by Renna Peak
“Well, of course she does. You’ve been talking to her for the past seven months.” I blink at him a few times. “It feels strange to call it her. But I guess there’s a fifty-fifty chance—”
He shakes his head. “It’s a one-hundred percent chance. I’m telling you. I already know.” He releases my hand, turning over to lift himself onto his elbow. “And she’s beautiful, just like her mother.”
I shake my head as I cover his hand with mine. “I really hoped it would be a boy. I…I want to give you a son. I know how important it is to you—”
“My family is what’s important to me.” He turns his hand over, lacing his fingers through mine. “That’s the only thing that’s important to me.”
The doctor walks back in, looking between the two of us. “Welcome back, Your Highness.”
Andrew chuckles, turning to lean back onto the pillow. “How long was I out?”
“A few hours.” She glances at me before looking back at him. “I must ask, when was the last time you slept?”
“Slept?” He gives a small shrug. “I slept for a time tonight—”
She interrupts with a shake of her head. “I mean really slept. For more than an hour or two.”
“I have duties. Pressing issues—”
“You realize there is a family history of heart disease, no?” She shakes her head at him. “Your heart rate is irregular. Your blood pressure is through the roof, even though you were unconscious.” She clucks her tongue. “I’m going to guess it’s been months since you’ve slept. Your blood chemistries were mostly normal, so the only explanation for what’s happened is that you are completely sleep deprived.”
He sighs. “Unfortunately, sleep is a luxury I cannot afford at the moment—”
“Sleep is not a luxury, Your Highness. Whether you like it or not.” She glances over at me again, arching her eyebrow before her gaze turns back to my husband. “You have many responsibilities now, no?”
“Very many—”
“And if you’d like to live to take care of your responsibilities, you need sleep. Regularly. I can guarantee you’re going to have a heart attack of your own if you don’t. Just like your father did last year.”
He shakes his head, blinking first at the doctor then sliding his gaze to mine. “I do sleep. When I can—”
“I’m going to give you some medication. You’re going to stay in the hospital until your heart rate and your blood pressure drop to a normal level. And if that means you sleep for three days straight—”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse, Doctor.”
“You better not refuse anything, Andrew.” My gaze narrows. “If you love me—if you love our baby—the way you say you do, you’ll do exactly as she says.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” The doctor smiles at me. “And as for you, you’ll be getting that hydration we tried to give you back at the palace before you tore the IV from your arm.”
“Oh.” I glance down at my arm where there’s still some dried blood caked on my skin. “Happily.”
“Good. I’m glad we’re all in agreement.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything…” Andrew shakes his head, falling fully back onto his pillow. He lets out a long sigh. “Fine. I agree. But if anything should happen to Victoria, I want to be awakened immediately.”
“Of course.” The doctor smiles. “We’ll have another bed brought in the room. And the two of you need to say goodnight.”
“Is that really necessary? Being in separate beds?” Andrew eyes the doctor, then looks over at me with a smile. “I think I would like to share a bed with my wife, if no one would mind.”
The doctor shakes her head, but she still smiles. “You drive a hard bargain, Your Highness.” She looks over at me. “If your wife agrees—”
“I agree.” No one has to ask me twice—I want nothing more than to be held by my husband. I slide into bed with Andrew, and he wraps his arms around me as my back presses to his chest.
The doctor chuckles. “This is highly irregular. But I suppose I’d rather have two happy patients than two miserable ones..”
Andrew pulls me closer, nuzzling into my neck. “I promise, Doctor. Nothing makes me happier than being close to my wife.”
I close my eyes for a moment. Even though this isn’t the way I expected to spend this night, I have to admit that nothing makes me happier than being close to my husband. Nothing.
The Night Before Christmas
Andrew
The last couple of weeks have been a blur.
I’ve tried to do as the physician requested, but it’s hard to sleep when there’s still so much to take care of. At the end of the day, it was Victoria who convinced me to get some proper rest—seeing how worried she was about me was the final straw. She has enough to concern herself already—I won’t contribute to her distress.
But as the days have passed and her due date has drawn nearer and nearer, I’ll admit I’ve found it harder and harder to keep my word and get enough sleep.
It doesn’t help that Victoria has been looking increasingly uncomfortable as the time approaches. She can hardly seem to sit still anymore. Now it’s Christmas Eve, and the festival for lighting the Tannenbaum will begin within the hour. She’s been restless all morning, pacing around our suite and fussing with her dress.
“Do you think the people would be offended if I showed up in a bathrobe?” she asks me as she readjusts the fabric across her belly.
“You could show up in whatever you like, as far as I’m concerned,” I tell her. “You’ve earned the right to be comfortable, especially tonight.”
She smiles at me, but I can see the worry in her eyes. I know exactly how she’s feeling. The joyful anticipation of our daughter’s impending birth is marred by a deep anxiety—after everything we’ve endured over the course of this pregnancy, there’s still a significant chance something could go wrong.
