The morning sun filtered softly through the ornate windows of the royal bedchamber, casting a gentle glow upon the intricately woven tapestries that adorned the walls. Queen Amelie stirred beneath the silken sheets, her eyes fluttering open to the serene ambiance of the room. Beside her, King Bruno lay in peaceful slumber, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest a comforting sight. Between them, nestled in the crook of his father's arm, was Prince Louis, his tiny features relaxed in sleep.
Amelie smiled softly, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her son's forehead. The events of the previous day—the inauguration of the Central Railway Station—had left them both exhilarated and exhausted. The significance of the occasion still resonated deeply within her.
As if sensing her wakefulness, Bruno's eyes slowly opened. He turned his head to meet Amelie's gaze, a tender smile gracing his lips.
"Good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
