I laughed and stood up, ignoring the way my legs and back seemed to groan in relief. “Yes, Stella, I can come to your school. I will even have lunch with you, if you’ll let me.”
Stella gasped in delight. “Yes, please!” She eyed my little bump, then looked away as if she’d been told not to. “If you can.”
I glanced at the nurse with a small smile, which she returned.
“I think I can make it,” I assured her. “The baby isn’t coming for a few months, and if I come after the baby is born, I can have someone watch him or her.” I leaned closer to loudly whisper, “The king has lots of brothers and sisters, so I’ll have lots of volunteers.”
Stella giggled and smiled at me. “Are you having a boy or a girl?”
“Stella!” the nurse scolded suddenly. She looked at me apologetically. “Mi scusi, sua Maestà.”
“That’s quite all right,” I murmured, holding up a hand. “From Stella, I don’t mind it.” I crouched down a little. “I don’t know, Stella. We are not finding out.”
Stella squealed excitedly, then coughed a little, and I began rubbing her back instinctively. When she recovered, she looked back at me, beaming once more. “If you have a girl, you must give this to her.” She held out her Elsa doll and I stared at it a bit stupidly.
“What?”
She pressed it into me. “Take this for the princess.”
I shook my head immediately. “No, Stella, that is your doll. You need Elsa more.”
I thought I was stubborn, but looking at Stella’s face and the way she set her jaw, I knew I was in for it. “No,” she said very firmly. “The princess needs Elsa.”
Helpless, I took the doll from her, swallowing hard. “What if I have a boy?” I asked hoarsely.
She smirked in victory. “Then he can tell his little sister about the girl in hospital who gave her an Elsa doll.”
Cursed pregnancy hormones rose with a vengeance and my tears spilled over. I straightened up and kissed the top of Stella’s head. “If I do have a princess,” I whispered, “I promise to give her your name in your honor.”
Stella grinned and the nurse gasped. “Then when I get a new doll,” Stella told me, “I will name her Katerina.”
Well, now I was beyond words. I held out my hand for her to shake, which she did with a surprisingly strong grip. “Deal.”
Giacomo was suddenly behind me. “Your Majesty, the others are waiting,” he murmured politely.
I nodded at him, then winked at Stella. “Don’t forget our lunch date, Stella.”
She shook her head, still smiling.
I couldn’t help sniffling a little as I moved on, and Giacomo, ever prepared, slid a fresh handkerchief into my hand. I thanked him with a nod and greeted the other children that were waiting for us.
Nico and I met in the middle and he squeezed my hand as he passed me. I avoided meeting his gaze, knowing I would dissolve into a puddle if we locked eyes. The rest of the children were just as adorable, but none spoke English the way Stella had, so my conversations were fairly short. Some had drawn pictures for Nico or for me, some could only smile and say hello. But it was enough.
This was why I was okay with being royalty. Experiences like this reminded me of what I could do, what Nico could do, and how we could help.
We eventually left the cancer wing and toured the rest of the hospital, before Nico forced me to the nursery to see the babies. They were all cute, of course, but they were nameless babies belonging to other women, and they all looked like new babies.
It wasn’t the same thing.
I wanted to do something for Stella, so I had Giacomo get another Elsa doll delivered to her, which he did right away, with a note from me.
And I began to hope that I would have a girl. I could get used to the idea of naming a baby after a girl like that.
Energy was a beautiful thing.
I’m not sure what happened, but I was suddenly feeling great and excited and loving being pregnant. I was enjoying my husband again, I worked out with Natalia three times a week, I felt cute in the maternity clothes that Violetta, Chiara, and Lemon had stocked me with, and I had a completely full schedule all the time. Interviews, appearances, meetings, charity events… I was doing it all. The full queenly agenda.
And more than that, I was loving it.
My staff was delighted.
I was still tired, and slept like the dead every night, but since I wasn’t looking for the nearest bathroom and actually felt like a human being again, it felt like an amazing surge of energy.
