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AMELIA

The gentle creaking of the rocking chair fills the nursery as I sway back and forth, Ellie nestled against my chest. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, but she fights it, tiny fists opening and closing against my nightgown as she stubbornly tries to stay awake.

Just like her father, I think with a smile, always resisting rest when there’s more to experience.

Tomorrow marks my official return to royal duties—my first full schedule of engagements since giving birth six weeks ago.

While I’ve maintained certain responsibilities from home and made the appearance at the daycare center, tomorrow signals a true return to the balancing act of being both queen and mother.

My stomach twists with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

I press my lips to Ellie’s downy head, breathing in her sweet scent, trying to memorize this feeling of her warm weight against me.

Will she miss me? Will I miss some important milestone while sitting through a meeting? Am I making the right choice?

The soft click of the door interrupts my spiraling thoughts. Tristan enters carrying a tray, moving with the careful quiet that we’ve both mastered over the past few weeks of parenthood.

“I thought you might need reinforcements,” he whispers, setting the tray on the small table beside the rocking chair. I see two steaming mugs of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, and a bowl of ice cream with chocolate sauce drizzled artfully over the top.

“Comfort food?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, a boyish smile playing at his lips. “I figured you could use it. Pre-first-day-back jitters and all.”

“How did you know?” I shift Ellie slightly to accept the mug he offers.

“Because I know you,” he says simply, settling into the armchair across from me with his own hot chocolate. “And because I heard you pacing in here for the last hour.”

I take a sip of the rich chocolate, feeling warmth spread through me. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

“Not at all.” His expression grows serious. “It’s a big step, going back.”

“I keep telling myself that women do this all the time,” I say, glancing down at Ellie, whose eyelids are finally beginning to flutter closed. “Return to work, leave their babies with capable caregivers, continue with their lives.”

“True,” Tristan agrees, leaning forward. “But that doesn’t make it easy. And most women aren’t also the queen of Haldonia.”

I laugh softly. “There is that small detail.”

He sets down his mug and moves to perch on the ottoman beside my rocking chair, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

“Lia,” he says softly, using the nickname only he is allowed. “You know you don’t have to do this yet, right? If you want more time, it’s yours. No one would question the queen taking a longer maternity leave.”

The offer is tempting—more mornings watching Ellie’s face light up when she sees me, more afternoons spent singing to her as she kicks her legs during tummy time, more evenings like this, rocking her to sleep while the world carries on without us.

But there’s something else pulling at me, too. A responsibility that extends beyond the walls of the nursery.

“I want to do this,” I say, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. “I need to.”

“Why?” Tristan asks, not challenging but curious, wanting to understand.

I take a moment to find the right words.

“Because I want to be the kind of queen our people can relate to. A woman who loves her child fiercely but who also has ambitions and responsibilities beyond motherhood.” I look down at Ellie, now sleeping peacefully against me.

“I want her to grow up seeing that it’s possible to be both—a mother and a leader. ”

Tristan’s eyes shine with understanding and something deeper—pride, perhaps. “You’re remarkable, you know that?”

“I’m terrified,” I admit. “What if I can’t do it all? What if I fail at both?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he says, reaching for the bowl of ice cream and offering me a spoonful. “That’s what partners do.”

I accept the bite, savoring the cool sweetness as it melts on my tongue. “Partners,” I repeat. “Not exactly what we signed up for when our parents arranged this marriage, is it?”

Tristan laughs quietly. “Not even close. I was expecting a political alliance at best, constant warfare at worst.”

“And instead?” I prompt, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it.

He takes the empty mug from my hand and sets it aside, then reaches out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “Instead, I found the love of my life and the mother of my child. I’d say we got extraordinarily lucky.”

“We did,” I agree, feeling the truth of it settle deep in my bones. This arrangement that once filled me with dread has become the greatest blessing of my life.

Ellie stirs against me, her little body completely relaxed in sleep. “I think she’s finally out,” I whisper.

Tristan stands, holding out his arms to take her. “Let me put her down.”

I transfer our daughter carefully, watching as Tristan cradles her with practiced ease, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before laying her in the crib. He stands over her for a long moment, his face softened with love in a way that still makes my heart skip.

I join him, sliding my arm around his waist as we both gaze down at our sleeping daughter. “She looks so peaceful,” I murmur.

“She has no idea she’s a princess,” Tristan says with wonder in his voice. “No idea the weight that comes with that crown.”

“We’ll help her carry it,” I promise. “We’ll make sure she knows she’s loved for who she is, not what title she holds.”

Tristan turns to face me, taking both my hands in his. “Just as I love you for who you are, not because you’re my queen.”

“And I love you for the man you are, not because you’re my king,” I reply, leaning into him. “Who would have thought an arranged marriage could turn into this?”

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer. “The best diplomatic arrangement in Haldonian history,” he murmurs against my hair.

I laugh softly, careful not to wake Ellie. “We should tell our diplomats to try it more often.”

“No,” Tristan says, pulling back to look into my eyes. “What we have is rare, Lia. A love match disguised as a political necessity. I don’t think lightning strikes that way twice.”

The conviction in his voice makes my chest tighten with emotion. “Then I guess we got extraordinarily lucky,” I whisper, echoing his earlier words.

“Beyond lucky,” he agrees, his forehead coming to rest against mine. “And tomorrow, when you step back into your royal duties, I’ll be right beside you, just as I’ve been here with you through these first weeks with Ellie.”

“Partners,” I say again, the word now carrying the weight of a vow.

“In parenting, in ruling, in everything,” Tristan confirms. “Always.”

As we stand together beside our daughter’s crib, the moonlight streaming through the window illuminates the three of us—a family created from duty but sustained by love.

Tomorrow will bring new challenges, the delicate balance of motherhood and monarchy, but tonight, in this perfect moment, I know with absolute certainty that we will face it all together, stronger for the unexpected love we’ve found in each other.