead, still imposing with its centuries of history, but no longer feeling like a prison.

Instead, it’s becoming what it should always have been—the heart of a nation moving forward together.

And as we pass through the gates, I carry the image of those rain-soaked supporters with me, a reminder that we’re not alone in this fight.

Not anymore.