The King's Next Chapter

Ch. 1: The Dawn of a New Day

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Charlotte eased out of her slumber and rolled into the cool, sunken dip George had left in bed. But his absence didn't inspire dread or concern as it once had. "That man,'' she said with a sheepish smile as she pushed back her covers. "Always hogging the baby."

She stretched in place, then took her time to roll out of the bed.

It was approaching three weeks since she'd given birth, but her body hadn't exactly caught up yet. While her bleeding had mostly subsided, she was still quite sensitive, especially across her abdomen where — under George's instruction — her doctor had helped turn Georgie from the breech position. Until that point, she'd thought labor had been torturous, but that pain eclipsed even the worst push of her life. Without George there – putting the fear of exile into her doctors – she might not have survived. Who was she kidding, she would've died.

Charlotte rang the bell for her aids to get her bathed, dressed, and presentable for the day. The warmth of the bath soothed her innermost aches. At least a little. The anticipation to reunite with her little family quieted the rest of it. As she emerged into the hall, she saw Brimsley, who bowed immediately. "Sleep well, your Majesty?"

"All things considered," Charlotte said as she started towards the nursery. "Did the nurse update you on Georgie's overnight progress?" she asked as they walked.

Brimsley nodded at once. "Yes, his majesty slept through most of the night, waking only to feed twice."

Charlotte chuckled mutedly. "Good. And the king?"

"The King took over heir's 4 am feeding and has remained in his presence since."

Charlotte smiled deeply, absorbing Brimsley's unsaid assurance. What he meant was that George hadn't descended into an episode while caring for their child. But she hadn't been worried. She may not have been a doctor, and it may not have been an exact science, but George always did better when surrounded by genuine love and affection.

And while it was true that she wasn't always able to prevent his episodes, she was often able to pull him back or at least anchor him to a safe mid-point until he found his way home. Reynolds – though they served decidedly different roles could also help calm the king. But their child, this tiny, little soul, who knew nothing of the battle his father had faced, had had the greatest effect.

Charlotte hadn't witnessed a flicker of uncertainty or unsteadiness within him since he'd stormed into her delivery room and helped deliver their child. "Good," she said. "He's ..." She stopped mid-sentence, just as they arrived at the nursery.

"Is everything okay, You Majest–"

"Hush Brimsley," Charlotte said softly, as she pressed her ear into the nursery's outer wall. Sweet melodic mumblings floated through the air, causing her heart to swell. George had become quite the songbird since Georgie was born, but he only sang when he thought she was out of earshot.

Over the past few days, she'd caught him singing about everything from wheat fields to royal rankings, to sometimes his favorite dairy cows. Most often, the stars and the heavens. Charlotte pressed a hand into her heart, then stood upright, taking a moment to compose herself. If her shy king ever found out that she'd heard his daily choruses, he'd stop.

And God, she hoped he never did.

"Wait here, Brimsley," Charlotte said as she opened the door.

Right on cue, George ceased his lullabies, mouth curling into a disturbingly handsome smile as he noted her presence.