While there had been some grumbling from certain older factions within the country that the king was marrying an actress and not a scion of European nobility, not to mention the short engagement period, the younger generation was almost universally thrilled. The fact that Juliana had spent her teen years in Zakhar and spoke Zakharan went a long way toward dissipating any criticism. And when the announcement was made that the new queen was retiring from acting to devote her time to her future subjects and her royal duties there was national jubilation.
* * *
National jubilation reached epic proportions ten months later when the official announcement went out on thick cream-colored stationery, hand-inscribed, and embossed in gold leaf with the royal seal of Zakhar. “Their Majesties, the King and Queen of Zakhar, are pleased to announce the birth of Crown Prince Raoul Theodore Alexei Stepan of the House of Marianescu.”
The news bulletin stated, “Her Royal Majesty Queen Juliana was safely delivered of a son at 8:27 a.m. today. Her Royal Majesty and her son, the Crown Prince, are both doing well.”
* * *
Juliana lay in her hospital bed gazing at the downy-haired baby boy in her arms, then at the man sprawled in the chair by the window, fast asleep. Maternal tenderness for both father and son made her smile. Andre had been terrified in the delivery room—determined not to betray it in front of her, but terrified all the same. Worried something would go wrong. Afraid deep down he’d lose her in childbirth the way his father had lost his mother giving birth to Mara. Not that he would say that to her. Oh no! He’d tried so hard to hide his fear, not wanting to alarm her in any way, but she knew him too well.
Her smile deepened. She’d wanted Andre with her, but it almost seemed as if she were giving him support rather than the other way around. And then, when their son was born relatively quickly and everything had gone so well, Andre had quietly fallen apart. His tears had been hot against her breast as he’d buried his head there, swearing he’d never put her through that ordeal again, his fingers desperately clutching her hands. But he will, Juliana told herself with another smile, a secret one this time. She was ecstatic over the birth of their first child—the son he needed to carry on the unbroken line of Marianescus ruling Zakhar—but she was also looking toward the future and the other children she would give him someday. Daughters as well as sons. Daughters he would love and cherish—unlike his own father—as much as his sons. Someday soon.
Andre had been ready with a list of names. He’d adamantly refused to let the doctors tell them if Juliana was carrying a boy or a girl ahead of time, but he had names for both already picked out. Raoul Theodore Alexei Stepan. Juliana had groggily listened to the string of names, understanding each choice and approving it until she came to the last one. Raoul—that was easy. Raoul was the firstborn son of the first Andre Alexei, and one of the greatest kings Zakhar had known. A good omen. Theodore—that was the masculine version of part of his beloved sister’s name, Mara Theodora, and meant divine gift, another good omen. Alexei—that was easy, too, named after himself and the first Andre Alexei.
But Stepan?
Juliana had been puzzled until Andre had explained, and then her tears had come. “When he died in the landslide I held him in my arms and closed his eyes so he would appear to merely be sleeping,” he’d confessed in a low voice. “But I could think of no words to comfort his mother other than to say Stepan was a good name for a son.” With that she had loved him anew.
“I am blessed,” she told her son quietly now. “I have you and your father. Nothing can top that, not even the success of King’s Ransom.” Her final movie had opened that summer—to a blockbuster box office and unbelievably glowing reviews—and was still going strong in the fall despite the fact that neither she nor Dirk had done any promotion for the movie at all. Of course, all the fairy-tale publicity surrounding her wedding to Andre—which had been broadcast to nearly five hundred million viewers around the world—and her subsequent pregnancy hadn’t hurt ticket sales. There was already insider buzz of Academy Award nominations.
She’d finally convinced Andre to screen King’s Ransom with her...but not until after the movie opened to the public. Not until she was about to deliver his child. As if the on-screen intimacy between Juliana and Dirk made him uncomfortable...until he could believe without a shadow of a doubt that nothing would ever separate them again.
Thoughts of Dirk and King’s Ransom reminded Juliana of her friend Sabrina and the baby daughters she’d given her husband before she died. Against all odds Linden and Laurel had not only survived, but thrived—God had answered her prayers with a resounding “Yes!” where the babies were concerned. But not with Dirk, and Juliana’s heart still ached for him.