Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ loved the church, and gave himself for it.
Right. Sacrificial love. Laying down his life.
One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother...Greater love has no man than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends...In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.
Turning the wheel of the boat, he made a wide arc and caught the glare of the security team that had followed in his wake.
Right. Something he still wasn’t used to when he wasn’t with his wife.
He started back toward the royal dock. He didn’t need his brother. He had needed some time to clear his head, to listen to the still, small voice telling him what he already knew. No matter what else, it fell to him to take care of his wife as he would take care of himself. Better than he would take care of himself.
When he arrived at the dock, he slowed and let the man standing there tie the boat off as he hopped out. Trotting to the car, it was time to try to make things right with his wife.
Chapter 17
“You wanted to see me?”
Christiana turned from staring out the window at the sea to find her husband leaning against the door frame, hands shoved deep in his pockets. A short-sleeved, casual collared shirt in dark green offset his eyes - and his muscular arms. With one leg crossed over the other, he looked maddeningly casual and incredibly handsome. The serious look on his face, though, gave some indication of what was to come.
“Thank you for coming.” She fluffed the blankets around her then smoothed them again.
“We need to talk, Christiana. You and me. No holds barred.” The muscles in his arms shifted under his shirt as he lifted one of the wingback chairs and moved it to where he could sit and face her at the same time. The shirt strained across his shoulders as he leaned forward. What would it be like to be held by him whenever she wanted instead of the occasional dance, crying jag, or after throwing herself at him on an emotional night?
“You are right, Xander. We do.”
He cocked an eyebrow her direction. “Xander?”
“I complain you never call me anything familiar, but I do not call you anything but Alexander. I thought your family must call you Alex, and I wanted something else.”
He chuckled and the sound settled over her, warming her like the blankets had been unable to. “Nope. Some of my friends did, still do, but my family calls me Ander or just A. Not quite the same, but close. Christopher is Chris to his friends but Topher or C to the family.”
She gave a petulant pout, but she did not care. “The only other one I came up with was An or Ex or Der and, well, no thank you.”
Another chuckle brought a small smile out of her. “No, those don’t work either, Tia.” She felt her brows knit together. “A nickname for Christiana.”
She sobered again. “I would like to apologize, Alexander. I should not have kept this from you for so long.” Christiana reached for the scrapbook sitting at her side and handed it to him.
“What’s this?” She didn’t answer as he flipped it open. He stared at the first page, then at her. “Ultrasound pictures?”
“Yes. Because of my mother’s history and the all-day sickness, Dr. Chambers has done a scan every week. I do not know that it could have stopped something bad from happening if he detected anything, but it certainly has calmed my fears.”
He ran his fingers over the plastic protecting the photos, one from each ultrasound. “So small,” he whispered. “A peanut.”
“More like the size of a kumquat now, at least according to the website I’ve been looking at.” She picked at the quilt on her bed. “I owe you an apology for not making sure you were there to see your child the first time.”
He set the book on the bed and reached for her hand, his long fingers gently brushing the back. “Let me take care of you. I know you’re the queen, and it’s your job to be everything that comes with that, but I’m your husband. Our children won’t have my last name, and I’m good with that, really. But you’re my wife. My job is to love you like Christ loved the church. To take care of you better than I would myself.
“I know you don’t love me, and I get why you don’t trust me completely. You’ve been hurt and betrayed so often. It will take time to convince you I won’t, but please let me take care of you in the meantime. Your first priority has to be the health of yourself and the baby. Let me take care of everything else.”
His earnest plea made her nod. “I know. And I thank you.”
Alexander stood, leaned over and pressed a sound kiss to her forehead. “I need to go check out the publicity sure to be surrounding today. I’ll make sure no one releases the information about the baby until you’re ready to do so.”
“Only Dr. Chambers and Diana know.” She squeezed his hand. “She suspected before I did.”
“How long have you known?”
“A few weeks. I think we should wait until after the first trimester ends to make the announcement. Dr. Chambers agrees.” She did not want him to focus on how long she had known without telling him, but rather on how much longer they had to go through together. “The baby is due in September.”
“We’ll be parents before our first anniversary,” he mused. Another kiss to her forehead, and he moved away. “Get some rest. I’ll be back in a bit with a press release for you to look over.”
He walked to the door but stopped when she spoke.
“Thank you.”
One of his drop dead gorgeous smiles crossed his face. “My pleasure.”
For the first time, she truly believed he meant it.
PHOTO: Prince Alexander storms out of the palace in his roadster
~
Less than two hours after an unconscious Queen Christiana was taken to the palace, a stormy Prince Alexander took off in his roadster. His drive only took him to the royal dock at the marina where he hopped in a speedboat and took off before his security could catch up. He headed for Bianisola, perhaps to speak with his family about matters better discussed in person. The speedboat never arrived at the royal dock on Bianisola, but Baicampo, the property his family owns, does have a private one. He returned much more quickly than expected. If he did visit the island, it was a short visit, likely less than fifteen minutes.
