Amy Jacqueline Cahill, Queen of the Madrigals, stormed into her bedroom in the great palace in the Himalayas.

"I cannot believe them!" she cried, throwing her hands in the air. The two men in the room looked up at her and raised their eyebrows, exchanging loaded glances.

"Despite what you all seem to think, boys, I am not an invalid, and I saw that."

"Boys?" one of the questioned, grinning. "We're what, thirty something years old? We are men, thank you very much!"

"Oh, please. You are such a child at heart, my dear." Amy waved her hand at him, and sat down at her dressing table, starting to pull pins out of her hair. "I may be nearly eight months pregnant, but that does not mean that I am suddenly incapable of running the realm." She growled, returning to her original source of irritation. "They didn't even know until five months!" Amy paused, and then started muttering very quickly under her breath in several different languages—at once.

"NO one thinks that you can't rule, love, they just want to be sure that you are taking care of yourself as well. You must admit, you tend to overlook yourself if you think that the realm needs you, love."

Amy narrowed her eyes at her husband's reflection. "Humph." Was her only response.

"It's late, love, and you do need rest…"

"All right," the other male said, grinning as he got up. "I can take a hint. I'm not welcome anymore. Good night, see you both tomorrow," he said, kissing Amy on the forehead before strolling out the door.

Amy's husband grinned. "About time," he said lightly. "Come on, Amy. Come to bed…"

Amy scowled at him, but got up to walk over to him. She slid into bed, and he promptly wrapped his arms around her.

"Sleep, love," he murmured. "I'm here."

"I know…"

They settled into silence, and soon Amy fell asleep. Her husband trailed his hand lightly over her stomach. She had said, quite firmly, that no one was to check the gender of the baby, but he had. They all had. Hell, Amy probably had as well, but he wasn't absolutely positive about that. She was quite determined, at times.

Still, practically everyone else in the Madrigal world knew that the Queen was carrying a princess daughter.

Ian smiled, kissed his wife softly, and drifted off to sleep.

His princess daughter…