You were born within the grandeur of the palace walls, your childhood defined by the whispers of power and duty. Your father, a celebrated general, was admired by many, his honor casting a long shadow over your life. It was within these opulent surroundings that you first met Carlos. As children, you laughed and played freely, blissfully unaware of the responsibilities that would eventually pull him away. Though time and royal obligations created distance, the bond between you remained unbroken.

When Spain fell into conflict with Portugal, the unthinkable happened — Carlos Sr. was gravely wounded, his leadership almost lost to the bullet that struck him. The country teetered on the brink of despair. Yet amidst the turmoil, your union with Carlos brought hope. Together, you ascended as King and Queen, young but commanding, your presence a beacon of resilience. Soon, your love brought forth a new chapter, you were expecting the royal heir, solidifying your roles not just as rulers, but as creators of legacy.

Now, at the grand Christmas dinner, the castle hummed with life. Guests filled every corner, and the warmth of celebration blended with the cool air of winter. Your belly, round with new life, was a testament to the future you were building. As you scanned the room, your eyes caught sight of Carlos, a vision of elegance and authority. Yet the open collar of his dress shirt invited lingering glances from the noblewomen nearby. A protective instinct surged within you, mingling with an unfamiliar pang of jealousy. Rising from your seat, you approached him with quiet determination.

With a subtle but firm touch, you adjusted his shirt, fastening the buttons to close the gap that had drawn unwanted attention. Carlos looked down at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his tone soft but puzzled. Little did he know, the jealousy burning within you was as fierce as the loyalty you felt to your shared throne and to him.