Chapter 32: Unexpected Beginnings

A few days passed in the kingdom, and everything seemed to return to its usual rhythm after the dramatic events surrounding Clarissa's betrayal. However, there was a shift in the palace that not many could see—Amaria had started to feel unwell. At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible. A light nausea that came in the morning, a slight dizziness in the afternoons, and fatigue that clung to her like a heavy fog.

She didn't think much of it, dismissing it as a passing illness, perhaps something she had caught from the bustling court. After all, with all the royal duties, meetings, and preparations, it wasn't uncommon to feel a bit run down. But the symptoms lingered, and slowly, the faintest inkling grew within her—she might be pregnant.

But Amaria, unsure of herself and not wanting to jump to conclusions, didn't mention it to anyone. Not even King Knox, whose presence had become more constant in her life since the wedding. She didn't want to make assumptions or stir unnecessary worries.

Prince Alexander, on the other hand, seemed to notice his mother's condition without her realizing. The little boy, who had grown so attached to Amaria, had become more protective of her as the days passed. He would often stay close to her, holding her hand, offering her small gestures of care that were far beyond his years.

On one particular afternoon, Amaria had retired to a chair by the window, feeling unusually tired. The sky outside was cloudy, the soft sounds of rain trickling down the glass bringing a calming atmosphere to the room. She closed her eyes for just a moment, her head resting against the chair.

Prince Alexander, who had been playing with his toys nearby, suddenly ran over to her side. His small hands gently tugged at her sleeve, his voice filled with concern.

"Mama, are you okay?" he asked, his blue eyes wide and serious for his age.

Amaria smiled faintly, trying to hide the exhaustion that crept across her features. "I'm just a little tired, sweetheart," she said softly, reaching down to pat his head. "Nothing to worry about."

But Alexander wasn't convinced. He crawled onto her lap, his tiny hands reaching up to stroke her cheek with an intensity that made her heart ache with love. "You're sick, Mama," he said, the words spoken with the certainty of a four-year-old who had picked up on every subtle change in the world around him. "You need to sleep."

Amaria couldn't help but chuckle softly, her hands cupping his small face. "I'm fine, little one. Really. I just need some rest."

But Prince Alexander wasn't having it. He tugged at her hand insistently, his voice now taking on a more commanding tone, like a little protector. "No! You need to lie down. You need blankets! I'll make sure you're okay."

Amaria blinked in surprise. Her heart swelled at his concern, and she found herself yielding to his persistence. "Alright, alright. You win," she said with a smile, lifting him into her arms as she rose to her feet.

The little boy led her to the bed, where he insisted on tucking her in with a blanket, making sure she was comfortable. He then climbed up beside her, resting his small head on her shoulder, his hand clutching hers. "I'll take care of you, Mama," he whispered, his innocent voice a soothing balm for Amaria's weary heart.

Amaria closed her eyes, feeling warmth spread through her chest. Her love for the little boy had grown beyond words, and now, watching him care for her in such a sweet, simple way, she was overcome with emotion. She realized, in that moment, how truly blessed she was—both with the life she now shared with King Knox and the bond she was forming with Alexander.

As the day wore on, Amaria did indeed rest, letting Alexander stay by her side, rubbing her back when she felt uncomfortable, bringing her water when she asked, and even singing softly to her as she drifted in and out of sleep. His pure love and concern comforted her in a way she hadn't known she needed.

Little did she know, though, the truth of her condition was slowly becoming clearer, though no one had yet realized. As she lay in bed, surrounded by the care of her new son, Amaria couldn't help but wonder what the future held for their small family.

And what she didn't know—what no one yet knew—was that the very thing she feared most, the pregnancy she hadn't fully embraced yet, was already taking root.

King Knox sat at his desk, surrounded by piles of documents and letters from various noble families. He had been buried in his royal duties all day, his mind focused on matters of the kingdom, ensuring everything was in order. Yet, despite his often unflappable demeanor, his thoughts kept drifting, drawn to his wife, Queen Amaria.

