______
Lucina
Some time later
A sudden, high-pitched wail echoed from the intricately carved golden crib.
"WAAAH!"
I instinctively adjusted the tiny, crying form in my arms. "Don't cry, little one," I cooed softly, rocking the baby gently. The scent of sweet jasmine and fresh linen filled the air of the royal nursery, mingling with the faint, lingering warmth of the morning sun.
Just then, my trusted attendant, Elina, entered. "Did Alvaro wake up again?" she asked, concern etched on her face. "Would you like me to hold him?"
I looked down at the second prince, whose face was already calming. His silvery-white hair and delicate features, so like my own, made my heart swell. "No, I think he's gone back to sleep," I whispered, carefully lowering him back into the crib. Elina nodded. "You're right."
I sighed contentedly as I watched the three cribs lined up against the sun-drenched wall.
"The princes are so intriguing," Elina mused, stepping closer to observe the sleeping trio.
I smiled, my eyes crinkling at the corners. "Why?"
She clasped her hands over her chest, her expression earnest. "I was so surprised when I heard you were having triplets, but when I look closely, I can see that…" She paused, leaning in slightly.
"...The First Prince takes after His Majesty the King."
I followed her gaze to the far crib. There lay Julien, the First Prince, with his dark, rich hair and golden-brown skin. He snored softly, a tiny hand tucked under his cheek, a picture of rugged, regal potential.
"...The Second Prince takes after my Lady…"
Next to him slept Alvaro, the Second Prince. He was a miniature version of me, with snow-white hair and a serene expression, murmuring a soft, comfortable "Mmm…"
"...And the Third Prince takes after the Cardinal."
Finally, we looked at Remy, the Third Prince. He had a shock of pale golden hair and rosy cheeks, looking utterly angelic as he slept, tiny "zzz"s escaping his mouth.
"They're all so cute as well!" Elina gushed, unable to hold back a delighted giggle.
I felt a warmth spread through me, a profound connection to the three unique lives I had brought into the world. "Now that you mention it," I said, my voice filled with tenderness, "I can really see the resemblance."
---
Later, I sat before the gilded vanity, my long, silver-white hair flowing over the rose-colored silk of my gown. Elina, whom I affectionately called Titi, was carefully brushing the tangles out of my hair, her movements meticulous yet gentle.
"Yes, you're right," I murmured, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
"You look a bit tired, My Lady." Her tone was soft, betraying her concern.
I sighed, the heavy gold crown of motherhood resting on my brow, invisible but ever-present. "Well, foreign delegates have been visiting nonstop since the princes were born…"
Titi's expression crumpled, a dramatic, adorable frown settling on her face. "My Lady, I feel for you…" she whispered. Her concern was genuine, almost tearful.
"You have your hands full looking after Her Highness the Princess and Their Highnesses the Princes…" She continued, her voice trembling slightly. "And spend all your free time meeting foreign delegates…"
I watched as she furiously pulled out my most radiant clothes and jewels. She rustled through the closet, pulling out shimmering silks, and rattled open the drawer holding the royal jewelry.
A sudden burst of fiery, intense determination erupted from her, making me laugh. "All I can do for you…" she declared with fierce resolve, "is make you look so pretty that no one notices how worn out you are!"
"I'm happy with something simple," I assured her, still chuckling at her passion. My simple request, however, seemed to spark a new, more challenging ambition in Titi.
"Grumble, grumble," she muttered under her breath as she began applying a touch of color to my eyelids. "It's harder to do a simple makeup look because you're so pretty!"
"Thank you, Titi," I said, meeting her gaze with a small, grateful smile.
She finished her work, and I looked at my reflection. Despite the heavy weariness weighing on my bones, my eyes were bright and framed by delicate lashes.
"It's a bit difficult and tiring…" I thought, the exhaustion catching up on me for a moment. I let my eyes drift closed, savoring the peaceful moment before the day's duties began.
"…But I'm so happy," I concluded, opening my eyes to find my own happy smile reflected back.
A little later, I sat on the great throne alongside the King, my daughter perched beside me, impatiently kicking her legs back and forth.
"How much longer do we have to wait, Mommy?" she asked, nudging my arm.
I gently patted her head. "Just a bit longer, they said they might be late." The demands of royalty were constant, but seeing my family beside me made every tiresome meeting worthwhile.
---
I sat upon the jewel-encrusted throne of Tayar, a heavy but familiar weight. My daughter, Martha, was perched beside me, swinging her legs impatiently. The King, my husband, sat on the other throne, his imposing presence lending gravitas to the hall.
Martha nudged my arm, her impatience bubbling over. "How much longer do we have to wait, Mommy?" she whined.
I gently patted her cheek. "Just a bit longer," I soothed. "They said they might be late."