The Royal Baby Watch had continued full blast, and Lemon and I were on the cover of everything these days, either together or apart. There were bets on who was going to give birth first, if they would be boys or girls, and on what we would name them. We had our maternity clothes analyzed every time we were photographed and Lemon was beating me in the fashion rankings, but I was beating her in the “Mommy look”; meaning, I looked better in normal clothes than she did, but she was kicking my trash in formalwear.
No surprises there.
Even with her bump, which was growing cuter by the day, she looked fabulous and sensual and every bit the Marilyn Monroe doppelganger that she was.
I was the regular girl, and I guess people liked that.
Fine by me.
We each took our own trips, Lemon to the States to visit her parents and make nice with the American press; me to London to meet with some sister charities to the Queen’s Charity for Children, and to see the progress that was being made with fostering programs there. I loved working with the social workers far more than the lawyers and bureaucrats involved with the details, but I had to work with both, and something about my pregnancy made me want to do more and more there. I pushed myself as much as I could, loving that I actually had a voice and an influence on these programs, and seeing the kids directly affected by the changes made my hormones skyrocket.
I would have done more if I could.
I knew my limitations, and didn’t need the reminders of my bodyguards or texts from Nico to keep to them. But I refused to be one of those women who was babied just because she was carrying a baby.
I already had everything in the world done for me, from luggage to makeup to dishes, so finding things I could do was getting hard.
Still, now that I was back home in the palace, which was still bizarre to think of as home, it was kind of nice to have things quiet and to have people waiting on me hand and foot.
Which reminded me…
When Nico got back from his meetings, I was so getting a foot rub.
There was a knock at the bedroom door and I finished buttoning up my très fashionable maternity pajamas. You know, just in case I was ever photographed in my nightwear.
I laughed to myself and went to the door, surprised to find Serafina there in her Elsa nightgown that was almost too short she’d had it so long, and hugging her doll tightly.
“Hey kiddo,” I said in surprise. “What’s up?”
She sniffed a little and shrugged. “You and Nico and everybody have been gone a lot lately. Everybody is so busy. Everything is about the babies now, and nobody wants to play with me anymore.”
Something inside me broke a little and I reached out to pull her against me, stroking her hair. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’re all a little caught up in everything right now. Are you feeling left out?”
She nodded against me and hugged tightly.
I sighed and awkwardly made my way down to her height, which was quite a feat since the baby was starting to get big enough to be in the way. I brushed one of Serafina’s dark curls away from her brow and met her eyes as seriously as I could. “What can we do right now to make up for it?”
Her eyes widened. “Right now?” she asked, sounding shocked and intrigued.
I nodded. “Right now.”
“But it’s bedtime!”
“Why should that stop us?” I asked, raising a brow at her. “I’m a queen and you’re a princess, we can do
what we want every now and then.”
She shook her head in awe and said something rapidly in Italian that probably translated to “Frak, you’re crazy.” Then she started to smile and her blue eyes twinkled. “Can we have a dance party?” she asked, hopping a little.
Oh, why not? Natalia said I should move around more.
So I grinned at my littlest sister-in-law and said, “You bet. But a two person dance party is a little lame. Go see if the girls want in.”
She was gone in a flash and before I could find my iPod, she was back with both sisters in tow, smiling brightly and pajama clad themselves.
“Really?” I asked the older girls, grinning at them.
“I was going to ask you the same question,” Violetta replied, giving my stomach a pointed look.
“Can you dance?” Chiara asked, looking worried.
I gave her a hard look. “I’m not that big yet, and this isn’t the Ice Capades.”
Chiara and Serafina laughed and I handed off my iPod to them to fiddle with while they hooked it up.
Violetta came and sat on the bed, waiting. “How are you feeling?”
