Just as the last contraction passed, her screams were joined by another. A baby's precious, first breath of air being exhaled as the most beautiful sound America had ever heard in her life.

"Open your eyes, Ames." Maxon's smiling, tearful voice said from somewhere near her ear.

She was so overwhelmed, her body must have closed her eyes without her noticing, trying to block out some of the information overloading her brain.

America pried her eyes open and saw Dr. Ashlar, standing at the end of the bed, holding up a gooey, pink, squalling baby girl. "Oh my God…"

Dr. Ashlar saw the recognition on America's face, and he beamed back and forth between America and Maxon. "It's a girl. Congratulations, America, you have a daughter."

America sobbed, some mixture of joy and relief. Her muscles were unclenching, slowly relaxing, and she let herself collapse back onto the bed beneath her. "That's my baby?" She knew it was, it just seemed so impossible. A few seconds ago, she'd been drowning in an endless ocean of pain and heat, physically unable to get enough oxygen. Now, Dr. Ashlar was holding up a baby girl and telling America that she'd done it. She'd survived labor and given birth. She had a baby daughter to show for all of her troubles.

Maxon laughed, still gripping her hand for dear life. He lowered himself down and pressed a kiss to her lips, "It's a girl."

America laughed, tears leaking down her cheeks. "We have a girl."

"I'm a dad!" Maxon laughed loudly, wiping tears away from his own eyes and leaning up, looking at the doctor and nurse excitedly. "That's my daughter!"

Dr. Ashlar was growing misty-eyed, too, standing there, holding the brand new infant. He met Maxon's joyous laughter with some of his own. It was hitting the good doctor that he was currently holding his future queen, and he just couldn't contain his happiness. "Well, Dad, would you like to cut the cord?" Dr. Ashlar asked, using the moniker Maxon had just assigned himself.

"Yes, please!" Maxon rasped as awe overtook him, and he gently lowered America's knee to a resting position. He pressed a kiss to her hand before releasing it and setting it, just as gently, onto the mattress beside her. "Be right back." he promised.

America melted even farther into the mattress, watching Maxon accept a pair of shining silver medical scissors from Nurse Catherine.

"She's got a healthy set lungs, doesn't she?" Dr. Ashlar chuckled as the tiny baby continued to scream in his large hands.

Maxon pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead, their daughter's first kiss, and then held up the scissors. America focused on catching her breath and memorizing this moment as Nurse Catherine showed Maxon where to cut, and Maxon proudly cut the baby free from the cord still connecting her to her mother's body.

"Well done." Dr. Ashlar beamed at the young king, and then carefully handed the baby over to the nurse. "Nurse Catherine is going to get our young princess all cleaned up, over on the changing table." he explained.

"You can help me, if you'd like." Nurse Catherine smiled, leading the way. Maxon picked up the camera from the overnight bag he'd put together, to be brought to the birthing suite by Justin once America went into labor, and turned it on. America's heart was still hammering in her chest from the exertion of labor when Maxon clicked the first photograph of their baby girl.

"How are you feeling, America?" Dr. Ashlar asked, returning his attention to her.

"Fine." America's arms were shaking, but she lifted her hands to wipe away the tears on her cheeks anyway.

"She's beautiful." Dr. Ashlar grinned.

"I know. I've never…" America's voice trembled, and she tried again to explain. "I've never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life."

Dr. Ashlar chuckled and nodded his understanding, "You did very well, America. I'm so proud of you. I know it got especially difficult at the end, it always does, but you kept focused and you didn't give up. You should be really proud of yourself, too."

"Thank you. I am. I've never done anything this amazing before."

"You're going to have another soft, little contraction or two. Your body needs to expel the placenta, but it shouldn't be too painful. At worst, a pinching sensation, alright?"

"Nothing is too painful compared to what I just went through, I'm not worried." America sniffed, tears still falling from her eyes, and Dr. Ashlar laughed in agreement.

Maxon had handed the camera off to Nurse Catherine now so that he could soothingly wipe the baby clean, using what looked like a soft, damp washcloth.

