The Royal Heir - The Valtoria Diaries 2

Trust those instincts

The press articles had started appearing on Jen's news feed pretty early the morning after the gala. On arrival in Valtoria that lunchtime, Christopher had met her and Maxwell with a grim expression and several different tabloids. The announcement of the betrothal date had been too late for the printed headlines, but the papers seemed to agree on one thing. Princess Annabelle appears sickly and pale at Red Apple Gala. Questions posed over whether heir is thriving. Royal doctors must have raised concerns. Is Duchess Jen doing too much?

Dr Ramirez was already due to perform a check-up on Bella that very afternoon. To Jen's despair, she confirmed the concerns of the media were founded. Bella wasn't following her centile line when it came to her weight; based on her birthweight she should now be at least eleven pounds, but she was just approaching nine.

Jen had seen this coming; but she'd been telling herself she wasn't giving up on breastfeeding Bella until advised to do so by someone in the medical profession, rather than well-meaning friends and family. And while she couldn't fault Maxwell for his supportiveness in recent weeks, even he had developed an irksome habit of leaving notes from his book research lying around when it came to feeding choices and growth patterns. She'd bitten her tongue when he'd innocently claimed to have left them by her feeding chair or on the side of her bed on accident. She knew he was only trying to help, but he was perhaps the one person in her life who understood and accepted how stubborn she could be.

And she was glad he'd been at her side today, listening to what Dr Ramirez had to say, chipping in with his own considerate thoughts on the matter and being sympathetic and supportive, never judgemental. The decision was made between the three of them that they would switch to exclusive formula feeding. And while there were definitely benefits to that decision for Jen, it really stung; a contrast to how she'd always pictured herself as a natural mother.

Maybe she had been doing too much. All these balls, tours, galas, foreign trips over the last month. She'd not had the chance to meet with other mothers and babies to see how Bella was coping compared to her peers. Maybe she'd let Bella down with all the stress and upheaval of the days since her birth. Or maybe her body just wasn't capable of doing what it needed to do? Whatever, she was feeling like a bit of a failure of a mother at the moment, and as she settled Bella with one last snuggle at the end of the day, she was in tears. Our daughter deserves so much better.

She did her best to compose herself as she laid her sleepy girl down in her crib. With a heavy sigh, she crept out of Bella's nursery after turning off the light. She intended to take an early night, perhaps take a long bath and catch up with some reading while Maxwell was busy working on his book. So when she heard soft, lilting guitar music floating towards her along the corridor, she was a little surprised.

As If hypnotised, she followed the sweet sound along the corridor, and into their bedroom, where she found an audience of corgis surrounding her husband. He was sitting cross-legged, barefoot and topless on their bed, concentrating on what he was playing; Jen knew he found it hard to multitask on singing and playing at the same time, and his mouth opened ready to sing once his final spectator was in place.

"Well I'm gonna dance like nobody's watching, I'm gonna sing like nobody's listening, I'm gonna kiss you like we're all alone, cause this world is ours."

She beamed, wondering if he had written this song, as it seemed so appropriate to him, to them, to what she needed to hear right now.

"Let's party in the supermarket, move to the rhythm of my heartbeat, I'll take my tie right off my neck and wear it tied up round my head."