Your mother had summed it up pretty quickly before she had died. Woah, sorry, that was a bit blunt. Your mother, once Duchess of Ilya had died not long after you’d broken the news of your pregnancy. Coincidence? Probably. In her words, not mine, she had said ‘he’s loved you since he could watch over you in a cradle, it’s only natural for it to end with more cradles’.

Probably the most emotion you had gotten from her in a while.

Anyway, away goes the duller tapestries of the estate for Duke of Ilya - who now was travelling with merchants - and off you were permanently to the royal palace to life alongside the man who inadvertently tied your life to his forever.

You’d always had a room in the palace, alas where would you have stayed in the summertime when you played with Ilya’s crown princes? It was as lavish as usual, silver trimmings on the wallpaper, lush comforters, and small trinkets and framed photographs from years back.

But Kitt wasn’t the same, he was working always now, and he pent up emotions like his life depended on it. It was scary at times, which had made you step in. You got him to talk to you, and you brought him back to a life a little. Days and days spent organising his office with lighthearted banter blended with some heartfelt conversations ended up with you two tangled in bedsheets together.

Oh, it had been wonderful. Like coming home, truly. A knock startles you, before the door opens. Kitt. In a fresh white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. “What are you doing in here?”

“Reminiscing.” I say with a small smile. “Oh.” He walks over and slips an arm around your waist. “Everything alright? Do you feel okay?”

You nod. You’d had all your current clothes and belongings moved to the large quarters for the King and Queen. “Do you regret it?” You cant stop the question leaving your lips.

“What?” He frowns.