The Royal Heir - The Valtoria Diaries 2

The Applewood rejuvenation project

The heavenly goddess that he'd woken up next to this morning deserved nothing but the very best today, and that was why, despite it being well before eight, Maxwell was already down in the Valtorian kitchen. He was personally slicing up red grapefruit, preparing fudgy chocolate waffles for three, and brewing Jen's favourite blend of tea. He even had a single red rose at the ready on the tray, of course this would be positioned dramatically between his freshly-brushed and flossed teeth as he made his reappearance into their boudoir, not before his trademark knock on the door and signature greeting of....

"Good morning, Your Grace."

Close, Chris, but not quite. "It's little blossom, actually!" He picked up the tray, winked at Christopher, and dashed past him.

"Your Grace, if I may..."

"No can do, Chris, I have a hungry pregnant lady to feed.."

"If I may, Your Grace... you'll want to see this." He was already some way down the corridor, but Maxwell knew the rustle of a tabloid newspaper when he heard one. He stopped in his tracks. Christopher was soon there to take the tray, in exchange for a copy of the Daily Apple.

After a few seconds, Maxwell wished he hadn't even looked. The front page screamed FIRST PIC OF RICK'S HEIR, with their scan pic from a few days ago plastered below the headline for everyone to see.

"How did they get this?" he muttered, to nobody in particular.

"From an undisclosed source, Your Grace."

Maxwell opened up the paper onto page three, and skim read it. It was all in there. Scan shows healthy heir cooking inside Duchess Jen's oven. And while it can't be clearly seen if a Prince or Princess is on the way, all of Cordonia will be happy to see this picture. "Wait, what? What makes them think... aaaaaaaagggghhhh!" He threw the paper across the corridor, and sank down onto the floor against the wall, hiding his face behind his knees. This was.... so many flavours of wrongness, just looking at it was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. It was supposed to be our baby first.

Christopher must have found somewhere temporary to put the breakfast tray down, because he was soon sitting in solidarity next to him, although he didn't seem to have anything to say.

Maxwell laughed, because that was just what he did, and then looked at Christopher. "That was supposed to be a private moment, just for our family."

"You know full well it is in the media's interest to find out as much as they can about the royal pregnancy," Christopher said slowly. "They care little for your privacy, I am afraid."

"Little?" He felt his fists clenching. "They care nothing for it. Christopher." He looked back across the corridor at the scan picture. "They found us in New York, in Texas, at our first scan, pretty much everywhere we tried to go in-between, and now, after our second scan.. this happens?" He got to his feet. Ugh, I feel like I'm going all Hulk smash. I'd better stay a safe distance away from Jen's breakfast.

Instead, he punched the wall. Yowch. Bad idea, that hurt. And I don't feel any better for it.

He shook his hand about, his knuckles starting to throb, while Christopher diligently smoothed down the disturbed wallpaper.

"Do they have any idea how much pressure she's under, Chris?" he sighed, running his other hand through his as-yet-untamed bedhead. "The last few weeks have been so stressful, and... this is not gonna help." He bent down to pick up the newspaper. "They're getting information from somewhere, and I want to know who's responsible!"

"I doubt you'll get anywhere calling the newspaper," Christopher pointed out. "You could see if your other press contacts have any knowledge?"

Maxwell shook his head. "If Ana or Donnie knew about this, they'd have tipped us off, so it's pointless ringing them. I guess I'll have to call you know who before she calls me.." He reached inside the non-existent pocket of his white robe. Oh. That isn't my phone.