“Like clockwork,” I assure him. “She’s a perfect ambassador already.”
“Kit will be pleased.” He glances at Rangi, offering a genuine smile. “Thank you for helping with this. I know it’s rather beyond the usual diplomatic duties.”
“It’s my honour,” Rangi replies, as he lifts Elanor off his shoulders to hand her over to her father.
Jonathan’s eyes flick between us, and I see the moment he decides to speak plainly. “Kit’s orchestrating quite the introduction for you two, isn’t she?”
Rangi chuckles. “Is it that obvious?”
“To anyone who knows her, yes.” Jonathan shakes his head fondly. “When Kit decides something is going to happen, resistance is futile. And she’s decided the two of you are going to be public knowledge, but on her terms and her timeline.”
“I’d be annoyed if she weren’t so damned effective,” I admit.
“That’s the general reaction to Kit’s machinations,” Jonathan agrees. He catches Eleanor’s hand before she can run off then reaches for Fiona with the practice of a father of two. “She’ll be here in a minute. She wanted to make a proper entrance.”
As if summoned by her name, the door opens and Kit appears, resplendent in formal attire that cleverly disguises the fact that she gave birth less than a month ago. Her crown catches the light, the ancient gemstones glittering as she surveys our little group.
“Well?” she demands without preamble. “How did it go?”
“Exactly according to your master plan,” I tell her dryly. “The press ate it up.”
She grins, unrepentant. “Excellent.” She moves to take Fiona from Jonathan, her expression softening as she gazes at her daughter. “Did you enjoy your first official appearance, my darling? Did you help your uncles present the proper image?”
“She was perfect,” I assure her. “They both were.”
“Of course they were. They’re my children.” Kit’s gaze shifts to Rangi. “And you, Captain? How did you find your first experience of royal display?”
“Educational,” he replies diplomatically, earning a laugh from Kit.
“Well, get used to it.” She adjusts Fiona’s blanket. “The public seems quite intrigued by your presence in our little family circle.”
“You’re impossible,” I tell her, though without heat.
“I’m efficient,” she corrects. “Why waste a perfectly good opportunity for positive press? The public gets their cultural education, the palace gets favourable coverage, the tribal representatives are honoured, and you two get to be seen together without it becoming a scandalous revelation.” Sheshrugs as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. “Everyone wins.”
“And the fact that you’re slowly conditioning the public to see Rangi as part of the family?” I challenge.
Her smile is serene. “A happy coincidence.”
Before I can respond, Victoria appears at the door. “Your Majesty, they’re ready for you.”
Kit nods, her expression shifting to the public face of monarchy—serene, dignified, powerful. “Let’s not keep them waiting. Jonathan, children, with me. Leo, Rangi, follow behind as we discussed.”
As we move to take our places for the formal procession onto the terrace, Kit pauses beside me, her voice dropping to ensure only I can hear.
“Leo, I know what I’m doing,” she says softly. “Trust me. This way, when you’re ready to make a formal announcement, it won’t come as a shock. They’ll already be used to seeing you together.”
I’m touched by her concern, hidden though it is beneath layers of pragmatism and royal strategy. “Thank you,” I murmur.
Her smile warms. “What are big sisters for, if not to meddle in their brothers’ love lives?” Then, louder for all to hear, “Places, everyone. We have a historic Act to sign.”
We follow Kit and Jonathan onto the terrace, taking our designated positions as the royal announcement begins. Prime Minister Beesley delivers a carefully worded speech about heritage preservation, followed by Elder Kiri who speaks powerfully about the sacred connection between land andpeople. Throughout, I’m aware of Rangi beside me, our shoulders occasionally brushing as we stand witness to this moment we helped create.
When Kit steps forward to sign the Future of Astipia Act into law, her voice carries clear across the assembled crowd.
“Today, we establish a legacy for generations to come,” she declares. “A promise that the sacred places of our ancestors will remain for our children, and their children after them. This is not merely conservation, but a recognition that our heritage—all aspects of it—deserves respect and protection.”
As she speaks, I feel Rangi’s hand brush against mine, a brief touch hidden from the cameras by our positions. I respond in kind, our fingers interlacing for just a moment before separating, the contact brief but meaningful.