She catches my hands, squeezing them, and it’s only then that I realize I’ve been tugging at the buttons on my coat—in fact, I’ve nearly pulled one of them off.
“Why don’t you go see if your mother needs any help?” she says.
“I’m sure my mother has everything under control. Besides, I have no intention of leaving your side tonight. The baby could come at any moment—”
“It isn’t like it’s going to come at this moment. And your hovering is making me nervous.” She looks up at me. “Please, Andrew.”
I don’t want to leave her, but I figure this is probably the one time when I must do whatever she asks of me, even if I disagree.
“If anything happens,” I say, “promise me that you’ll call me immediately. If you even think you’re having contractions—”
“I promise. Now go.” She stands on her toes and kisses me on the cheek. “I just have a few more things to do. I’ll join you downstairs when I’m done.”
Dismissed, I force myself to walk out the door before I can talk myself out of it. I hate leaving her, even for a moment, but I’m determined to distract myself. I’ve already caused her enough stress.
My headaches have improved since I started getting more sleep, but they still aren’t gone completely. I have a feeling they won’t disappear until I know our daughter is here and safe. The first few nights after I was hospitalized, I convinced myself to sleep by telling myself I had the chance to see the dream version of my family again. But they’ve never reappeared. Part of me is saddened by that, but another part of me is relieved. I’m needed here, not there. And it might be too tempting not to leave them again.
When I reach the ground floor of the palace, I can feel the energy in the air. Christmas is nearly upon us, and all the festivities that come with it. I can hear laughter and holiday music, hear a contagious liveliness in the voices of the servants and guards as they move through the corridors.
I find my mother in the Grand Ballroom, directing people as some last-minute things are being added to the decorations. She smiles when she sees m
e and beckons me over.
“How is she?” she asks me when I approach. She knows where my mind is these days.
“She’s fine. Restless.”
“As to be expected.” My mother pats my arm. “We’re all here, whatever she needs.” Her eyes flick past me, to the door way. “Ah, here’s your brother and Elle.”
I turn to find Leopold with his wife and child, all dressed in their holiday finest. Any thought of eliminating my anxiety by distracting myself immediately disappears.
My brother and I have hardly spoken these last few weeks. It’s easy to avoid people in a palace of this size. But our lack of confrontation hasn’t made our situation any better. If anything, I’m more frustrated by him now than I was before. I wanted to get this settled before my daughter was born, but it seems like this tension will be yet another stress to add to the early days of my child’s life.
My mother, of course, has seen exactly what’s going on.
“Give it time,” she says softly, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “Everyone has to make some adjustments when a new life comes into the world. And this child will affect more lives than most do.”
“I’ve given it time,” I say. “I tried to talk with him about it from the very beginning, to get everything out in the open.”
“And sometimes it’s more complicated than that. Give him time.”
Leopold, Eleanor, and Matthew have reached us now, so I suppose the conversation is over. My mother greets them warmly, and I give my brother the expected nod and clasp my hands behind my back, waiting.
It’s clear that my brother has no intention of resolving anything tonight. While he wears a smile and laughs like his usual self, I can still feel the distance between us. Something has shifted in our relationship, and if he has no intention of helping me fix it, then there’s nothing I can do.
My head is throbbing again. Between my worry for Victoria and this nonsense with my brother, it’s going to be a long night. I spot the table of mulled wine at the far side of the room and stride over to grab myself a cup.
I’d rather just fight it out with him and get it over with, I think. Throw a few punches and get everything out of our system. Back when we were boys, that was always the way we dealt with our issues. But we’re too old now, and it’s far too late for for fighting. What are we going to do—slug each other in front of the Tannenbaum and half our citizens?
I chug the glass of mulled wine in one long gulp. It burns my tongue, and it isn’t nearly strong enough to settle my nerves, but it’s all I have. As soon as it’s gone, I get another glass. Then another.
I’m finishing my fourth when I spot Victoria in the doorway to the ballroom. And my mother is calling out to me, saying it’s time for the family to head down to the city. I give my empty glass to a servant and hurry over to my wife’s side.
“Are you all right?” she asks me, looking me up and down.
“Of course,” I assure her, taking her arm. “Perfectly well.” I curl my fingers over hers on my arm.
She doesn’t look convinced by that, but it doesn’t matter—it’s time to go, and we have a long night ahead of us.
Victoria
I’m restless, and I can’t put my finger on why. It doesn’t help that tomorrow is my due date, and I don’t seem any closer to having this baby today than I was a few weeks ago.
I can’t understand why I spent the past six months on bed rest to keep this child inside me when it hasn’t made any effort to come out since I’ve been allowed out of bed. And just today, the doctor told me that babies almost never come on the actual due date. It’s pretty frustrating to think about how much time I’ve spent doing nothing all these months to have this baby go past my due date.
And today, all I can think about is how everything seems to be somehow wrong in our suite. It’s almost as though someone came in the middle of the night and screwed up all the frames on the walls. They all seemed the slightest bit off, and it’s been driving me crazy.