He had noticed how quiet and subdued she had been these past few days. Her usual warmth and vibrancy seemed to be replaced by a subtle weariness that hadn't escaped his notice. He told himself that she was just tired—perhaps the strain of adapting to royal life had finally caught up with her, but even so, a gnawing worry lingered in his chest.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when a maid entered the room, her eyes wide with concern.

"Your Majesty," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I thought you should know... The Queen, she's unwell. Prince Alexander is with her, looking after her. He's being quite persistent about it."

King Knox's heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, he pushed away the pile of documents in front of him and stood up, his mind racing. "Unwell?" he repeated, his voice low, though there was an edge of concern in his tone. "What happened to her?"

The maid hesitated for a moment before replying, "She seemed to be quite tired, Your Majesty. Prince Alexander... he's been very concerned for her. He won't leave her side."

The King nodded, his mind already shifting into action. Amaria's well-being was paramount, and no matter what his duties entailed, he couldn't focus on anything else now. He turned quickly, heading toward the door.

"Tell the royal physicians to prepare themselves," he instructed, his voice sharp with authority. "I'll see to her myself."

With that, King Knox left his chambers, walking briskly down the hall. His steps were purposeful, but there was a lingering unease beneath his composed exterior. The image of Amaria, so uncharacteristically ill, unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

As he approached her chambers, he could hear the soft murmur of his son's voice coming from inside. When he pushed open the door, he found the room much quieter than usual. There, by the bedside, was Prince Alexander, sitting close to Amaria, his small hand gently resting on her arm. His eyes were wide with concern as he watched his mother closely.

"Amaria?" King Knox's voice was low, as though testing the air.

Amaria, lying in bed with her eyes closed, slowly opened them at the sound of his voice. She gave him a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm fine, Knox," she whispered softly. "Just a little tired. Nothing to worry about."

The King's gaze shifted from her to his son, who was now standing beside the bed, holding on to Amaria's hand like a little sentinel. The sight tugged at his heart in a way he hadn't expected.

"Alexander," King Knox said, his tone softer than usual, "why don't you go outside and play for a bit? I'll stay here with your mother."

Prince Alexander hesitated for a moment, but the look in his father's eyes was enough to reassure him. With a small nod, he left the room quietly, casting a final, lingering glance at Amaria before closing the door behind him.

Once they were alone, King Knox stepped closer to the bed, his expression carefully composed. "Amaria," he said, his voice no longer cold or stern, but filled with an unexpected warmth. "You should have told me you were feeling unwell. I would have called the physicians sooner."

Amaria gave a small shake of her head, her voice weak but still filled with that quiet strength he had come to admire. "It's nothing, Knox. Just a passing illness, I'm sure." She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to push away the discomfort she was feeling, but the exhaustion was evident in her features.

King Knox stood still, watching her for a moment, his brow furrowed. He reached out, his hand gently brushing her hair away from her face, a tender gesture that seemed to surprise them both.

"I don't like seeing you like this," he admitted quietly, the usual stiffness in his tone giving way to something softer. "I want to help you, Amaria."

She opened her eyes to meet his gaze, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his words. "I know you do," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, they simply sat there in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. King Knox's mind raced, and his emotions, usually carefully guarded, were beginning to stir. He found himself torn between his role as a ruler and his growing feelings for the woman lying in front of him.

"I'll stay with you," he said, his voice more determined now. "You don't have to go through this alone."

Amaria smiled faintly, touched by the unexpected tenderness in his words. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

The King nodded, sitting by her side. He had been so focused on maintaining his distance, on keeping his emotions under control. But seeing her like this, so vulnerable, so in need of care, it was a reminder of how much his heart had changed since she had come into his life.

And as they sat there, with the quiet sounds of the palace outside the room, King Knox found himself wishing more than ever that he could protect her from all the hardships that life might throw their way.

For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to let down his guard, to simply be there for her.