ELEVEN
Stylish Men’s Swim Trunks & High Stakes Parenting
Tessa - 14 Weeks
Email from Dylan Sinclairto Princess Tessa
RE: New Rebranding Strategy
Dear Princess Tessa,
As it’s been weeks since we’ve met, I was more than a little surprised when I caught the photos of you leaving your doctor’s office today. Clearly, you are not going to be able to act as spokesperson for the Avonian Healthy Pregnancy Foundation but have gone in a different direction with your pregnancy.
Have been considering ways to improve your image throughout the kingdom. As such, have been binge watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians since I left the palace this evening. This led to my stunning revelation that half of being a trendsetter is simply deciding you are one.
All you have to do is change how you feel and talk about yourself. It's a whole 'yes, I know you wish you were me' attitude. Totally effective—look at how Kim has managed to make huge booties the latest craze? Just by having one and saying, 'Look at my huge bootie. If you had one, you could land Kanye, too.' Now women all over the world are rushing to get butt implants.
In this spirit, let's try something new next week. I want you to be unapologetically you. You’re enormous right now, we can't change that, but what we can do is make it seem like this is exactly how you wanted to look. Really own this pregnancy. Be all, ‘Hey, this is what pregnancy looks like. Deal with it.’ Then we just need to get some glamour shots of you like this and keep cycling them through social media until every woman would kill to gain a pile of baby weight.
Ciao,
Dylan
P.S. Let's pick this up on Monday at our spin session. You will be there this time, right?
***
IT’S MONDAY AFTERNOON, and I’m not at my ‘spin sesh’ but instead have had Gillian tell Dylan I am urgently needed in a meeting. I’m instead playing hooky for the first time since I married Arthur. Nikki, who has Mondays off from the salon, and Arabella, who also needed a ‘beach day’, are spending a few hours lounging beside the pool with me.
Oh, I bet you didn't know palaces often have swimming pools, this one included. I actually didn't realize we had one until a couple of months after Arthur and I were married, on account of it being tucked away at the back side of the palace in a very private spot, surrounded by shrubbery. It’s an enormous indoor pool in an addition that’s almost entirely glassed in. On a hot day like today, you can have the walls opened up to let in the fresh air.
Since I don't have swimwear that fits me right now (and I refuse to buy some just to wear a couple of times), I'm in a pair of men's swim trunks that are kept on hand for guests. I’ve paired it with an oversized T-shirt (an outfit I can only get away with in front of my two best friends, who are definitely more beach-ready than me and are therefore dressed in bikinis). To be honest, I feel a little awkward because Xavier and Bellford, Arabella’s bodyguard, are here, but if I don't think about it, I can fully enjoy a responsibility-free afternoon with no chance of someone snapping an unflattering photo.
After going for a long dip, the three of us pull chaise longues out onto the terrace and lie out in the sun, drinking in the warmth and pure tranquility as we dry off.
"I can't remember the last time I felt so relaxed," I say, pulling a towel over my face to avoid a sunburn.
"Me neither," Arabella says with a satisfied sigh.
"This is almost as good as a bath," Nikki says.
I drift off to sleep for a few minutes, only to have my recurring nightmare about losing the baby. I wake with a start, panicking because I can’t see. I gasp, sitting up quickly, and yelling, “I’m blind!”
“Whoa. You all right?” Nikki asks, sliding the towel off my face.
I’m met by her concerned expression. “Yeah, just a bad dream.”
Arabella sets down the magazine she’s reading. “That was fast. You were only asleep for a couple of minutes.”
I wipe the sweat off my face with the towel and have a sip of lemon water. “This is going to sound crazy, but I’ve been having the same nightmare, and I can’t help thinking it might be a sign.”
“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good,” Nikki says, sitting up and spinning her body sideways on her chaise to face me.
“I know I shouldn’t let it get to me. I mean, it’s probably hormones or something, but I keep dreaming about losing the baby.”
“Losing her? That’s awful.” Nikki places her hand over mine. Arabella, who is on the other side of me, stands and rubs the back of my right shoulder with one hand.
“Oh, no, not like that. Like, we can’tfindher. She’s crawling around on the floor at the palace, and she disappears. We search for hours, but she’s just gone.”