America kept her eyes glued to Maxon, the nurse, and the baby while Dr. Ashlar tended her. Just as Maxon finished giving the baby her first cleaning and brought her up to his chest to cradle, Dr. Ashlar disposed of the placenta and declared that America had very healthy vital stats. He joined Maxon and led him over to a table scale where the baby would be weighed and measured. Maxon got his camera ready, again.

Nurse Catherine had a new, clean washcloth and a smile on her face when she came over to America's bedside. "I saw your awe-inspiring inner-strength again today, your Majesty." She began gently wiping down America's thighs and legs. The cloth was warm and left a much-needed sensation of cleanliness everywhere it touched. "I saw it first when his Majesty was unconscious and you pulled yourself back from the brink of an anxiety attack. And I saw it again, today, as you pushed your way through those contractions."

"I had help both times." America reminded her, her voice soft compared to the cries of her baby. "You and Officer Weaver got me through the panic attack, and I'd have been lost without Maxon today."

"You did the brunt of the work both times. You must give yourself credit, your Majesty." Nurse Catherine reminded her with a smile, setting aside the used washcloth and picking up a fresh one. She gently rubbed down America's arms, chest, and neck. "How's that? Feeling better?"

"Much."

"Good." She gently lifted America's legs and then removed some absorbent paper that Dr. Ashlar had placed there, which had caught all of the blood and mess from the birth. America couldn't remember when the paper had been placed there, but she had been completely numb and focused on breathing through the pressure of contractions for a while. It could have easily escaped her notice then.

Beneath that paper was the rest of the clean, soft sheet America was laying on. Nurse Catherine helped America move up in the bed so that she could stretch her legs out without her feet hanging off the end, and then began unsnapping America's hospital gown. The gown was attached with metal snaps where there would ordinarily have been seams, and this allowed the nurse to removed the sweaty, dirty garment without America having to get up and lift her arms to be undressed. Nurse Catherine tugged the hospital blanket up to cover America's chest. "Do you need anything else?"

"I'm sort of… cold." America confessed.

"Of course. That's normal, you're in shock." the nurse said, sympathetically.

That explained the shaking. Nurse Catherine crossed over to the linen closet and pulled out two thick, fluffy blankets. She cocooned the old blanket under America's sides, then added the new blankets on top.

"Thank you, that's much better." America sighed, already warmer but no less trembly.

"Congratulations, again." Nurse Catherine smiled, before gathering up all of the used washcloths and messy trash, and carrying it out of the now spotless room.

"Seven pounds, four ounces." Dr. Ashlar announced, intentionally loud enough so that America could hear him over the crying. "Eighteen inches long. She's little, but she's responsive. I'll be running lots of tests on her over the next few days, but for now, I have no reason not to declare her medically healthy."

Maxon let out a laugh that sounded almost like a holler of joy, setting aside his camera to cuddle his daughter again. "Healthy." He said the word like he'd never heard of anything so wonderful before.

Dr. Ashlar gently placed a hand on Maxon's shoulder, which caught America's attention. He'd known not to clap down, not to pat Maxon on the back. She wondered if the doctor had treated Maxon's wounds at some point in his childhood, before Maxon got his own box of medical supplies, or else maybe he'd come across the scars during some other type of examination. Either way, he somehow knew to avoid triggering those painful memories of Clarkson at a moment like this, as Maxon held his minutes-old daughter, and America was so grateful.

"Come. Let's put a diaper on that baby and get her to her mother." Dr. Ashlar grinned, and Maxon smiled over at him.

"You'll tell me how, won't you? I've never done this before." Maxon nervously wheezed a laugh as Dr. Ashlar led him back to the changing table and released his shoulder.

"It's not hard. Here. Can you tell which side is the front?" Dr. Ashlar held up one of the unspeakably tiny diapers and rotated it.

"Um… I think it's this one." Maxon nodded, since both of his hands were supporting his newborn.

"That's right." Dr. Ashlar nodded. "See? No problem. Just stretch it out, lay it down, and put your baby on it." He coached Maxon through the diapering with the air of a proud father. When they were done, Dr. Ashlar lifted the baby girl up and turned to America. "Now that he knows what he's doing, he can change all the diapers from here on out."

