Luna's POV
***
The first time I felt the baby move, I thought I had imagined it.
It was late, the castle bathed in silver moonlight as I lay curled beneath the heavy blankets of our bed. Rhydian was beside me, his breathing slow and even in sleep, his warmth a steady presence against my back.
Then, there it was.
A faint flutter.
Like the brush of butterfly wings, soft and delicate, yet unmistakably real.
I froze, my breath caught in my throat.
Had it really happened?
For weeks, I had known that life was growing inside me. I had heard the words from the royal healer, seen the barely-there curve of my belly when I stood before the mirror. But this—this was different.
This was real.
Tentatively, I placed a hand over my stomach, waiting. Hoping.
And then—another movement. A tiny, fleeting shift beneath my palm.
I let out a quiet gasp, my heart hammering.
"Rhydian," I whispered, reaching for him instinctively.
He stirred immediately, years of being a warrior making him hyper-aware of even the slightest disturbance. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, found mine in the dim light. "Luna?" His voice was rough, concerned.
I grabbed his hand and pressed it against my belly. "The baby—"
Before I could finish, the movement came again, stronger this time.
Rhydian went completely still.
And then, as if the realization finally sank in, his expression shattered into something I had never seen before—pure, unfiltered wonder.
"Luna…" His voice was barely more than a breath.
I watched as emotions flickered across his face—shock, joy, something achingly tender that made my throat tighten. His fingers trembled slightly as he pressed them more firmly against my stomach, waiting, hoping.
Another shift.
A spark of life.
I had seen Rhydian in battle. I had seen him lead an army with unshakable strength, face down enemies without a hint of fear.
But now, in this moment, he looked at me as if I held the entire universe in my hands.
His golden eyes, so often fierce and untamed, softened as he exhaled shakily. "That's our child."
A lump formed in my throat. I nodded, unable to speak past the overwhelming wave of emotion.
Then, slowly, a smile broke across his face—the kind that stole my breath, the kind that only I ever got to see.
Without another word, he shifted, pressing his lips to my stomach.
I felt the warmth of his breath as he whispered, "Hello, little one."
From that night on, everything changed.
If I had thought Rhydian was protective before, it was nothing compared to now.
He hovered constantly, his sharp gaze tracking my every movement as if I might suddenly crumble into dust before his eyes. At first, it was endearing—sweet, even.
But then he started taking it too far.
One morning, I was descending the main staircase when I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me.
"Luna!"
Before I could react, Rhydian was there, moving faster than I thought humanly possible. In one swift motion, he scooped me into his arms.
I yelped, gripping his shoulders in shock. "What are you—"
"You shouldn't be walking down the stairs alone," he said, his voice firm.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
He was already carrying me down, as if I weighed nothing. "It's dangerous. What if you trip?"
I stared at him, torn between exasperation and amusement. "I've been walking down stairs my entire life."
"Yes," he said, completely serious, "but not while pregnant."
I groaned. "Rhydian—"
"This isn't up for debate."
"Oh my gods." I buried my face in his shoulder. "You're impossible."
"I'm careful," he corrected. "Which you should appreciate, considering I'm doing this for you."
I lifted my head, glaring at him. "If you don't put me down right now, I swear I will—"
"You'll what?" he challenged, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Outrun me?"
I opened my mouth—then shut it. Damn him. He knew I couldn't.
Defeated, I huffed. "Fine. But if you ever do this in front of the court, I will personally murder you."
He grinned. "Duly noted."
Despite his overprotectiveness, I found myself talking to our baby more and more.
It was a habit that started without me realizing it.
At first, it was small things—a whispered thought here, a passing comment there.
Then, one afternoon, as I sat in the castle gardens, feeling the gentle breeze against my skin, I placed my hands over my belly and murmured, "You know, your father is completely ridiculous."
A tiny movement pressed against my palm.
I smiled. "I mean it. He treats me like I'm made of glass. I'm surprised he hasn't banned me from walking altogether."
Another flutter.
I laughed softly. "You agree, don't you?"
The baby kicked again.
My heart swelled, warmth filling my chest.
I let out a breath, leaning back against the garden bench. "I wonder who you'll be," I mused. "Will you have his golden eyes? Or mine? Will you be stubborn like him, or…" I hesitated, a pang of uncertainty settling in my chest. "Or like me?"
A lump formed in my throat.
I wanted so much for this child. A life filled with love, with peace—something neither Rhydian nor I had ever truly known growing up.
I closed my eyes. "I don't know if I'll be a good mother," I admitted softly. "But I promise I'll try. I promise I'll love you more than anything in this world."
And as if in response, the baby kicked again—stronger this time.
My breath caught.
Maybe, just maybe, they already knew.
That night, as the moon hung high in the sky, Rhydian pressed his palm to my belly, his expression impossibly tender.
"You're so small," he murmured, brushing his thumb over my skin.
I arched a brow. "Are you talking to me or the baby?"
He smirked. "Both."
I rolled my eyes, but any retort I had faded the moment he leaned down, resting his forehead against me.
For a long time, he just stayed there, silent. Then, in a voice so soft I almost didn't hear it, he whispered, "I love you."
I felt my chest tighten. "I love you too."
He shook his head slightly, his eyes still closed. "Not just you."
My breath hitched.
He opened his eyes then, looking up at me with so much devotion it nearly unraveled me completely.
"I love both of you," he murmured.
Something inside me cracked wide open.
I reached for him, pulling him to me, and in that moment, beneath the quiet glow of the moon, I knew—no matter what lay ahead, no matter the fears that still lingered in the corners of my mind—
We were never alone.