“No,” he said, firmly but gently. “This is what I want. I’ll have my life of purpose, it’ll just be more flexible than I’d pictured. I’ll be able to support you in whatever role you need me to fill. I’ve never cared about the glory. I don’t mind being behind the scenes. It’s you everyone should be looking at anyway.”
She beamed up at him. Then, unable to deny herself any longer, she slid a hand down his shirt and fiddled with the first button. “What if I want to look at you?”
His grin smoldered, igniting something low in her stomach with a fiery need. “That could be arranged.”
She pushed him back, toward his office. He leaned around her to look at the folder on the floor. “Wait, the papers, we need to get them signed and sent off—” he protested.
“How much time do we have?”
“A few hours.”
She grabbed his tie and smiled. “All the time in the world, my love.”
Epilogue
This time when Simon built the treehouse, he left his rings in his wife’s care.
She glanced up at him from her spot on the lawn as she watched. “Remember to put the ladder in the middle!” she called.
He mock-glared at her and she smiled sweetly back. She was practically glowing these days, so close to her due date. He was glad he’d been able to convince her to sit out here and watch him build for a bit. Pen always liked to be at work—if he didn’t keep an eye on her, she’d probably try to climb up after him at any moment, hammer in hand—and had had a tough time taking it easy as the birth of their baby drew near. One thing that had helped her was sending Simon out as her personal ambassador in her stead more frequently, a duty he was happy to undertake, especially when his legal knowledge might come in handy.
He positioned the ladder just right and then pounded the nails in to secure it. This treehouse was a miniaturized copy of their original prototype, low to the ground and customized for toddlers. He planned to install a slide later, too. Maybe a wading pool at the bottom. Their daughter was going to have a blast with this thing. Maybe someday, he’d have a ring made for her out of one of the nails he was pounding in right now. He smiled at the thought.
A flash of motion caught his eye and he glanced up. Pen was waddling toward him, and one of the guards who were always hovering nearby darted in to try to gently convince her to sit back down. Simon smirked. He was glad he wasn’t King—if he was, they likely wouldn’t let him build this treehouse with his own hands, or at least, they’d send up a team of structural engineers to evaluate his every move. He’d have to start planning now how to sneak their little Princess out of the castle for midnight playtimes up here once she was old enough, if he wanted to avoid all the hubbub involved whenever the castle staff thought a member of the royal family might get a splinter.
“Your Majesty, perhaps a cool lemonade,” tried the guard, whose eye had started to twitch by this point, as Penelope was ignoring him completely. The Queen made a shooing motion, and the guard retreated with a fixed smile.
Simon greeted his wife with a kiss. “How are you doing?”
She winced and slung an arm beneath her belly. “I am so sick of the penguin waddle,” she admitted.
“No one makes the penguin waddle look as good as you, babe.”
She snorted. “Good, because you’re about to have to help me waddle all the way to the driveway. I am not getting in a wheelchair, I don’t care what my royal babysitters think.”
He set the hammer down and gallantly extended an arm. “Where are we going? Did I forget a meeting?” He couldn’t remember having anything scheduled for today.
“Nope. We’re going to the hospital. Your daughter is making her debut today,” Penelope said serenely.
He gawked at her. “You’re—it’s—we’re going to…”
She laughed, then winced again. “Yes. Baby time.”
He pumped a fist in the air. “Baby time!” he shouted—which, of course, had every guard in a hundred-yard radius scrambling to the Queen’s side. With judicious use of his elbows and heels—followed by polite apologies, of course—Simon made a niche for himself at his wife’s side as she was led toward the driveway.
By this time tomorrow, his little family—his home—would grow. It was time to start a whole new chapter of his life, and he couldn’t wait to see what new wonders it would hold.
End of Royal Order