Gabriel had never felt more helpless in his life. The nurse and midwife took him to task more than once for insisting they do more for his wife, but watching Evelyne suffer was his own suffering.
Until he heard his son cry. Then everything seemed to melt away. The nurse put a wriggling, mewling creature on his wife’s chest, and their gazes met over his head. For a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.
They were parents. They had a son.
When his son was placed into his arms, clean and bundled up, he knew there would be no running away in fear. No, from here on out, there could only be love, strength, support and doing whatever was required of him to be there for his son. Fight or acquiesce, support or lean, and always love.
Hours later, cleaned up and cuddled in together on the bed, the princess and her earl invited the king and queen to meet their nephew.
Alexandre and Ines entered together, but even in his blissful state Gabriel noticed there was something…odd about them.
But they dutifully oohed and ahhed over the baby—from opposite sides of the bed. Alexandre expressed some frustration over the fact there was still no name to go out on the royal decree, but Evelyne only told him to be patient.
When they left at the nurse’s insistence that Evelyne needed her rest, it was without ever once having looked at one another.
“They’re awfully icy with one another,” Evelyne murmured, her head on Gabriel’s shoulder, her gaze on their baby.
“I believe they had a bit of a row earlier,” Gabriel murmured, stroking the babe’s cheek.
“But Alexandre and Ines never fight,” Evelyne said, lifting her gaze—briefly—to Gabriel. Then back to their son, like she couldn’t bear to look away for more than a minute any more than Gabriel could.
“I heard shouting this morning,” he told her. “And Alexandre was very distracted during our morning meeting.”
“Hmm.” But the troubles of Alexandre and Ines had nothing on the beautiful, sleeping boy in her arms. They both watched him in fully content silence.
“He is perfect,” Evelyne said after a while.
Gabriel would have to insist she sleep soon, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to take the baby away from her. Not just yet.
“He is at that. We have to name him, Evelyne. No more putting it off.”
She pouted. “It’s just so permanent. What if we pick the wrong name?”
“No name is wrong. Because he is perfect regardless.”
“I guess this is true.” She tucked the blanket under his chin, stroked a finger down his cheek. Then she looked up at Gabriel. “Do you remember back in Maine when I said I would not be naming him after you?”
“Vividly,principessa.” He kissed her temple, and she leaned into him even more.
“Perhaps that is our answer. Let us give him the names of all the good men in our lives. Your father. Alexandre.You, who saved me.”
While he still struggled to consider himself agoodman, Gabriel liked the idea, because it would be a constant reminder of what heshouldbe.
So their child was christened Gabriel Manuel Alexandre Marti, and both his parents knew he would someday make Alis a most wonderful king.
But more importantly, he would be a good man, surrounded by love. Always.
