Royal Christmas Baby

by Renna Peak

  “Ah, this is about the heir thing again, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. And I really think we need to discuss—”

  “What’s there to discuss? I already told you we’re fine with it.”

  I wish I could take my brother at his word, but there’s a slight edge to his voice that troubles me. So I push a little further.

  “I just think it might be wise to discuss all the—”

  “We’re fine,” my brother snaps. “Seriously, Andrew, how many times do I have to say it? Who cares who’s the bloody heir?”

  “Many people, actually,” I say as my temples begin to pound. I stuff my hand back into my pocket, finding the lump of metal and squeezing it in my fist. “I’m not looking for the easy way out, Leopold. There’s no need to spare my feelings. If there are things to resolve, I’d prefer to do it sooner rather than later.”

  “What’s there to resolve? Your child will be the heir, Matthew won’t. The law is pretty clear on the matter. There’s nothing left to resolve. It doesn’t matter how I feel. Or how Elle feels. Or how Matthew will feel when he’s old enough to understand these things. The law is clear, as you’re so quick to constantly point out. Have a good evening, Brother.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. Instead, he goes over to his wife and child by the pond. He murmurs something into Eleanor’s ear, and she bends over and picks Matthew up into her arms. She glances over and gives me a little wave of farewell as they continue down the path.

  My brother, however, doesn’t glance my way again.

  Victoria

  There’s a soft rapping on my bedroom door. It’s late afternoon—unless something is really wrong, it won’t be Andrew on the other side. He’s been spending far too much time working these days—he says it’s because he’s preparing to take time off when the baby arrives, but I somehow doubt he’ll be able to keep himself away from his desk even after the birth of our child.

  The door opens a crack, and Elle peers inside, giving me a small smile. “Can I come in?”

  I sit up as much as I’m allowed, waving her inside.

  “Don’t…you don’t have to get up for me.”

  “Well, considering I’ve been pretty much chained to this bed for the past six months, it would be a welcome reprieve.”

  She gives me a tight-lipped smile, and I can see something is wrong. Elle hasn’t been by to visit much in the past few months. I’ve told myself it’s because of her baby—she and Leo have been really wrapped up in Matthew since he was born. Not that I blame her at all—I hope to be equally preoccupied myself in a few weeks.

  “Where’s Matthew?” I smile, trying to at least encourage some conversation.

  “He’s…” She frowns. “He’s with Leo. Father-son time. I never thought it would be possible, but Leo loves it.” She’s still frowning, her expression not matching her happy words.

  “Is something wrong?” I turn myself in bed to face her, motioning for her to take the chair next to the bed.

  She lifts a brow, eyeing me carefully for a moment before she comes over to sit beside me.

  Elle and I know each other well enough for me to see that something is going on. “What is it?”

  “Can you…?” She lets out a long breath. “Can you tell Andrew to back off?”

  “Back off?” I’m sure she can see the confusion on my face.

  “Yeah. About the whole heir thing.” She shakes her head. “Leo took it pretty hard, you know. He doesn’t need to keep having his nose rubbed in it.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  She stares at me for a moment. “He hasn’t told you?”

  “Told me what?” I lift myself onto my arm to be able to look at her more fully. “What heir thing?”

  She narrows her gaze at me for a moment, as if she’s trying to decide if I’m telling her the truth. “Way back when you announced your pregnancy—when Andrew talked to Leo about it—”

  “He did that without telling me, Elle. I asked him to keep it between the two of us until we knew for sure what was going on.” I shake my head. “But he insisted that his family needed to know immediately.”

  She lets out a long breath. “Yeah, I can see that. But his way of…announcing…” She shakes her head again. “He basically told Leo that Matthew was out as heir. I mean…” She shrugs. “It isn’t like it’s a huge deal to me. But Leo… The idea had kind of grown on him, you know? Like he finally had a place in the family. An important place. Like he was seen as something more than the spare heir.” She looks at me for another long moment. “It hurt him. He…we both have kind of kept our distance. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled for you.” She motions at me with her hands.

  I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the heart, and I can’t seem to find the right words.

  “I really am,” she continues. “But Andrew needs to lay off. We get it, okay? Matthew loses his place in line the day your baby is born.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything. I mean, it wouldn’t have been. But…I guess the idea had grown on us. That Matthew is the heir…was the heir. But now…” She throws her hands up, shrugging. “Now, who the hell knows?”

  My mouth is hanging open, and I still can’t think of what I should say. I never really thought about the effect my having a child would have on Elle and Leo—or on Matthew.

  “I…” I shake my head, my own eyes beginning to tear up. “I had no idea you felt that way, Elle. I really didn’t. I thought… I mean, I guess I assumed you’d be okay with the news. I mean…I’m sorry. I really am.”

  “Right.” She forces a smile through her tears. “Whatever. I’m just asking you… I mean, if you could tell Andrew to knock it off, that would be great.” She stands, rushing to the door. She turns to me with her hand still on the doorknob. “I guess… I think I never really congratulated you.” She gives me another weak, forced smile. “So congratulations.”