Her face crumpled into a childish pout. "But I'm bored! And hungry!"
"Keep your voice down, Martha!" I whispered, a gentle warning in my tone. The King added, his voice low and firm, "As a princess, you need to get used to this."
A moment later, the great doors of the audience chamber creaked open.
"His Majesty, the King of Brion, is here!"
The King of Brion, a handsome, silver-haired man in a crisp uniform, stepped forward and executed a deep, respectful bow.
"Congratulations on giving birth to three beautiful boys, Your Majesty," he said, his voice carrying clearly in the hall.
I offered him a welcoming smile. My husband rose to greet him. "Thank you for coming all this way," the King said. "I heard that the situation in Brion has improved considerably since you took to the throne."
The King of Brion placed a hand over his chest. "It's all thanks to the support and assistance of your kingdom," he acknowledged, sincere gratitude in his eyes. "I will never forget this debt."
He then turned his attention to my daughter, Martha, who stood by my side. "It has been a while, Princess," he greeted her warmly.
Martha performed a small, practiced curtsy. "It's a pleasure to see you, Your Majesty," she replied, managing to sound every bit the well-trained royal she was.
The King of Brion smiled, then indicated a younger boy who had entered the room with him. "Oh, there's someone I want to introduce. This is my son."
The young Prince of Brion, with neat silver hair and formal attire, bowed low to us. "It's an honor to meet the King and Queen of Tayar," he said respectfully.
The diplomatic meeting had begun.
My husband gave the King of Brion a firm nod. "Welcome to our kingdom. I hope you enjoy your stay here."
I offered my own soft, welcoming smile to the young Prince. "You've come a long way to see us, Prince," I said.
The King of Brion encouraged his son. "You should greet the Princess as well, Martha."
I watched as my daughter, usually bold and unflinching, was suddenly shy in the solemn formality of the room. I gently encouraged her. She lifted her head, and an infectious, beaming smile lit up her face.
"It's nice to meet you," she said brightly, extending a small, ungloved hand toward the young man.
The Prince of Brion took her hand, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he shook it. "It's nice to meet you too, Princess…" he replied, his voice slightly hesitant.
After the brief exchange, the King of Brion bowed to us again. "Then I'll see you later, Your Majesty." He and his entourage, including the young Prince, then departed, the great doors clacking shut behind them.
The diplomatic meeting had concluded for now. The intense formality of the event had drained me, but the thought of a little quiet time with my family offered a soothing relief.
The silence of the large audience chamber was broken a few minutes later when a different set of golden doors burst open with a loud CLACK!
In the doorway stood a very familiar, and very disgruntled, figure—a young boy with reddish-brown hair and tiny fox-like ears, accompanied by his enormous, imposing father.
"Can I finally see Martha now?" the boy demanded, his eyes searching the room with fierce intensity.
His father, the imposing presence known as the Dragon King's Cardinal, looked down at him with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Do you want to see her that much?"
"I do," the boy insisted, taking a resolute step forward. "She sent me a letter saying we'd catch snakes together."
I pressed my lips together to stifle a laugh. Of course Martha had promised such a thing.
The boy, whom I knew as Avery, the young dragon of the North, then saw the departing Prince of Brion. He stared intensely at the sight of the other boy, who was still making his way down the long, red carpet. The Prince of Brion looked back, briefly meeting Avery's gaze.
Avery's expression instantly turned suspicious and furious, his energy flaring around him with a barely contained BZZZT of magic.
"Huh?" he spat out, his small hands clenching into fists.
The Prince of Brion simply looked straight ahead, his composed demeanor unchanged. "It is an honor," he said to one of his retainers, and continued on his way, leaving Avery simmering in a state of sudden, unexplained rivalry.
I exchanged a knowing glance with my husband. It seemed our daughter had a talent for attracting interesting attention.
This brings the narrative fully up to the point of your passage, without continuing beyond it.
Avery, the young dragon, was still radiating furious energy, his small form bristling with suspicion.
"It's the King of Brion!" I heard a voice whisper from his entourage.
"What are you looking at?" Avery demanded, glaring intensely at the Prince of Brion.
The Prince stopped and turned, his polite facade cracking slightly under the sudden confrontation. "What?" he asked coolly.
"You looked at me funny first!" Avery yelled, his temper flaring, the red aura around him practically visible.
The Prince's composure was unnerving. "I just happened to glance over because you were being so noisy," he stated calmly, though his eyes held a subtle spark of challenge. "Kids who like to pick a fight."
That was all it took.
A howl of indignation erupted from Avery. A flurry of motion followed, a blur of small fists and shoves. WHACK! THWACK!
"Did you just hit me?!" the Prince cried out, rubbing his cheek where Avery had clearly connected.
"You hit me first!" Avery retorted, giving him a hard shove.