I turned to her, still shocked that the sister who had hated me most was now one of my best friends, and she had become quite a popular figure as well. After her experience in rehab, she had decided to become an advocate for improving body image perceptions and in the fight against drugs. She never shied away from her own experience and was making an impact with teenage girls all over the world.
Quite frankly, I was in awe of her.
“Good enough,” I answered, bringing myself back to her question. “Baby doesn’t move much until I try to sleep, so apparently I’m having a night owl.”
Violetta grinned. “Just like her papa.”
“Also,” I added, sitting down next to her, “baby likes gelato.”
That made her laugh. “Just like her mama!”
“How big is the baby now?” Serafina asked suddenly, dashing over to feel my belly.
I’d already checked myself that day, because it was too much fun to imagine.
“A pomegranate,” I told her with a wink.
Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed an O. Her hands shifted on me. “Can I feel it yet?”
I shook my head. “Not quite. Pretty soon though.”
“I felt Lemon’s baby yesterday.”
I almost frowned at that, but resisted. “Yeah, Lemon’s baby is a kung fu fighter. I think mine is sleeping a lot.”
“Maybe a dance party will wake her up!” Chiara said as “Heartbeat Song” by Kelly Clarkson started blasting out from the speakers.
I was pulled to my feet and the four of us started dancing like we were down in Inferno, Dante’s club in the basement of the palace. None of us were dancers, but that didn’t stop us. I was ungainly, awkward, and uncoordinated, way more so because now I was almost fifteen pounds heavier and not my usual shape.
But I didn’t care. It felt so good to move without feeling sick and to actually want to move. It felt amazing to let loose with the girls and forget that I was a queen with duties and responsibilities. Hopping and dancing around that room, twirling Serafina, and laughing hysterically, was the absolute best I had felt in months.
It didn’t take long for Lemon to poke her head in with a “what in holy heck are all y’all doing?” and less than thirty seconds for her to come in, adorable and incredibly visible bump and all, and put us all to shame.
We went through all of our favorites; Adele, OneRepublic, Maroon 5, Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, Pink, and, for Lemon and me, Whitney Houston and Celine Dion. We switched back and forth between dancing and lip syncing, and at Serafina’s insistence, all fake microphones had to be an object, so remotes and brushes and rolls of paper made from last week’s agendas were all put to use.
We were in the middle of rocking out an epic version of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody,” complete with Lemon and I making a stage of my massive bed and being somehow both the lead singers and the backup dancers, when we caught sight of the doorway to the bedroom, where two gorgeous dark haired men with matching amused smiles were leaning, still in their suits, but ties loose.
“That right there is a poster I would have had hanging in my bedroom,” Lemon said in my ear with a wild grin. “Woof.”
I laughed and trained my eyes on my ridiculously handsome husband as we went into the big finish, singing to him now. His smile stretched a bit wider and I could see a hundred and seven emotions in his eyes, all of which made me tickly and warm, but he made no move to come in further.
The girls applauded like crazy when the song ended and we all collapsed onto the bed, breathless and exhausted, and a bit delirious.
“Oh heavens,” Lemon panted, rubbing her belly absently. “I haven’t moved like that in ages.”
“Pretty sure I never have,” I managed beside her.
“That was so much fun!” Serafina squealed, bouncing on the bed. “When’s the next one?”
“Probably once this baby’s out of me and I get my body back,” Lemon laughed.
“Or right now,” Nico said softly as a quieter song came on. He took my hand in his and pulled me to a sitting position. I looked up at him with a tired smile and he stroked my cheek. “Do you have one dance left for me, cuore mio?”
I squeezed the hand he held. “Always.”
I let him pull me up to my feet and moved into his arms, laying my head on his chest and wrapping my other arm around him. I smiled when I saw that Dante had done the same thing with Lemon, then closed my eyes and let my husband lead me in whatever sort of dance he could.
I don’t think we did more than slowly turn in a circle, but I didn’t care. It felt like an old fashioned grand waltz in a ballroom out of Cinderella.
