You loved Daphne, and she loved you a lot more than anything in the word. Even more than her own family but they came a close second.

You officially met Daphne after the 1813 social season started, where Daphne made her debut in front of the queen, queen Charlotte, another wise know for you as your mother.

Yes, the youngest child of queen Charlotte and King George III. Daphne and her family always knew of you as the youngest, and as in 1813, the hope of making a heir for your mother.

When you got introduced to Daphne at the first seasonal ball that was thrown by the widowed lady Danbury, you fell hard. No wonder Daphne was the diamond of the season she was stunning, so stunning that you couldn't keep your eyes off her.

Daphne and you courted after a few months of knowing each other, but it was honestly the happiest day of your life and the most fun night. You two moved in together in Wales in a large beautiful Manson full of servants.

After four months of marriage the both dound out, and she was already five months. Daphne was over the moon for it. She always dreamed of having children in a loving marriage whose dream was coming true.

When she went into labour, you got worried, knowing very well that giving birth was not an easy task. You didn't even dare to leave her alone for a second. No way in hell would you do that.

In your shared bedroom, Daphne was laid on the bed her longe white nightgown covering her up as the doctor sat on a chair down by her legs as some of the servants were hovering around with wet towels warm water everything prepared.

"Alright, your highness.. You need to push as hard as you can." the doctor told Daphne, who was all sweaty, her hand tightly gripping yours as she let out a painful scream before the room filled with a baby's cries.

One of the servants wrapped the crying baby boy in a warm blanket before handing him to Daphne with a gentle smile.

Daphne was crying at the sight of the baby, her finger gently running over his tiny cheek, which caused the baby to calm down.