“I’ll get Jonathan,” I say, already moving toward the door.
“No need to panic,” Kit manages through gritted teeth. “It’s probably just?—”
Her words cut off as she shifts and a sudden rush of fluid soaks the sofa beneath her.
“Or perhaps not,” she finishes weakly, looking up with wide eyes. “I think my water just broke.”
The next few minutes are a blur of activity. I run to fetch Jonathan and the royal physician while Leo helps Kit to a more comfortable position. By the time I return with the Prince Consort and medical staff in tow, the Queen’s contractions are coming regularly, her composed facade giving way to the reality of impending childbirth.
“Sorry about your sofa,” she tells Leo as they transfer her to a wheelchair. “Send me the bill.”
Leo laughs, the sound tinged with anxious affection. “I’ll put it on your tab.”
Jonathan kneels beside the wheelchair, taking his wife’s hand. “Ready to meet our children, my queen?”
She grimaces through another contraction. “I think they’re rather insistent on the introduction.”
As they prepare to move her to the medical wing, Kit suddenly reaches out, grabbing my arm with surprising strength. “Rangi,” she says, her voice clear despite her discomfort, “take care of my brother. He needs someone who sees him as Leo, not just as the prince.”
Before I can respond, she turns to Leo. “And you—don’t mess this up. He’s good for you.”
Leo flushes, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Damn right, ‘Your Majesty,’” she retorts, then grimaces as another contraction hits. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
Jonathan wheels her away, the medical team following close behind, leaving Leo and me standing in the middle of his sitting room, the abandoned tea and folders still scattered across the table.
“Well,” Leo says after a moment, “that was...”
“Dramatic?” I suggest.
“I was going to say ‘typical Kit,’ but dramatic works too.” He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I’m coming to recognize as a sign of emotional processing. “I’m going to be an uncle.”
I smile, moving to stand beside him. “You mean again. I’m pretty sure you’re already an uncle.”
“True, but this time I’ll actually be here for the birth.” He turns to face me, his expression suddenly serious. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About us figuring things out as we go?”
“Every word,” I assure him. “Why?”
He gestures to the scattered papers, the evidence of Kit’s impromptu strategy session. “Because I think I might have a solution to our problem. One that doesn’t require constitutional crisis or political warfare.”
“I’m listening.”
“What if,” he says slowly, “instead of trying to block mining permits individually or creating a special category of protection that politicians can chip away at, we establish a national heritage trust? Place all the sacred sites under its protection as cultural parks—similar to national parks but with special recognition of their spiritual significance.”
I consider this, seeing the potential. “It would need to include tribal oversight.”
“Of course. In fact, the governing board could be majority tribal representatives.” His eyes light up as the idea takes shape. “We could frame it as honouring the new royal births—a commitment to protecting Astipian heritage for future generations.”
“The ‘Future of Astipia Act,’” I suggest, catching his enthusiasm.
“Exactly! It would be hard for even Jane Beesley to oppose something celebrating royal heirs and national heritage—not to mention securing green spaces for the future generations to enjoy.” He paces now, energy radiating from him. “We’d need to move quickly, though, while the public goodwill from the births is at its peak.”
“It could work,” I agree, impressed by the elegant simplicity of the solution. “But what about the Valley of Whispers and the other sites with active mining interests already in place?”
His expression turns determined. “We offer a compromise—phased transition for existing operations but no new development. And generous tax incentives for companies that voluntarily relocate.”
“The elders might be willing to accept that, as long as there’s a firm timeline and guarantees against expansion.”