A more relaxed, but still intense-looking prince drove back to the palace. A short time ago, he and the queen released this statement:
Queen Christiana has been under the weather for some time but has put her obligations first, refusing to take time off to recuperate as she has needed to do. Today, this led to the incident at the Have a Heart Fundraiser. On the advice of her doctors and at the urging of Prince Alexander, Her Majesty will be canceling appearances for the near future. His Royal Highness or another representative will attend in her place whenever possible, but for now, the queen and duke insist her health must come first.
The queen's hiatus will fuel further speculation that she is expecting the couple's first child, likely before their first anniversary.
“How is she feeling, Diana?” Alexander strode into the apartment around ten the next morning.
Diana sat at a desk situated outside the queen’s bedroom, moved there to allow her proximity to the queen while allowing the queen to rest. “Better, sir. The medicine and fluids seem to be having the desired effect.” She tilted her head toward the bedroom. “I think she’d like to see you.”
He winked at Diana. “I hope so. Thank you for helping me get these.”
She grinned. “The florist was happy to help.”
Alexander tucked the flowers behind his back, knowing it wouldn’t hide them completely. “Good morning,” he repeated softly as he walked into her bedroom.
The queen ducked her head, seeming a bit shy. “Good morning.”
“I brought something for you.” He swept the flowers from behind his back.
Her hands flew
to her face as she gasped. “How did you get those the day after Valentine’s Day? They’re gorgeous!”
Alexander chuckled. “It helps that they’re for the queen and her people happen to adore her.” He pulled the vase out of the spot where Diana had hid it for him earlier, setting the roses in it and putting them on her side table. He kissed her forehead before walking around to the other side of the bed and settling on top of the covers.
“Speculation is rampant?”
He took her hand in his. “I think the entire country believes you are pregnant. Half the States probably do, too. Your spell yesterday made the news there, asa well, since I’m American and all.”
“What about your parents? Your brother? Will they be here anytime soon so we can confirm to them in person?”
“They were planning on a visit this weekend anyway.”
“Good.” She changed the subject. “What is on the agenda today?”
“Not much. A few guests visiting.” He brought her hand up and kissed the back of it. “I’ve got it covered.”
“Who?”
“Another group of students. I think today it’s the country’s top group of senior drama students. The National curling team is supposed to be by later, but Diana offered to let them reschedule since she knows they’d really like to meet you specifically.”
Christiana shook her head. “No. Dr. Chambers said he would remove the IV this morning. I will do my best to convince him I can sit in the reception room. I will not walk around, but will let them come to me. Take a few pictures, but this event has been rescheduled at least twice already.”
Alexander looked at her and decided she really did look better. “If Dr. Chambers agrees, okay.”
“I would prefer to be in there and seated before the team arrives rather than walk in appearing frail.”
They talked for a few more minutes, and he left to get some other things done before the first meeting.
* * *
Alexander helped her out of the wheelchair Dr. Chambers insisted on. Christiana, feeling weaker than she ever had both physically and in how she was viewed, relished his strength as he helped her into the seat brought in for this very reason. The large, well-cushioned chair had an almost throne-like feel to it, she realized as she settled in.
The wheelchair was whisked away. “Are you ready?” Alexander asked, squatting down at her side.
Christiana took a deep breath and nodded. Her long sleeves covered the cotton ball and bandage on the inside of her elbow. Alexander motioned to one of the doormen. How she wished she could remember the names of everyone who worked for her! But she had not been blessed with an eidetic memory for names and faces like some she knew. Former King Jedidiah, father of her dear friend Queen Adeline of Montevaro, was one such person. He knew the names of everyone he came in contact with on even a semi-regular basis.
The Ravenzario National Curling Team was more subdued than she expected. Only about twenty people entered, surprising her with their small numbers. The furniture had been arranged in a semi-circle facing her. “Won’t you have a seat?” she gestured toward the couches and chairs. “I do apologize for not standing to greet all of you. I am certain you have been informed that I am under the weather, as they say, but you have all been so gracious in rescheduling this meeting that I could not in good conscience ask you to again.”
One of them walked straight up to her and handed her a bouquet. “It is our pleasure, Your Majesty.” He took a step back and bowed. “We would be happy to reschedule again if you need to.”
She held one of the blooms up to smell it. “Lovely. No, it is not necessary. I am to remain seated and rest, under strict orders from my doctor and...” She looked up under lowered lashes. “...enforced by my husband.”
They all took seats, though several looked rather uncomfortable. She turned to the one closest to her who had given her the flowers. “And what is your name?”