  My bottom lip trembles as she turns and leaves without giving me a chance to respond.

  I get it now—what Andrew meant when we found out we were having a baby. Everything has changed. And not necessarily for the better.

  Andrew

  The snow has gotten heavier over the last few days. It’s truly starting to look like Christmas now.

  I just wish I knew what to do with myself.

  The capital city has adorned itself with decorations—garlands and fir wreaths, silk ribbons and twinkling white lights. Stalls line the main square nearly every evening now, selling ornaments and gifts and bits of food. The smell of hot cider reaches my nose, overcoming the scent of cinnamon-dusted roasted nuts I left on the last block. My feet crunch on the thin layer of snow covering the cobblestoned sidewalks. My hands are in my pockets, out of the cold, and my right hand holds the little lump of metal, turning it round and round in my fingers.

  There’s an energy here in the city—a pulsing, festive joy that seems to affect everyone around me. I pass a group of children pressed up against the bakery window, admiring the display of holiday treats there. Holiday carols pour out of shops whenever someone opens one of the doors. Bells jingle somewhere in the distance. People are laughing and talking boisterously as they walk down the street—as well they should be. After years of struggle with our neighbor, Rosvalia, our countries finally know peace. Myself and two of my siblings are recently married. And the new heir to the throne is due on Christmas Day.

  I want to feel joyful, too. And deep down, I suppose I do—I’m happier than I ever thought I could be. But I also feel as if I’m dragging a heavy weight behind me through the snow.

  How can I celebrate when so many of the people I love are in pain? Victoria is restless, worrying herself sick. Leopold is angry that Matthew will no longer be heir, and his wife is caught in the middle of it all. Our entire family is suffering from that tension, and I feel responsible for all of it.

  How am I supposed to raise a child when I can’t even make it through the pregnancy without upse
tting everyone? All of my efforts to comfort Victoria only seem to make her more anxious. And in my attempts to confront the tension with Leopold, I’ve only managed to drag her into the middle of it. When she told me Elle had stopped by to ask her to ask me to back off, I felt so ashamed that I didn’t even know what to say.

  I stop in front of a toy shop, staring through the thick glass at the colorful display beyond. The bright lights make my headache worse, but I can’t pull myself away. This child is our own little miracle. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted this pregnancy to be a joyful celebration from beginning to end. Now the toys in the window seem to be taunting me, sitting there like images of some happy, storybook childhood that will never be. The truth is, no matter what I do, my child will be born into a very complicated family. He or she will grow up with a cousin who might have been the heir under different circumstances. Each with an uncle and aunt who will never look at either child the same way again because of it.

  But Leopold and Elle can find their own way to peace. My truest, deepest concern is for Victoria.

  Tonight is the first night we’re allowed to make love again, and I don’t intend to let the occasion go to waste. We need to reestablish the deep connection between us. We need to be united again before our child is born. I might not be able to take her fears away, but I can do that much.

  I press my fingers against the glass of the window. It’s surprisingly warm.

  I came out here this evening because I wanted to get her an early Christmas present. Something to bring a little cheer into her life. I haven’t yet decided whether I want to get her something for herself or for the child.

  For her, I think, my eyes following a toy train as it makes its way along a winding track. There will be plenty of time to buy things for the baby when he or she arrives.

  I turn away from the window, continuing down the row of shops. I know this city like the back of my hand, know all of these shops—and most of the shopkeepers—quite well, but I don’t know where I’m going.

  “Merry Christmas, Your Highness,” says a woman as she passes.

  “Merry Christmas,” I return with a forced smile.

  The next cross-street smells like roasting meat—duck, maybe. I stick my hand back into my pocket, looking for the comfort of my little lump of metal.

  And then, suddenly, it hits me.

  I spin on my heel, heading back toward a shop I passed a few blocks ago. I know exactly what to get her, and God help me, I’m going to make everything right again.

  Victoria is up and about when I enter our suite an hour later. She looks me up and down.

  “You look completely frozen,” she says.

  I grin. It started snowing heavily again on my way back to the palace, and though most the snow that landed on me melted the moment I stepped inside, a couple of resilient flakes still cling to my scarf and coat.

  Without saying a word, I cross the room, catching her up in my arms. Her belly presses against my stomach.

  “Hey, you’re cold,” she says, laughing. “Your nose is like ice.”

  I nuzzle my frozen nose against her neck, pleased to hear her laughing again. This is her first day out of bed in months, and already she’s looking and acting better.

  “I’ve asked the kitchen to send up a special dinner,” I tell her. “I hope that’s all right. I want tonight to be special.”

  “That’s fine with me,” she says, pulling back so she can look me in the eyes. “I’m just happy I’m no longer being treated like an invalid.”

  “You’re being treated like a princess,” I say, brushing my lips against her cheek. “Nothing less.” I keep one arm around her, but with the other I reach into the pocket of my coat, pulling out a small wrapped box. “I got you an early present. I’d like you to open it tonight.”

  Her eyes light up, even as she shakes her head. “You didn’t need to—”

  “I wanted to.” I press the box into her hand. “It’s nothing extravagant, I promise.”