I’ve been halfway tempted—well, more than halfway—to call one of the maintenance workers and ask for a level to make sure the frames are all positioned correctly. But I’ve restrained myself so far—Andrew would probably haul me into the clinic to be checked if he found out I actually wanted a tool to make sure all the paintings in the palace are at perfect ninety-degree angles. It’s weird, I know, but I can’t seem to help myself.
There was a twinge in my back as I reached for the highest of the portraits on the wall in our suite, but I dismissed it. I’ve been having all sorts of weird twinges and pangs in my body for the past three weeks—all part of the ‘false labor’ I’ve been having. I’m still not sure what real labor is going to feel like, but this pretend stuff is pretty much driving me nuts.
Obviously. You’ve been aligning pictures on the walls… I shake my head to myself. Maybe I should get checked out by the doctor. I’m obviously losing my mind.
After I finally dressed and made my way downstairs to join the festivities, it was all I could do not to check every portrait lining the hallways—I literally held my hands behind my back all the way to the ballroom to keep myself from fussing with them as I passed.
Andrew leans over to kiss me on the temple. “Are you going to walk into town with us to bring up the Tannenbaum?”
I can think of about a million things I’d rather be doing than walking anywhere. I shake my head, giving him a smile. “I think I’ll just stay and visit with your family.”
He nods, smiling at me. “I won’t be gone but an hour. And if there’s anything—”
“There won’t be.” I have to force myself to keep the cheerful look on my face—I wouldn’t want any of the townspeople worrying about me tonight. “And if there is, you’ll be the first to know.”
He brings a hand to my cheek, stroking his thumb across my jaw. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I make a shooing motion with my hands. “Now go. Go bring back the Tannenbaum.”
He smiles, kissing me again on the forehead before he goes to join the other people preparing to go into town.
The party started here a while ago—everyone goes into town to get the tree they chose for the year, and the men all haul it back up to the palace for the citizens to decorate. It’s actually a lovely tradition—one that makes me feel even more part of the Montovian community I’ve grown to love.
It isn’t long before they all return with the Tannenbaum. Andrew comes over to me immediately upon his return, lacing his arm through mine as he leads me over to the tree.
“You didn’t miss a thing.” We watch the citizens each place a personal ornament on the tree before he leans over and kisses me on the cheek.
His act of affection draws many oohs and ahs from the crowd, which only seems to spur him on. He grins at me, kissing me on the lips. And the crowd eats it up, laughing and applauding.
I shake my head, my cheeks burning even as I grin at him.
He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes sparkling. “I brought something for us.”
“Did you?” I tilt my head.
He nods, pulling something from his jacket pocket. It only takes a moment for me to see what it is—the ornament from the tiny tree in the cottage.
Tears fill my eyes as he hands it to me.
He leans toward me, kissing my temple again before he whispers in my ear. “We’ll put it on the tree together.”
I nod, and he laces his fingers through mine as we hang the ornament on the tree. We both stand there, admiring it, even as others hang their ornaments all around ours.
Our Family. I rub my belly for a moment, and Andrew slides his arm around me. It’s still so hard to believe the moment is almost here—it’s almost real. We’re actually going to be a family.
Andrew
The Tannenbaum is lit, and our tiny ornament is the highlight of it all. I still can’t help but smile at the thought.
The Grand Ballroom is full of the festive sounds of the holidays. All around us, p
eople are laughing and singing along to the music. They’re clinking their glasses of mulled wine or trying one of the many Christmas treats or simply just staring up at the giant tree with awe in their eyes.
This is always one of my favorite days of the year, but things are different this time. I feel like I’m holding my breath, waiting for so many huge things to happen. I pull Victoria closer to my side.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine,” she says, smiling. I can tell she isn’t, though. She’s just as anxious as I am.
“Let’s at least get you a seat,” I say. “You’ve been on your feet long enough.” I lead her over to a chair, helping her into the seat. When she’s comfortable, I ask her again, “Can I get you anything? Water? A plate full of chocolate pastries?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Really.”
She doesn’t seem fine. She’s been fidgeting all night, and even now, she can’t seem to sit still. She begins straightening the things on the table in front of her. I feel antsy, too, and I don’t know what do to with myself.
“Are you sure I can’t bring you—”
“You know?” she cuts in. “Maybe a plate of pastries would be nice.”
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.” Part of me hates to leave her side, even for a moment, but I need something to do or I’ll go mad.
I stride quickly across the ballroom toward the long table of sweets and pastries. There’s a crowd of people around the table, but they let me through when they see who I am. Normally, I’d insist they go first, but tonight Victoria is my priority, so I take advantage of their kindness. I grab a plate and pile it high with desserts—tartlets and candies and other little finger-sized pastries. I choose quite the assortment, wanting to make sure Victoria has plenty of options to choose from.
When I’m done, I turn away from the table. I begin to head back toward Victoria, but then I spot Leopold nearby, leaning against the wall and watching the festivities.