“Antonin, ma’am.”
“Antonin, can you introduce me to everyone else? I am afraid I do not know much about curling. Could you each explain to me what your role is?”
Antonin went around the room, introducing her to each one and letting each of them explain their role on the teams. After about an hour of answering her questions and explaining patiently, Antonin and the captain of the women’s team both stood.
“We do have something for both of you,” he said, nodding to Alexander. The women’s captain brought out a box. Antonin opened it and lifted out two jerseys. On the back of Alexander’s was his last name and a number two. On hers was Rensselaer, the Ravenzarian version of the common dynasty name shared with the other countries in the Commonwealth and a number one.
Taking care, she stood and took it from him. “How wonderful!” It was not the first jersey she had received and would not be the last, but every time, it overwhelmed her. Carefully, she slid her arms in. Alexander had already put his on. She sat back down, exclaiming over the jersey.
“May we get a picture, ma’am?” Antonin asked.
“Of course!” They all gathered around the chair. Alexander knelt on one knee at her side, with Antonin on the other. The official photographer took several pictures with his own camera then several more with the cameras or phones of the guests.
By the time they left a few minutes later, Christiana had to admit she was worn out. “I think I would like to go rest now, Alexander.” Originally, she had tried to convince him to let her stay for the next meeting, now but knew he had been right to veto the idea.
He accompanied her back to her room, helping to pull the covers up over her legs after Diana helped her change into something more comfortable than her pants’ suit.
“Rest well,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. “I’ll see you later.”
Chapter 18
Christopher lifted Alexander off his feet in a giant hug when he walked into the palace apartment. “I hear you’re gonna be a dad, brother.”
Alexander groaned. “Don’t believe everything you read in the tabloids. You of all people should know that. Weren’t you supposed to be having a baby with that girl? Or one of a dozen others?” How many times had the tabloids linked one or both of them to a girl who was supposedly pregnant? Not just the one that ended Christopher’s relationship with Margie McCoy.
“True. But neither of us were sleeping with anyone at the time, so it was easy to know there was no truth to the allegations. Now, brother dear, you’re married. And your wife is quite the hottie of the royalty world.”
Alexander glared. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“What?” Christopher shrugged. “The queen is hot.”
“Thank you for your assessment, Christopher.” Both brothers turned to see Queen Christiana walking into the room.
Alexander grabbed his brother’s arm and leaned close. “My wife is beautiful. Gorgeous. And hot. All of those adjectives. But she deserves your respect because she is the queen of the country where your family does a lot of business. She deserves it because she is my wife. Some women would not take offense at your statements, and if she were one of them, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, but I’m warning you...”
Christopher looked taken aback. “Chill, big brother.”
“We’ll talk later.” He turned and walked quickly to Christiana’s side, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
“Leave your brother alone.” She settled into the chair he’d learned was her favorite, a large one his mother had always called a “grandma chair” because it was big enough for a grandma to sit with a grandchild and read a book. If he and Christiana were more conventional, and she weren’t the queen, he would share it with her. Instead, he took a seat on the end of the couch closest to her. His parents and brother were seated around the living area a moment later.
“We do have some news to share,” he told them without preamble. “This time, the papers are correct.” He took her hand. “Christiana is about ten weeks pregnant. She’s
had a difficult time, and there is a history of miscarriage in her family so we don’t plan to announce it for several more weeks.”
Christopher whooped, both arms lifted in victory. “I knew it!”
Mom looked like she was about to cry. “Oh! You two! I didn’t believe a word I read, but I’m so glad!” Dad just grinned and let the others do the talking. “When are you due?” Mom went on, not letting Christiana answer. “If you’re ten weeks, that’s around Christmas, so September?”
Christiana could only nod.
“Oh, good. We planned to spend most of the fall here already.” She clapped her hands like a giddy schoolgirl. “Our first grandchild!”
Christopher rolled his eyes. “At least the tabloids were wrong all the other times. Otherwise, you’d have a dozen already, starting when you were forty. You would have hated that.”
“The tabloids?” Christiana looked puzzled. “Why would the tabloids follow either one of you?”
Alexander rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, we haven’t really talked about one part of my life. You know I spent several years in LA, right?”
“Yes.”
“Christopher and I starred in a teen sit-com but under Mom’s maiden name. There was already a Christopher Mayfield in the Screen Actors Guild, so we used the last name Slate.”
Christiana gasped. “You’re Alexander and Christopher Slate? From 2 Cool 4 School?”
Was his royal wife a fangirl? Alexander glanced at Christopher who raised a brow.
“I had one of your posters in my dorm room. Addie gave it to me. She loved the show. I loved the freedom Alex and Chris enjoyed. I never had that.”
“Addie?”
“Queen Adeline of Montevaro. But that’s not important. How could you not tell me?”
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