Epilogue
I LEANA AND A JAX V ASILIKOS were born healthy and hale and screaming their hearts out a few months later, but far earlier than either the Queen or King of Thalassos had accounted for.
Breaking their papa’s tender heart, as only their mother knew, because His Majesty Adonis Vasilikos was out of Thalassos at the time, on a scheduled trip to their neighbor Ephyra. To check up on his brother, Adamos, whose progressive blindness had completely spread over one eye.
I don’t want to leave your side for a few months after that , Adonis had said, worry etching deep lines into his face. If I check on him now, then I won’t have to feel guilty that I’m abandoning him later.
So he’d gone with Jemima’s blessing and urging, despite his brother’s protests that he “didn’t need to be coddled like a child” by either him or “the blasted queen.”
But of course, fate had other plans, as it always seemed to have where she and her husband were concerned. And she didn’t much protest it, given labor pains had consumed her. Though Adonis couldn’t muster up the same level of equanimity.
He railed and cursed at the fact that he would miss the birth of his children. Only his mother’s soft entreaty that he might upset his queen further with his own outburst had eventually calmed him.
Jemima was eternally thankful for Queen Isadora’s constant attendance, and for the fast labor and easy births at the private clinic, even as a part of her—the one that wasn’t out of its mind with pain and agony, wished it had taken longer so that Adonis could return.
Of course, the fact that her children—as temperamental as their father, had chosen a stormy night to make their sudden appearance into the world meant Adonis’s return had been delayed further.
In the end, it was two whole days before he appeared at the entrance of the large, bright room, looking as ravaged as she’d felt only two days earlier. Although it seemed he was less recovered from the ordeal than she.
Jemima scooted up on the lavish bed, hiding the grimace of pain so that she could better look at him.
Not that her wonderful husband missed it. “Are you in pain?” he whispered, his words coming as if he was speaking them through a heavy, clogged throat.
“A bit,” she said, drinking him in.
Dark shadows cradled his brilliant blue eyes, making them pop even more. His hair looked like he had taken out all his frustration and urgency at it, the thick, short waves standing up every which way.
Then there was the thick blond stubble on his jaw. He looked thoroughly disreputable and utterly gorgeous.
“Are you going to stand there forever, Your Majesty?” Jemima teased, her own stomach twisting into fresh knots. She had known, all through the pregnancy, that the birth of their children was going to affect him more emotionally than her. Now, she could see that her fears had been right.
Anguish and affection and so much more swirled in the blue depths, disbelief stretched those sculpted lips, and his nostrils flared.
“I thought you would be dying to meet them, Adonis,” she said, emotion coating her own words. She’d been so worried about his feelings and how he would process them that she hadn’t let herself acknowledge her own. “And me…” she said, speaking her heart now. A wet gurgle, not unlike her infant daughter’s, escaped her throat. “I missed you.”
“I’m angry still, agapi , that I missed it. I feel cheated.” He rubbed a hand over his face, seemed to realize he had to shave, and grimaced. “I’m not sure I should touch them with that emotion pulsing through me. I want them to know me, need me, love me so much…”
Jemima’s heart gave such a hard spasm that she had to open her mouth to draw in a breath. Tenderness and love engulfed her throat, making it several minutes before she could speak again. “Darling, one look at your face, one whisper of your heart, one touch of your rough hands, and they will know that. One glimpse into those blue eyes and they will never doubt your love, Adonis, just as I never doubt it. Ever.”
“You think?” he said, and Jemima nodded.
A long exhale left him, making his shoulders straighten out. His blue gaze swept over her and the bed. “Where are they?”
Jemima pointed to the two bassinets that were out of sight from where he stood. “Shall I call the nurses?” she asked, giving him a choice.
“No,” he bit out. Then marching to the small sink tucked into an alcove, he washed his hands, wiped them on a fresh napkin.
Jemima blinked back tears as he bent and picked up their daughter first, his movements incredibly gentle. The sight of that tiny babe in his arms made her heart thud and her ovaries—already strained to the limit, melt. At least that’s what that sensation felt like.
“She has your eyes,” he said, lifting one tiny fist to his mouth. His eyes were wide, full of awe as he took her in, a feeling Jemima knew very well. “All sharp and wide and drilling into one’s soul.”