The adults instantly descended into chaos. The King of Brion looked aghast, a panicked "S-Son?!" escaping his lips. Martha, meanwhile, simply let out an amused giggle.
The Cardinal, Avery's father, simply stood there, a wry smile on his face as he watched the unfolding disaster. "Kids make friends so quickly these days!" he chuckled, seemingly unconcerned.
The other adults quickly moved in, trying to physically separate the two warring boys.
Avery, still struggling against his father's hold, shouted his claim. "Martha's going to play with me!"
The Prince, equally determined despite his bruised dignity, shot back, "I'll escort Martha!"
From the sidelines, Martha, completely unfazed by the violence waged over her, cheered. "Then let's do this!" She struck a triumphant pose. "TA-DA!"
Hours later, the sun had set, and the chaos had subsided. I was resting in my private quarters, having finally changed out of the heavy formal wear. My husband, Hakan, walked in, his long hair damp from a bath, wearing only a loose robe.
"Good work today, I," he said, walking over to me.
"You too, Hakan," I replied, appreciating the quiet intimacy of the moment.
He settled down next to me, his presence solid and comforting.
"I saw something funny when I went on a walk with Martha, Avery, and the young Prince of Brion today," I said, a smile playing on my lips.
"What happened?" Hakan asked, leaning in.
I chuckled softly, recalling the ridiculous brawl that had broken out in the middle of the throne room. "Well…" I began, ready to recount the tale of the two fiercely territorial boys and their coveted Princess.
"Well," I said, leaning closer to Hakan, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "The Prince of Brion and Avery went out for a walk with Martha after the audience, and I went along just to observe. Avery was still furious after the Prince of Brion called him 'kids who like to pick a fight,' and the Prince was clearly nursing a grudge from Avery hitting him."
Hakan chuckled, a rich, deep sound. "So, they continued their little turf war?"
"Oh, it was terrible," I said, though a genuine smile lit up my face. "Avery kept shouting, 'Martha's going to play with me!' while the Prince of Brion insisted, 'I'll escort Martha!' Martha, of course, was delighted by the attention and declared, 'Then let's do this!' I think the best part was when she exclaimed, 'We can all hold hands!' while they both had hearts practically bursting out of their chests! It really does seem like they've both fallen head over heels for our Martha!"
Hakan threw his head back and laughed. "I guess they've both fallen head over heels for our Martha," he agreed, shaking his head.
He glanced around the quiet room, an unusual silence hanging in the air. "I don't hear the princes nearby," he observed, pulling me gently to stand by the balcony.
I smiled up at him, knowing he was used to the background chorus of three crying triplets. "I left them with Titi today."
"You've been inseparable from them recently," he noted, his tone curious. "What made you change your mind?"
I leaned into his broad, bare chest, appreciating the warmth. "I feel bad for asking her to look after them since there are three of them."
He smoothed a lock of my white hair from my face, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. "But…" he began, his voice deepening as he slid his hand down to my shoulder. "I wanted to spend some time alone with you tonight."
I could feel the powerful rhythm of his heart against my ear, a strong, steady beat. He pulled me closer, his eyes dark with devotion.
"No, I want you so badly, but I don't want to wear you out anymore," he whispered, concern clouding his gaze as he took my hands.
I leaned back, giving him a confident look, resting my hand over his heart. "I'm fine, Hakan." My own heart answered his with a gentle thump. The exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by the simple, profound happiness of being near him.
Hakan laughed, a warm, resonant sound in the quiet chamber. "I guess they've both fallen head over heels for our Martha," he said, confirming my tale of the two young, feuding princes.
He glanced around, suddenly noticing the stillness. "I don't hear the princes nearby," he noted.
"I left them with Titi today," I explained with a small, contented smile.
Hakan gently caressed my hair, his touch light but grounding. "You've been inseparable from them recently. What made you change your mind?"
"I feel bad for asking her to look after them since there are three of them," I admitted, before adding, "…But…"
His hand slid along my jaw, his thumb tracing my lower lip as he continued, "…I wanted to spend some time alone with you tonight."
He drew me closer, turning me fully toward him.
"No," he said softly, his voice full of concern. "I want you so badly, but I don't want to wear you out anymore." He took my hands and squeezed them gently.
I leaned into him, resting my head against his broad shoulder. "I'm fine, Hakan."
My heart gave a heavy THUMP. The weariness of the day vanished under his touch.
I pulled back just enough to look into his intense, dark eyes. "I would quite like to have at least one more daughter…" I confessed, my eyes sparkling with a renewed, hopeful dream.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he sprang from his seat and gently maneuvered me onto the bed with a soft FLOP. A sigh escaped his lips.
He leaned over me, his gaze dark and possessive. "You started this, I."
I looked up at him, my heart overflowing. "I know. It's what I want."