Tied to the Throne

chapter fifty four

The sun was high, casting a golden light over the stone walls of the castle as I moved through the familiar corridors, my footsteps echoing lightly in the vast hallways. I was still adjusting to the quiet rhythm of everyday life in the castle, but it had become a sanctuary of sorts—a place where the world outside could feel far away, and I could just focus on being with those I loved.

Nikolai had gone off to meet with his advisors, something about a trade agreement I had half-listened to earlier in the morning. I wasn't terribly interested in the politics, but I always liked hearing him speak—he had this way of commanding attention with the calm, authoritative tone of his voice, his words always measured, deliberate. And when he spoke like that, I couldn't help but think how well he'd be as a father, even though we hadn't talked about it again since that night in our room.

Instead, I had decided to walk the castle, checking in on the staff and spending time with the people who made the place feel like home.

As I wandered through the kitchens, the smell of freshly baked bread and roasting meats filled the air. The staff bustled around, preparing for the evening meal. I leaned against the doorway, watching them work, a comfortable smile tugging at my lips. They had grown used to my visits by now, though I still heard a few murmurs of surprise whenever I walked in unannounced.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty!" one of the cooks greeted me with a cheerful bow, wiping flour from his hands. His face was always flushed from the heat of the ovens, but his grin was wide and inviting.

"Good afternoon," I replied with a smile, stepping further into the room. "It smells wonderful in here. What's for dinner tonight?"

"Roast lamb with rosemary and garlic, Your Majesty, and a honeyed cake for dessert."

My stomach rumbled at the mention of the cake. I always had a soft spot for sweet things, especially after a long day, and I couldn't help but glance at the cooling racks where the cakes were being placed.

"Sounds delicious. Maybe I'll sneak a piece later," I teased, feeling the warmth of the kitchen settle around me.

The cook chuckled. "I'll save you a slice, my Queen. Only the best for you."

I laughed and nodded, giving him a grateful look before moving on. As I walked, I passed several other staff members who greeted me warmly. The castle felt like a living, breathing thing in those moments—the laughter, the chatter, the movement. I could feel the pulse of life running through every corner of the place.

I walked through the hall to the garden next, the sight of the freshly bloomed flowers greeting me as soon as I stepped outside. The air was crisp, with just a hint of spring beginning to warm the breeze. I let the sunlight wash over me as I made my way to the stone bench under a large oak tree.

It wasn't long before Camille appeared, her figure emerging from behind the stone wall as she walked over to me. Her face was bright, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Bell!" she called out, her voice full of warmth and affection.

I grinned, standing up to meet her halfway. "Cam! You're looking well."

She gave me a tight hug, and for a moment, I was lost in the familiar scent of her lavender-scented hair.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked, her eyes flickering with concern as she pulled back to look at me. "I heard you weren't feeling well this morning."

I blinked, momentarily confused.

"Oh, no, it's nothing. Just a bit of a headache. Probably all the running around trying to run this place."

She gave me a skeptical look but didn't press it further. Camille always knew when something was off, but I wasn't ready to tell her about the possibility of a child. Not yet.

"Well, if you say so," she said, her voice light. "Still, you should rest, Bell. You've been through a lot. Let the kingdom handle itself for a while."

I shrugged, though I appreciated her concern. "I'm fine. Really. Besides, I don't mind a little extra time in the gardens. It's calming."

The conversation turned to lighter topics then, and we spent the next hour talking about everything from the upcoming harvest festival to some of the more amusing antics of the castle staff. Camille was always good at making me laugh.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, the afternoon turned golden, and I began to feel a heaviness I hadn't noticed before. A feeling that made me pause, that made me wonder if I really was imagining things. I couldn't shake the thoughts swirling in my mind. What if?

"Are you okay?" Camille asked, her voice quiet as she studied me. "You've gone quiet."

"I'm just... I'm fine," I said quickly, forcing a smile. But the concern in her gaze told me that she wasn't convinced.

I didn't want to talk about it, not yet. It wasn't the right time, and I didn't want to jinx anything. So, instead, I shifted the conversation back to her. "What about you? How have you been?"

She started talking about some new dresses she had recently acquired for an upcoming ball, her voice lively as she described the different fabrics and cuts. It was easy to get caught up in her excitement, and for a while, I managed to forget my thoughts.

But as we made our way back into the castle, passing through the entrance hall and down the long corridor, I couldn't ignore the constant ache in my chest. It was a longing, a deep-rooted desire for something that I wasn't sure was even real.

Later, when Nikolai finally returned to our chambers, he seemed just as busy as ever, caught up in the politics of ruling. I had learned not to take it personally—he had a kingdom to run—but I couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness every time I saw the weight of his responsibilities pulling at him.

Still, there was something about him that always managed to pull me in. The way his eyes softened when he looked at me, the way he would speak so gently after a long day, always making time for us, for me. He was everything I had ever wanted in a partner, and as I watched him carefully sort through the letters that had arrived while we were out, a sense of contentment settled in my chest.

I couldn't help but admire him, as I always did.

"Are you alright, Bell?" he asked suddenly, looking up from his papers. "You've been quiet all day."

I blinked, startled by the question. "I'm fine. Just tired, I suppose."

He didn't look convinced. "You've been saying that for weeks. Are you sure? If something's wrong, you can tell me."

I opened my mouth to reply but hesitated, unsure of how to put my thoughts into words. Instead, I forced a smile, brushing off the moment.

"I'm fine, really. Just a bit of a headache."

He nodded, but his gaze lingered on me, searching my face as if trying to read something I wasn't saying. But before either of us could say anything else, there was a knock at the door.

"Dinner's ready, Your Majesties," came the voice of the servant from the other side.

"Thank you," I called out, finally feeling like I could relax for a moment.

We made our way down to the dining room, the familiar warmth of the meal and the company of the staff helping to put my mind at ease. But even as we sat down to eat, there was that nagging feeling, that soft whisper in my mind.

What if?

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