  Her eyebrows rise as she looks down at the gift. “It looks like jewelry.”

  “Open it.”

  She obliges me, releasing me so that she can undo the gold gift wrap and ribbon. Beneath the wrapping lies a small, square wooden box.

  “Open it,” I urge her.

  She lifts the lid. Inside, on a bed of black silk, lies a necklace—a thin silver chain with an irregularly shaped pendant—a little lump of metal about the size of a large coin.

  She looks up at me, obviously confused. I lift the necklace from its silk bed.

  “Do you know what this is?” I ask her, holding the pendant up to her.

  She shakes her head. “What?”

  “This is a piece of Atalanta, my old plane.”

  Her eyes widen, her face paling slightly. I don’t blame her for the reaction—shortly after we first met, I hired her to do some publicity for me and decided to fly her back to Montovia myself on my private plane. I once considered myself quite the pilot—and if I’m being honest, I loved Atalanta as an extension of myself—but something went wrong. The plane crashed, and Victoria and I survived in the wilderness together for several days before we were rescued. We were strangers at the beginning of that ordeal, but by the end, I knew Victoria was unlike any woman I’d ever met.

  “They finally dredged it up from the lake this summer,” I say. “I didn’t tell you because—well, I didn’t think it mattered. And I didn’t wish to upset you, to remind you of what happened.” Neither of us has particularly enjoyed flying since. “Most of it was taken for scrap, but I managed to save a piece. I’ve been carrying this in my pocket ever since.” I curl her fingers around the pendant. “I don’t know why, but it makes me feel…calmer, somehow. The day our plane went down was one of the worst of my life. But we survived. By some miracle. And everything good in our lives happened because Atalanta went down. We grew to love each other. We’ve started a life together. We’re going to have a child together. All of that because we crashed. Miracles have happened for us before, Victoria, and they will happen for us again. Even when we’re terrified, even when everything seems to be crashing down around us, there is always hope. And I want you to have that hope now.” I squeeze her fingers around the pendant. “No matter what.”

  Victoria

  The memory of that day still burns as brightly as if it only happened yesterday. Andrew is right, of course. If his plane hadn’t gone down—if we hadn’t suffered through the ordeal we did—we wouldn’t be here now, waiting for our baby to be born.

  “I love you, Victoria. I love you more than words could ever express. I wish…I hope that this small piece…” He shakes his head. “I know it doesn’t do justice to what I’m trying to express.”

  My eyes fill with tears as he helps me to put the pendant around my neck. I turn back to him, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him.

  I pull away, smiling. “I love you so much, Andrew. More than I can ever tell you. And I love how much you’ve grown since that day—how much we both have. You’re going to the best father—”

  He interrupts me with a kiss, his lips lingering on mine for a long moment. When he pulls away, I could swear his eyes are shining, too.

  I place a hand on his cheek. “I have a present for you, too.”

  He wraps his hand around mine, kissing the inside of my wrist. “You didn’t need to get me anything—”

  “Well, it’s nothing compared to this…” I touch the pendant hanging from my neck. “But I hope you understand when we get there.”

  “Get there?” He grins, kissing my wrist again. “Are you certain you want to leave the suite?” He arches a brow, and I can see exactly what he means—we’ve both been counting the days until we could finally be together again. And I might be huge, but I plan on making this night as special for both of us as I can.

  I grin. “You’ll see in a few minutes.”

  Andrew helps me with my coat, and we make our way outside, arm in arm. I’m sure he knows exactly where we
’re going—he doesn’t seem at all surprised when he finds our destination is the small gardener’s cottage on the far side of the palace grounds.

  We’ve spent a lot of time here since I first came to Montovia. It’s the one place where we’ve been able to just be us—it’s almost as if this is truly our place. The place where we first became a couple. And tonight, I want it to be special for us again.

  We open the door, and Andrew grins, turning to me.

  “I know it isn’t much. I didn’t have a lot of time—”

  “It’s perfect. Perfect.” He leans down, kissing me again. He pulls away, smiling down at me. “How did you manage to hang so many lights by yourself?” He glances around the room.

  My heart skips a few beats. I can’t remember the last time I saw my husband this happy—truly happy. I can’t help but smile at the warmth I feel inside at seeing his joy.

  “And this tree…where did you get it?” He walks a few steps over to the small Christmas tree I’ve set up.

  “I had a little help. And I would have done more, but considering this was the first day I was allowed out of bed…” I smile. “But…” I walk over to him, lacing my arm through his. I touch the single ornament hanging from the branch of the tiny tree on the table. “This is for you. For us.”

  I can hear his breath hitch in his chest as he leans down to read the inscription. It’s a silly thing—a couple holding a baby with Our Family and the year inscribed beneath them—but I knew it was perfect when I saw it.

  “Our family.” He turns to me. “It says ‘Our Family.’” He shakes his head, his eyes still shining. “I…I love you, Victoria.”

  Tears slide down my cheeks as I rise to my tiptoes again to kiss my husband. I slide my arms around his waist. “I love you more than I can even say.” I smile up at him. “And I’m going to show you just how much.”