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“Yes, we do. I’ve read up on the traditions, and this is one of them.”
“A stupid tradition,” he glowered, wanting nothing more than to protect his wife, to ensure her comfort.
“Just think, the sooner we do this, the sooner we shall be home – just you, me and little Reginald here.”
“Reginald?” He burst out laughing, and it was as if the sun was shining from behind the evening sky. Chloe blinked, her heart bursting.
“Okay, maybe not Reginald.”
“Definitely not.” He nodded towards the guards at the doors. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, your highness. So long as you’re beside me, I’m ready for anything.”
Fierce, all-consuming pride filled him like a balloon, puffing out his chest. His beautiful, brave wife, the mother of his child, the savior of the kingdom. What could he ever do to deserve her?
The doors to the balcony were pushed open and the noise from the crowd below rose up towards them like thunder from the ground. Chloe held their baby as though she’d been doing so all her life, and in unison, the King and Queen of Ras el Kida stepped onto the terrace.
The crowd cheered as one, an enormous noise that bounced around them. Chloe held their baby closer, dropping her gaze to the little one, her whole soul absorbing that magical moment.
“They already love him,” she said in awe, as the crowd began to chant:
“Amyr! Amyr! Amyr!” Prince, prince, prince!
“He will be their king,” Raffa said softly. “And they know that.”
“One day,” Chloe nodded gently. “But for now, he’s just a boy. Just a baby.” Her eyes met her husband’s. “He’s our baby.”
“And Amit’s,” he said drily. “His brother is already organizing all the activities they will do together.”
She smiled, her heart as full of love for Amit as it ever would be for her own child.
“Then they will both be very happy,” she murmured, her smile almost breaking her cheeks.
“Well, my Sheikha, shall we take him home?”
They left the hospital once darkness fell, a limousine carrying them through streets that were lined with well-wishers, all the way to the palace.
“You must be exhausted,” Raffa said gently, when they were alone, their son sleeping in a basket at the foot of the bed.
“You’d think so, but I’m strangely wide awake.”
“I thought you were supposed to sleep when he sleeps,” Raffa teased.
“So did I.”
“Lie down,” Raffa commanded.
And though she was tempted to tease him, to tease him for his bossiness, she would always love him for that ability to take charge.
“If you say so, your highness,” she said, batting her lashes.
There was the rustle of a sheet, the movement of the bed, and then he was back beside her. And he began to read from the pages of the fairy tale book Chloe had read, many long nights ago, when her future in Ras el Kida had been so much less certain.
He began to read her the story of the Beast, but now, the tale of ‘forever love’ took on a whole new meaning.
As she fell asleep, her exhaustion too strong in the end to fight, he stopped reading. “I will take you to the ruins of the Beast,” he said quietly, a hand resting on her forehead. “And I will show you that love is everlasting.”
“I already know that to be the case.”