Jemima laughed, her heart expanding to a dangerous size in her chest. It felt impossible to contain the happiness that inflated her from within. “And she has your nose, the great Vasilikos beak.”
“Remind me to tell Adamos that. He promises,” Adonis choked a little, “to be the best uncle he can be.”
“Whenever he’s ready,” Jemima said, meeting her husband’s eyes. The fact that Prince Adamos wasn’t adjusting very well to his half-blindness wasn’t altogether a surprise. Although, Jemima had a feeling it was Queen Calista that prodded and poked at him as if he were a grouchy bear. Time would only tell if Adamos would see that the young queen was exactly what he needed.
“I told him the same,” Adonis said, his smile touching his eyes.
Their baby girl cooed, and stretched and pressed her chubby fists into her papa’s angular cheeks as he brought her over. “Papa loves you, Ileana, so much.” His very heart seemed to reverberate in his words.
As if she could understand the sentiment, Ileana gave her papa a rare, toothless grin that disappeared as fast as it had come.
Adonis looked as if he had conquered the range of mountains that dotted Thalassos’s perimeter.
Leaning down, he transferred her, ever so gently, into Jemima’s waiting arms. Then when she had their beautiful little girl all secure, he captured her lips in a tender, soul-stripping kiss. The taste of him, minty and male and devastatingly familiar, flew through Jemima, bolstering her faith in them all over.
Clasping his cheek with her free hand, she leaned into his kiss, needing it as much as he did. When the kiss turned salty, Jemima realized her husband was crying. Her own eyes filled up suddenly.
“She’s perfect,” Adonis said, pulling away, one long finger grazing against the tiny head. “Just like her mama.”
Their daughter watched with saucer-like eyes while he kissed her mama again.
A wail—loud and clanging, erupted into the fraught silence, making Adonis jerk away from her. Jemima laughed at the horrified expression on his face.
“That, my darling, is your son, letting the entire palace know of his displeasure.”
“What does he need?” Adonis said, straightening with a sudden urgency.
“Either his nappy is wet or he’s hungry or he’s just generally displeased with the world,” Jemima said, still smiling. “Sometimes he’ll smile at one nurse while he glares at the other. He gets cranky with hunger but won’t drink properly. He has neither the patience nor the happy nature of his sister. Your son is going to be quite the handful, and I believe is going to need all the discipline we can manage.”
Adonis covered the ground to their son’s bassinet in quick strides. He checked Ajax’s nappy, scrunched his face, and changed it easily, as if he had done it a thousand times before.
Jemima’s breath caught in her throat. “I wish I had my phone to record it. The King changing a dirty nappy.”
Adonis lifted the infant to his chest, pride shimmering in his eyes. “I did say I would be a hands-on father, didn’t I?”
Even from the distance, Jemima could see her son’s blue gaze study his papa with the same wonder as his papa showed him. “Many men apparently make those kinds of claims.” Then before he could protest, she raised her hand. “I do agree that you’re unlike any man I’ve known, Your Majesty.”
“Exactly,” Adonis said, pressing his mouth to their son’s temple.
Ajax clearly didn’t like the stubble on his papa’s jaw for he squirmed and screamed and generally made his displeasure known. Uncowed by it, Adonis tucked him up against his chest. “And there will be no disciplining either of them, Jemima.”
“You can’t mean that?”
“I do,” Adonis said, reaching her. With easy grace, he tucked himself into the bed, by her side. “My children, even this one with his temper,” he said, kissing their son’s forehead, “are going to grow up untethered like free birds. No one is going to stop them from exploring the world, the skies, the mountains itself if they wish.”
“And if they fall?” Jemima said, heart in her throat at the wonder that was her husband, her king.
“If they fall, we will catch, Jem. But whatever they do or want, they will never doubt my love for them.”
“So I’m going to have three devils to contend with instead of one,” she said, grinning.
“Ahh…but you’re so good at leashing us, agapi mou ,” he said, leaning toward her. “I do not believe for one second that you will struggle with us three.”
There was no need to reply because Adonis took her mouth in a soft, blisteringly slow kiss that drenched her in his love.
Not that their children gave them more than two minutes to indulge in it.