EPILOGUE
Arthur - 3 Months Later
It’s two in the morning, and little Flora has woken up again. She’s been fed, changed, and burped, but she can’t seem to settle for long tonight.
Tessa stirs, but I put my hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get her. You rest.”
“I could try feeding her again.”
“Let me see if I can settle her first. She’s probably just lonely.”
I pull on a pair of sweat pants and T-shirt, then hurry through the dark hall to the nursery. Picking her up, I hold her close so her soft, chubby little cheek is against mine. “Are you feeling lonely, my beautiful girl?”
She stops crying and grabs my ear with her tiny hand.
“Let’s go for a little walk, shall we?”
I walk around the apartment a bit, then decide to take her on a midnight tour of the palace. We end up in the Grande Hall. I turn on the lights and lay in the middle of the floor, resting her on my chest so she’s on her back and can look up at the ceiling.
“When I was a boy, I used to lay here and stare up at that mural by the hour. I’m still not sick of looking at it. It was painted over five hundred years ago. I know that doesn’t mean anything to you yet, but someday it will.”
Flora kicks her legs and waves her arms in the air.
“Oh, yes, you’re right. Giovanni Canaletto painted it. And the fact that this is in our house is both strange and wonderful, much like the life you’re going to have. You’re going to be the queen one day, but not for many, many years because I plan to live to be a hundred. That way, you can enjoy the first sixty-six years of your life without having to run an entire kingdom. You’re going to make a wonderful monarch, you know? Especially if you have your mum’s brave spirit and compassion, and my sense of humour. You probably won’t find me funny, but that’s only because I’m your dad. Most women find me hilarious.”
Flora starts to settle, and I find myself running one finger up and down her little arm in an almost-hypnotic way. “Between you and me, I’m really happy you’ll be the one running the kingdom. Your brother’s great and all, but have you seen how much he drools? I mean, honestly, he’s like one of Pavlov’s dogs or something.
“I’m just kidding. Please don’t tell him I said that, okay? I meansometimeshonesty is the best policy—case in point, Vincent no longer smelling like blue cheese—butthatkind of honesty takes a rare blend of bravery and a lack of tact so it’s better to leave those type of comments to Grandma Evi because as a future monarch, you’ll be expected to remain tactful at all times.
“But about the whole ruling thing, none of that silliness really matters. What you need to know is how much you are loved. It’s enough to fill the whole universe. And you’ll be loved every minute of every day of your life—the unconditional kind, too, so you won’t need to go trying to fill some void with a pimply-faced teenage boy when you’re fifteen.
“Speaking of boys, you’re not allowed to date until you’re forty, by the way.”
Footsteps across the room interrupt my monologue. I tilt my head and see Tessa in her robe, holding James. “Worrying about her dating already?”
She sits on the floor next to me, then lays down and holds James so he can look up, too.
“I’ll always worry about the women in my life.” I turn and glance at James. “Him, too. I’m afraid that’s not going to stop anytime soon.”
“For how long, would you say?”
“Pretty much until I draw my last breath.”
“All right. I’ll allow it,” Tessa says, putting on her regal voice.
“Thank you, madam.”
“God, we’re lucky, aren’t we?” she says with a happy sigh. “Two healthy babies, each other, a charmed life including a ton of irritatingly, wonderfully helpful people who love and care for us.”
“Like your parents,” I say, smiling, in part because it’s true, and in part because they moved back home two days ago.
Tessa says, “And Arabella and Gran, and even your dad, as it turns out.”
“Him, too,” I say. “Who knew my father would turn out to be such a soft touch when it came to his grandchildren?”
“Not me,” my father says, striding across the hall in his robe and striped pajamas. “I can tell you that much.”
“What are you doing up?”
