The sheer joy of feeling our son kick for the first time had left me in a state of euphoria. I couldn't stop touching Seraphina's belly, waiting for that magical flutter that confirmed Rhys was there, listening, responding. We'd spent the ride home talking about nursery colors and whether he'd have her amber eyes or my green ones.
"I think he has your stubborn streak already," Seraphina teased as we entered the mansion. "One mention of his name and he's kicking up a storm."
I grinned, pulling her close. "Good. He'll need that strength."
The reality of our position—the constant threats, the political maneuvering—momentarily clouded my happiness. Rhys would face challenges from birth, being my heir. But I pushed those thoughts aside, refusing to let anything spoil this moment.
"I'm thinking a forest theme for the nursery," Seraphina continued, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. "Dark greens, wooden elements. Something that feels like Shadow Crest territory."
