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Celeste perked up.
“Yes. I think I have converted her to the idea.”
Celeste raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“The main issue is that she is very…” I looked for the words as the gears spun in my mind. “She is almost prudish. She worries about anyoneknowingand seems to fear letting on to anything to her young, impressionable sisters. Neither of us put a foot wrong before we wed. You can stop demonising Alexandra for that. She was the picture of pious behaviour.”
“Well, it is good if you have talked her out of it. We’re in a bit of a succession crisis if she cannot produce an heir. Can you imagine Astrid taking over? Nonsense!”
“She wouldn’t much like it, no,” I said.
“I was thinking we wouldn’t much like it. Alexandra is very… malleable. Meek. Astrid is a hell-raiser.”
The idea that Alexandra was prudish, weak, or pious was ridiculous. Her assessment of Astrid was accurate. I knew that was why Astrid would hate the yoke of being a monarch. But Alexandra was her own person. She was growing into her shoes and far from prudish these days.
“So she understands how it works? Did you explain all of that to her?”
I cringed, appalled anyone would neglect to tell a young woman about her body. I wasfarfrom the appropriate sex educator. Lots of sex did not a teacher make. Thankfully, Alexandra hadn’t come into this with no knowledge—clearly with no thanks to her grandmother.
“She is aware… yes.”
“Well, is she… acceptable?”
“I’d rather wenotdiscuss this about my wife,” I said. “She would be mortified by your question. If you are asking if we are happy, the answer is yes.”
“I will assume that is a yes, then. Well, good. At least she’s not a cold fish. That’s an issue with new brides.”
I wanted to lash out and say I could understand why if no one taught them about sex or ever gave them space to discuss it or learn about it. Waiting until twenty-two to have one’s first orgasm was too painful to endure in my eyes. Now, the woman was insatiable. I was suddenly grateful for the awkward sex talk my father had with me when I was about ten.
“She’s a sweetheart,” I said. “I love her. Now, this is why we need rooms of our own—properly away from children. She will not even consider the idea until we have space and aren’t at risk of bothering the girls.”
“Can you not simply be… quiet?”
“That is not within my power alone. She is very prudish. As I said. She worries.”
She was also loud. I loved it.
“Fine. If this will allow you to move forward and produce an heir, I will move out—temporarily. It has been a long while since I went back to our country home for the winter holidays. It might suit me. If you do not conceive an heir in the next three months, I will blame Alexandra and move back.”
“Please don’t blame her,” I said. “These things take time.”
“I conceived her dear father on our honeymoon. It is the least she can do. She is good for little else.”
Celeste’s words stung. Good for little else? My heart broke for Alexandra. Then, I was enraged. I kept a lid on it and played along. It pained me. Alexandra was good for many things. She was kind, patient, and loving. She saw people for who they were deep down and was willing to forgive even though I didn’t deserve her love. The idea that she was now reduced to the contents of her uterus offended me.
“So, I shall give it a few days and then move to my country house. Please don’t destroy the place in the meantime.”
“Of course not,” I said. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Forty-Five
Alexandra
The blub-blub of a heartbeat and its telltale flicker on the screen suited Rikard and me. Our baby had a heart. It was healthy for now, even if I wasn’t. I felt as if I had been smashed by a trash compactor and still upset about my circumstances. It was difficult to accept that my wonderful, newlywed existence had been upended by my stupid body’s betrayal. Yet, I struggle to ignore the sheer happiness on Rikard’s face upon seeing our future child.
I didn’t expect him to accept it—let alone be excited about this news. Maybe it was because he was older? He was happiest when he got to take home the photos from our scan—a look at our beautiful little bean—face proud. He was blissfully in love.
While Rick could be happy and only happy, I worried about my health above all else. The doctor explained what happened to my mother was rare and was due to a delivery at home. While that was still the protocol for royal births in Neandia when I was born, it was not the tack we’d take. He explained how they would have intervened with a modern approach. I was less reassured and more traumatised.
