She couldn't just walk away now.
"My son…My heir. My prince." Damien tilted the child slightly, his thumb gently stroking the swaddling fabric. Luna's eyes filled with tears at the sight of her husband, this fearsome king, brought to his knees by a tiny bundle of life.
Her heart throbbed with tenderness, her entire body aching with love. This was the miracle neither of them thought they would live to see—proof of destiny, proof of survival, proof that love, theirs, could defy gods.
"Your Majesties," Thessa began. "I would like to ask a favour."
Damien turned toward Thessa, his son still secure in his arms, while Luna instinctively stepped closer, her hand brushing the baby's cheek as if unwilling to part with even a fraction of the contact.
"I would like to be the heir's personal doctor. I could come in once a week to check on him, ensure nothing lingers unseen." Her eyes darted between them.
