chapter 3

"Honey..." The queen's voice was filled with a smile. "You're here. The baby has very strong legs."

His eyes landed on you, his heart seizing in his chest. For a moment, his mind struggled to process the sight. You were safe, but your words... His gaze lowered to your stomach, his anxiety slowly fading into wonder.

"The baby... kicked?" he asked finally, his voice rough with emotion.

"Yeah... very hard." You laughed.

A small, almost disbelieving smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He approached slowly, almost cautiously, his eyes fixed on your stomach. "May I...?" he asked, his hand hovering just above your belly.

You nodded.

His hand trembled slightly as he placed it gently on your stomach, his palm flat against the swell of your belly. He closed his eyes, almost as if in prayer, waiting.

Suddenly, he felt it. A sharp kick. A tiny, fluttering movement beneath his palm. His eyes snapped open, a mixture of surprise and wonder on his face. A soft, almost boyish chuckle escaped him.

"By the gods..." he murmured, his hand remaining on your stomach, feeling the little kicks.

"It hurts when it's sudden," you said.

His brow furrowed in concern, and his free hand came up to brush against your cheek. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with tenderness. He hated that you were in discomfort, even from harmless kicks.

"It's okay. It's part of the process."

He nodded, his expression softening as he continued to feel the baby's movements. He knew you were right, but he still couldn't help the protective instinct that flared within him. "I hate seeing you uncomfortable," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper.

You touched his face. "My love, you look troubled. What is it?"

He leaned into your touch, his gaze fixed on your face. He wanted to hide the truth, but he couldn't lie. "It's... nothing." He tried to dismiss the question, averting his gaze.

"Are you sure?" you persisted. "I hate anything that makes you worry."

He let out a low sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. He should've known you would push. "It's nothing you should concern yourself with," he repeated stubbornly, still avoiding your gaze.

"Look at me," you insisted.

His resolve crumbled under your firm tone, as it always did. Slowly, he raised his gaze to meet yours, his expression weary.

You leaned in and gave him a deep kiss. "How do you feel now?"

Damn it, he thought silently, his resistance melting away at your kiss. He kissed you back, his hand still lingering on your stomach as he pulled you closer.

"Distracted," he admitted in a low whisper, resting his forehead against yours.

"You know I love you no matter what."

Those four simple words cut through his defenses like a knife. He closed his eyes, a mixture of love and exasperation on his face. "You always know how to weaken me," he muttered, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you even closer.

You laughed, brushing his face with your hand. "Oh, my poor king is so stressed."

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