Chapter 22: A Return of Warmth

The day of Amaria's return to the palace was a momentous one. The royal gates were thrown open, and as the royal carriage approached, the familiar sight of the palace grounds seemed to come alive with anticipation. King Knox stood by the grand window in his chambers, eyes narrowed as he watched her arrival from afar. He had spent the last several days in restless contemplation, and now that she was finally back, a wave of emotions—ones he couldn't easily dismiss—washed over him.

Amaria had been away for a few days, but to both Prince Alexander and King Knox, it had felt like an eternity. The young prince had missed his mother figure dearly, and there was a look of pure joy on his face as he bounded toward her the moment the carriage door opened.

"Mama!" he exclaimed, running towards her with arms wide open, his small face lighting up with an exuberance that seemed to fill the whole courtyard. Without hesitation, Prince Alexander clung to her legs, almost knocking her off balance with his enthusiasm.

Amaria laughed, bending down to scoop him up in her arms. "Oh, Alexander baby, I missed you so much!" she said, her voice tender as she hugged him tightly. He buried his face in her shoulder, holding her as though afraid to let go.

King Knox stood back, watching the scene unfold before him. He couldn't help but feel a tightness in his chest at the sight of Amaria being embraced by his son, her warmth enveloping the boy as if she were his anchor. For a moment, he stood frozen, his emotions at odds with the cold, stoic exterior he had maintained for so long.

Later that evening, during the royal dinner, the atmosphere in the palace seemed lighter. Amaria's presence had a way of softening everything around her. Prince Alexander, still attached to her like a shadow, sat beside her at the table, never once letting go of her hand. He insisted that she sit next to him, and despite the grand meal before them, the young prince's focus remained solely on her.

"I'm so glad you're back, Mama," he said in his usual, innocent manner, looking up at her with wide eyes. "I don't want you to go away again."

Amaria smiled, brushing a lock of hair from his face. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise," she replied gently, her eyes warm with affection.

As the evening wore on, King Knox could hardly ignore the subtle pang in his chest. He had always believed that his bond with Alexander was unshakable, that his son would always look to him as the father figure he needed. But now, as he watched Amaria's interactions with the boy, he couldn't deny the envy that bubbled up inside him. The ease with which she had become the center of Alexander's world was undeniable. Her warmth, her kindness—there was no mistaking the love that passed between them.

By the time the dinner came to an end, Prince Alexander was reluctant to leave Amaria's side. The little boy clung to her more tightly, his small arms wrapped around her, refusing to let her go.

"Please, Mama, can you sleep in my room tonight?" he pleaded, his voice filled with innocence and a touch of desperation. "I don't want to sleep alone."

Amaria, ever compassionate, didn't hesitate. "Of course, Alexander. I'll stay with you."

She glanced at King Knox briefly, as if seeking his approval. The king's expression was unreadable, but there was a brief flash of something in his eyes—something that only she seemed to notice.

Amaria followed the young prince to his chamber, where he had already prepared the bed for her, arranging pillows with his own small hands. When she entered, he jumped into her arms once again, his face glowing with a look of complete contentment.

As the night went on, Amaria settled beside him in bed, his little body curled against hers, seeking comfort in her presence. The warmth between them felt so natural, so right, and Amaria couldn't help but feel a deep sense of fulfillment. She had missed this—the closeness, the bond, the way Alexander seemed to find peace in her presence.

Meanwhile, back in the royal chambers, King Knox couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. His thoughts wandered, and for the first time in weeks, he allowed himself to confront the jealousy that had been building inside him. His son, the boy he had raised, had become so attached to Amaria—so reliant on her for comfort—that it left him feeling a sense of inadequacy, something he rarely ever experienced.

He could hear the faint sound of Amaria's voice through the walls of his chamber, soft and reassuring as she spoke to Prince Alexander. The boy's laughter echoed through the halls, a sound that, once so familiar, now seemed more distant to him.

King Knox knew it wasn't rational to feel this way. He knew Amaria's bond with Alexander was nothing more than a motherly love, something he had hoped for his son from the very beginning. But hearing her in Alexander's room, hearing the boy so completely at ease in her presence, made something inside him stir—something he hadn't fully understood until now.

As he lay in his bed alone, the coldness that usually surrounded him seemed more suffocating than ever before. The warmth of the room, the soft glow of the candlelight, the silence—none of it felt quite right without Amaria by his side. The realization hit him then, with an intensity that startled him: He missed her. He missed her presence beside him. He missed the simple, comforting routine they had established.

He wasn't just jealous of the bond she shared with Alexander—he was jealous of the affection she showed so freely, of the connection they shared. He couldn't deny it any longer. There was something between them, something that went beyond duty, beyond obligation.

And for the first time, King Knox found himself wondering if he had truly made the right decision when he chose to marry her.