Leo nods, then suddenly laughs. “Leave it to Kit to go into labour in the middle of a political crisis and somehow inspire a solution.” He steps closer, reaching for my hand. “What do you think? Should we draft a proposal while we wait for news?”
I squeeze his fingers, loving this glimpse of him in his element—passionate, strategic, determined to protect what matters. “I think it’s a brilliant idea. And I’m happy to help however I can.”
His smile warms me from the inside out. “Good, because I suspect we’re about to spend the next several hours alternating between drafting policy and pacing nervously outside the medical wing.”
I laugh, lifting his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.”
The royal baby—arrives just after midnight, her birth announced by the traditional ringing of bells that echoes across the capital. By dawn, the palace is buzzing with the news, flags raised and celebrations beginning throughout the country.
Leo and I, along with Charlotte and Roy, spend most of the night in a waiting room outside the medical wing, working with a flurry of lawyers and policy makers to draft the outline of the Future of Astipia Bill between updates from Jonathan and the medical staff. By morning, we have both a basic policy framework and two healthy royal children to celebrate.
“She’s perfect,” Charlotte says, emerging from visiting her sister and the newborn. “Absolutely perfect. And Kit is already terrifying the nurses, so she’s clearly doing well.”
“Has she decided on a name yet?” Leo asks, stifling a yawn. Despite the long night, his eyes are bright with excitement.
Charlotte grins. “Officially, she’ll be Princess Aroyah Fiona. Unofficially, she’s already calling her ‘Chaos.’”
Roy laughs, his arm around Charlotte’s waist. “Fitting.”
“She’s asking for you,” Charlotte tells Leo. “Both of you, actually.” She gives me a look, and I realize with a start that I’m being included in this intimate family moment.
Leo glances at me, a question in his eyes that I answer with a nod. Together, we make our way to the private room where the Queen of Astipia reclines on a hospital bed, looking remarkably composed for someone who has just given birth. Jonathan sits beside her, holding his sleeping first born toddler, Eleanor, while Kit cradles the baby.
“There you are,” Kit says when we enter, her voice tired but triumphant. “Come meet your niece.”
Leo approaches the bed with reverence, his eyes fixed on the tiny bundle. “She’s beautiful, Kit.”
“Of course she is. She’s mine.” But her smile softens the boast. “Would you like to hold her?” She offers the bundle in her arms.
With careful movements, Leo takes his niece, cradling her with a tenderness that makes my heart ache. “Hello, Princess,” he whispers. “Welcome to the world.”
I hang back, feeling like an intruder on this family moment, but Kit beckons me forward. “Rangi, come here. Fiona should meet her uncle’s partner.”
The casual acknowledgment takes me by surprise. Leo looks up from the baby, his expression a warm mix of contentment and pleasure.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Kit says, rolling her eyes. “I caught you in bed together. I’m sleep-deprived, not amnesiac.”
Jonathan chuckles. “You might as well get used to it. Once Kit decides something, resistance is futile.”
With a sense of unreality, I find myself taking the baby from Leo. And just like that, I’m holding a sleeping Princess, her prefect little face peaceful in rest. “She’s amazing,” I say, slightly overwhelmed by the trust being placed in me.
“She is,” Kit agrees, watching me with those perceptive eyes so like her brother’s. “And I want her—and Eleanor—to grow up knowing all the places of our people—not just from stories, but from experience.” She looks between Leo and me. “Did you make any progress on that plan you were discussing when I so inconveniently went into labour?”
Leo laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Literally nothing stops you, does it?”
“Childbirth is a convenient excuse to rest,” Kit says serenely. “Now, tell me about this plan.”
As Leo outlines our idea for the Future of Astipia Bill, I watch Kit’s expression move from interest to enthusiasm. When he finishes, she nods decisively.
“It’s perfect. A national heritage trust with tribal oversight, framed as a legacy for the next generation.” She turns to Jonathan. “What do you think?”
He considers for a moment. “It’s politically savvy. Hard to oppose without seeming to be against climate initiatives, not to mention our future economical interests. The tourism dollarsalone make it worthwhile. The mining companies won’t like it, but they can be managed with the right incentives.”
“Exactly.” Kit looks back at Leo and me. “Draft it properly and bring it to me this afternoon. I want to announce it at the same time as the formal birth announcement.”
“This afternoon?” Leo raises an eyebrow. “You just had a baby. Shouldn’t you be resting?”
Kit waves this away. “I’ve had a nap. I’ll rest properly when my country’s heritage is secure.”