Maxon laughed and America smiled weakly and swallowed to clear the lump in her throat at the sight of her baby wearing its first little diaper. "The clean ones are the easy part, it's the dirty ones that are tricky." she said, drawing from her experience assisting her mother when Gerad had been in diapers.

"Well, we'll get him trained up soon enough, won't we?" Dr. Ashlar grinned between them. The baby was quieter now, but still fussing, making noises of discontent. "America, how are you feeling?" Dr. Ashlar asked.

"I… I don't know where to begin." she admitted, lamely. She was feeling everything. The better question would be, how wasn't she feeling.

"Any outstanding pain, any dizziness?"

"No. Just shaking."

"That'll fade away soon." Dr. Ashlar smiled, coming back to America's bedside. Maxon seemed to sense what was about to happen and lifted his camera, readying it. "I'm going to place your daughter on your chest now, skin-to-skin. The next hour is your time with her, America. You and she will lay here, together, and she'll listen to your heartbeat and soak in your familiar warmth. You've both got post-birth hormones surging through you right now, and we're going to take advantage of those to give you some bonding time. They'll start to wear away in about an hour or so, and she'll be ready for feeding, and passing around to the rest of your eager family, but for now, she's all yours."

America gulped, nervous and eager and breathless and exhausted. She hadn't known that this would be happening, but she now fully-expected the next sixty minutes to be the best hour of her life. "Thank you."

Dr. Ashlar lowered the baby close enough that America could kiss her little cheek, then slipped the baby under the blankets. He took a moment to find the perfect position for the baby to rest, then tucked America and her infant in so that they'd stay nice and warm during this bonding hour. "Comfortable?"

America couldn't speak. She had her daughter, lying on her chest, wrapped up in her arms. She burst into tears again.

Dr. Ashlar smiled, sympathetically, and adjusted the hospital bed so that it was at the perfect angle. Not so high that America had to hold the baby up, but not so low that she had to tuck her chin all the way down just to see the top of the baby's head. "I'll be back in an hour to check in." Dr. Ashlar bowed to all three of them, and left.

Maxon was grinning behind his camera, but he finally lowered it and joined America on the edge of her bed. "Tissue?"

"Please." America nodded.

Maxon mopped up her face and wiped her nose, tossing the tissue into the waste bin and then stretching out on the bed beside her, lying on his side. The baby's little face was turned toward him.

"She's perfect."

"I know." America breathed. "I had no idea… I never knew I could love like this."

"I know what exactly you mean."

"It's amazing, isn't it? That humans have this… incredible capacity?"

"It's a wonder." Maxon agreed, then he paused, looking up. "Did you hear that?"

"What?" America was completely occupied by her baby.

"I think… I heard thunder." Maxon grinned, hurrying over to the window to see. Sure enough, he pulled back one of the thick curtains, and there were raindrops splashing hard against he window. "Ames, it's raining."

America made some mixture of a laugh and sob, all of it blissful. It had rained on the day she'd realized that she was in love with Maxon Schreave. Now it was raining for the birth of their baby, the physical culmination of that love. "It's perfect." America sobbed.

Maxon hurried back over to her bedside, smiling widely, joy radiating from his entire body. "Look at what you made, Ames."

"We made."

"You did the hard part." Maxon chuckled. "I can't believe it. She's here, and she's stunning. Her skin is so soft and flawless, and look at that tiny nose!" Maxon smiled, and pressed a kiss to said tiny nose. "You did such a good job, Ames, you made a perfect baby on your first attempt!"

America laughed and gently stroked the baby's arm with her thumb. "Thank you, Maxon."

Their daughter was growing quieter now, listening to Maxon and America speak, and the soft sound of rain on the windows.

"I think she's soothed by our voices." Maxon smiled, gently massaging the baby's back with his hand.

"That's not what I remember. I distinctly remember a squirming, hyper baby whenever she heard your voice."

Maxon grinned down, memorizing the features of that brand new face, so like his own and like America's at the same time. "She needs to rest up a little, then she'll start dancing again whenever she hears me talking."

"Are you tired, little one?" America asked, speaking directly to her daughter for the first time. "Was being born hard work?"

As if responding to the question, the baby lazily yawned and scrunched up her little face. A moment later, she strained her eyelids open for the very first time.

