Felix and Lior’s Princeling

I recommend reading this flash fic* after finishing Felix and the Prince. Enjoy!

*Flash Fiction prompt suggested by Lair members Sheena J Himes and Sarah Townsend, among many others!

Felix

I stared down at the tiny little human raisin. He was so frail and beautiful. I couldn’t stop staring.

“It’s too much,” I murmured. “The weight of a name like that will tip the poor kid over.”

Hen scoffed. “Oh please. He can handle it. He’s a Wilde.”

Lio snapped his head around and glared at his sister. “I beg your pardon. He’s the heir to the Grimaldi throne.”

She shrugged. “He’s half-Grimaldi and half-Wilde. Here’s hoping the Wilde part dominates.”

Lio glanced at me and his entire expression softened. “You have a point. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

My heart did it’s usual ka-thunk when Lio looked at me like that. Like I was the sun and he lived to bask in my warmth. It never got old.

“Can we at least not call him Harald? Ever?”

I looked back down at our son, the product of my cousin Winnie’s egg and Lio’s sperm, incubated for the past nine months inside of the healthy womb of one of Lio and Hen’s distant cousins. Sophie had given us the most amazing gift ever. She’d taken such good care of him, stayed healthy throughout the pregnancy, and had invited us to every single appointment with her.

I looked over at where she lay sprawled on the giant bed in her suite in the castle. She’d insisted on nursing him for at least the first couple of weeks even though her own two kids were at home begging for their mother to return from “making Uncle Felix and Lior’s baby.”

“All I have to do is flip a boob out from time-to-time and let the royal servants wait on me hand and food for two weeks? Sign me up,” she’d said with a sigh, sinking into the luxurious feather bed.

She currently slurped some kind of fruit smoothie she’d instructed the kitchen to make for her. The “I gave birth to the future king and all I got was this lousy T-shirt” shirt she wore stretched across her giant boobs. I was desperate to take a Sharpie to the shirt and add “and a summer home on the Riviera” to the bottom of the shirt, but Lio suggested that would be in poor taste.

“No Harald,” Lio agreed. “But it has to stay in the name for reasons. Howabout calling him Chris? That’s very American-sounding.”

I looked down at his tiny face. Christien Triannon Felix William Weston Harald Grimaldi of Liorland stared back at me with his startlingly blue eyes. “I can’t stand it,” I whispered. “How is it possible to love someone this much?”

Lio’s voice was as reverent as I felt. “It’s easy.”

I glanced up at him, but instead of looking at the baby, he was gazing at me again.

How was this my life? It just kept getting better and better.