And I had scored the prince.
Nico’s hand absently trailed up and down my back, his head leaning on mine. “You are going to be so tired, love.”
I laughed a little and snuggled closer. “Yep, I will be hurting for days, but it was worth it.”
He chuckled and pressed his lips against my skin. “I know. At least, it was worth the sight I had. You were so lovely, so beautiful, and so free. It made me wish you were mine so badly. Then I reminded myself that you are, and I cannot tell you how that feels.”
Swoon. I tilted my face back to kiss him softly. “I am yours, baby. Don’t you forget it.”
He held me tighter, smiling as he kissed me again. “I am the luckiest man alive.”
“Dang straight.” I winked at him and let him dip me as the song finished, laughing as the girls clapped and cheered.
Nico chuckled and kissed me quickly, then righted us both and turned to the speakers. “All right, party over, everybody back to your own beds.”
There was good natured grumbling, mostly from Dante, but they started to clear out.
Serafina dashed back in and hugged me tightly. “Thank you so much, Kat. This was the best dance party ever!”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.” I kissed her head and she skipped out of the room.
Dante and Lemon hung back, arms around each other, and murmuring quietly.
Nico looked at them with a raised brow. “Are you two planning on having a couples sleepover, or…?”
Lemon snorted loudly and Dante pretended to consider the idea.
“Lord, no,” Lemon said, still laughing. “Dante was just telling me about the idea he told you about, and I think it’s a great one.”
“Thank you, darling,” Dante replied with a surprised smile. He looked at me with more serious eyes. “She never compliments me if she can help it, and I never have good ideas.”
That earned him a slap in the chest and I grinned at them. “What’s the idea?”
He glanced at Nico, who tilted his head towards the door, then looked back at me with a knowing smile. “Eh, Nico can tell you about it. He needs suggestions for pillow talk.”
“Out!” Nico ordered with a laugh.
Dante twined his
fingers with Lemon’s and pulled her from the room. Then he stuck his head back in. “Oh, and Kat?”
I had started heading for bed, but turned to look at him. “Dante?”
He smiled and winked boldly at me. “Next dance party, make sure I’m invited. I’ve got moves you’ve just got to see.”
“I’ll move you, hubby, if you don’t get going right now!” Lemon barked from the hallway.
Nico shut the door, shaking his head, and flicked off the light.
I climbed into bed and waited for him, and didn’t have to wait long for him to slide in behind me, spooning me and pulling me flush against him. He heaved a sigh and nuzzled into my hair, murmuring his sleepy mixture of Italian and English that I couldn’t make out.
“What’s Dante’s idea?” I asked, pulling his arms around me more tightly.
“Battle of the Brothers,” he replied, kissing my neck.
I frowned a little. “Say what?”
“The focus has been so much on you and Lemon with the babies and he thought you could use a break. So why not take a look at the fathers of the Royal Babies? You know, see what we’re doing, how we’re preparing, and if we are as clueless as the rest of the fathers in the world.” He chuckled softly and one hand moved down to my belly, rubbing gently. “Battle of the Babies, Daddy edition?”
I leaned against him, smiling at the thought. “That could be awesome.”
He nodded, yawning. “Could be. I’ll let Lemon figure out the details. But Dante is lording over the fact that he’s felt his baby kick and I haven’t. So rude.”
“So rude,” I echoed, biting my lip. I hadn’t had time to tell him that our baby had been kicking lately, just not that hard and he was never around when it happened. I couldn’t wake him up in the night when the kicks would wake me, and the randomness throughout the day wasn’t exactly something to text him about. I wanted him to feel it for himself; I didn’t want to remind him of something he hadn’t experienced.
But after our dance party, and now that I was laying down and trying to sleep, I had a feeling.
I took the hand on my belly and shifted it just a little to the right and down, and pressed it firmly against me, and waited.
The Royals of Monterra: Royal Delivery (Kindle Worlds) Page 6