Maxon and America both gasped, and Maxon moved closer, so that he was nose to nose with the baby. "Hello, my love. Hello. You've just opened your eyes, can you tell? Can you see me? I'm the colorful blob right in front of you, it's me. It's Daddy."

Exhausted from the effort, the baby's eyes drifted closed again.

America felt hot tears on her cheeks again. Maxon lifted his face to grin up at her.

"I just… I love that you were the first thing she ever saw." America said, simply.

Maxon beamed back at her, "Happy?"

"So happy." America nodded.

"Tired?"

America laughed, "So tired. But I don't want to sleep yet. I want to stay awake as long as I can, and be with her."

"Alright." Maxon agreed, settling back down. He brushed a finger across the baby's forehead, "You should cry some more, little love. You need to help keep Mommy awake."

America peered up at him, studying Maxon's face closely. When he met her gaze, she nodded her head a little to get him to lean in closer. Maxon eagerly obeyed, and when he was close enough, America gave him a long, subdued, lingering kiss.

"I'm so proud of you." Maxon remarked. "I'm so, so very proud."

"I love you, Maxon."

"I love you, America."

"I love you, baby girl." America smiled down at the infant on her chest.

"I love you, too, sweet baby girl." Maxon added, resisting the urge to take another photograph. He forced himself to stay close, to stay present, to preserve this special, precious moment with his girls for as long as he possibly could. He didn't leave the bed until the whole hour was up.

When Doctor Ashlar and Nurse Catherine returned at the end of the hour, America and the baby both got a quick checkup and were deemed perfectly healthy. As such, Nurse Catherine began coaching America in how to breastfeed the baby, and Maxon went out to join the rest of the family at dinner. He took his camera to show them all of the new pictures.

It took a little while for the baby to catch on to what was happening, but when she finally did latch on, feeding her was amazing. Strange and a little painful, yes, but absolutely amazing. America had never felt more powerful, more sufficient, than she was feeling that day. She was enough to bring a brand new life into this world, and she was enough to sustain it until it could eat for itself. She was enough. It was a joyous discovery to make.

The baby didn't eat much, and Nurse Catherine explained that there would probably need to be another feeding again, soon, as the baby got more and more used to milk. Then she showed America how to keep air bubbles from causing gastrointestinal pain in the baby by patting her little back gently. America cuddled her baby daughter, patting her back, until she heard a tiny burp.

America giggled, "Silvia will have you broken of that habit very quickly, my princess. Your Uncle Gerad will be proud, though…"

Maxon poked his head through the door, grinning from ear to ear. "How did she do?"

"Her appetite is still developing." Nurse Catherine stood and curtseyed. "If you need help when you feed her again, feel free to send for me, your Majesty."

"Thank you, Cat, I will." America smiled, and Nurse Catherine excused herself.

"Well? Do you think she's ready for visitors?" Maxon asked, eagerly.

"I think so." America said, pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter's head. "Swaddle her up and then you can take her out."

"You wouldn't rather your family come in here?" Maxon asked.

"I'm… naked under these blankets." America shivered.

"Yes, I know." Maxon grinned appreciatively. Then he sobered up and took the baby from her, "How are you feeling?"

"Just tired."

"If you were dressed, would you feel up for visitors?"

"So long as they don't mind my falling asleep in the middle of their visit."

"Good. Perfect. Because there's someone out in the hall who is waiting to see you. I asked her here first."

"Who is it?" America asked, looking between Maxon and the door.

"You can come in!" Maxon called, and the baby squawked in disapproval before settling back down, instantly.

The door to America's maternity suite opened and Mary stood, nervously, in the doorway. She had several garments on her arm, and was pushing a cart full of the most delicious-smelling food America had ever had the pleasure of scenting.

"Your Majesty." Mary beamed, curtseying just barely.

"Mary!" America opened her arms wide and Mary came rushing over, setting aside the clothes and leaving the food behind.

"How are you?" Mary asked, as she squeezed America gently.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"I'm so proud of you." Mary sniffled, pulling back to look America over. "You were so strong! I've never seen determination like that."

America smiled, "I was fighting for someone pretty special." She nodded toward Maxon's arms, and Maxon came over, lowering the baby from his chest so that Mary could get a good look.

"Oh, hello! Hello, little one." Mary cried, softly. "You are so beautiful…"

"Perhaps you could help me swaddle her?" Maxon asked. "I've never done this before, and I don't want her freezing, now that she's away from her mother's warm skin."

Mary wiped her face and laughed, happily, "It would be such an honor. Of course, I'll show you how to wrap this baby up perfectly."

"Excellent." Maxon beamed. "And while you teach me, Ames will dig in." he left the baby in Mary's amazed and loving embrace, and pushed the food closer to America. "Dr. Ashlar says that if you're ready to eat, you should go for it."

"Oh, I'm ready." America nodded, eagerly. "I'm somehow even hungrier than I was when I was pregnant. I think it's because of the breastfeeding."

"And the giving birth to the Illéan heir." Maxon nodded, wisely. "And the contractions being so bad, you had to skip lunch."

"Mmm." America nodded, grimly.

"There's salad, there's lean cut steak, there's mashed potatoes—"

"Give me, mine!" America patted her lap and Maxon wheeled over the little desk that would hang over her bed and hold her tray steady for her.

"The chef also prepared a special strawberry tart, just for you."

"I'm ready!" America licked her lips eagerly.

"I've brought you some ice water." Maxon sat the glass on her desk. "You should stay hydrated, my love."

"Food."

"I'm getting to it." Maxon chuckled. "Here you are." he set a napkin in her lap, then served the dinner to her and kissed her on the forehead. She was already two enormous mouthfuls of salad into her meal. "You must say if you want anything else, right, my love?"

"Right." America nodded, cheeks full.

It was quite the dinner show that America was treated to.

Mary demonstrated the proper way to swaddle the baby in the soft, sweet-scented baby blanket that once had been Maxon's. Then, when she was done, she unwrapped the baby and let Maxon try, gently correcting him when he missed a step. By his third attempt, he was a professional baby-swaddler. He gently tugged a tiny hat onto their tiny baby's tiny head, and then cuddled up with her in the corner.

While America finished her well-earned dinner, Mary showed her the two new garments she was carrying. One was for now, a loose-fitting, low-cut dress made of soft, creamy material that America actually groaned on touching for the first time. It was in lieu of hospital gowns, something comfortable and simple to wear around the family and to sleep in. It even had a few buttons on the front to make breastfeeding easier.

The next was a beautiful, pale blue, long sleeved gown fit for a Queen.

"Mary, it's breathtaking."

"I made it to your measurements before the baby came, but I can already see you're smaller." Mary grinned. "It won't be a difficult adjustment, don't worry."

America sipped her water to clear her throat of the heavenly mashed potatoes she'd been eating. "But… I don't understand, what's it for? I'm not going to the Christmas ball this year."

Mary looked to Maxon, who peeked up from his baby girl, surprised. "Oh… Well, it's… we should talk about this." Maxon sat up straight. "Gavril has reminded me that it is customary for the King and Queen to present their babies to the Kingdom the morning after they're born. All we have to do is go out to the front steps, wave, let them see the baby. I might answer a few questions, or else perhaps read from a prepared statement… I haven't decided yet. You don't have to say a word, Love, you just stand there and hold your daughter."

"Maxon." America frowned, setting aside her utensils and scowling. "I don't want to go out in front of a bunch of cameras the morning after giving birth. I want to sleep and kiss our daughter's face, and then sleep some more."

"I know, my love. It'll only be for a few minutes. Honestly, the people are so excited."

"But Maxon… my whole body hurts." America objected.

"I'll wheel you to the front door myself, my love." Maxon promised. "Please? I know you've already done so much for me, you've given me a family… but Ames, this is a rite of passage for us… my mother did it, and so did my grandmother…"

This had been the right thing to say. If Amberly had done this, and done it well, then America would try her hardest, too.

"Alright." she relented. "But you owe me." she didn't mean it, and Maxon could tell.

He chuckled, "What'll it be?"

America considered it as she continued her dinner. Finally she decided, "You're changing all the diapers tonight, and you're doing at least one of the feedings while I sleep."

Maxon laughed, "How will I feed her, my love? I lack your stunning assets."

America grinned, "Marlee gave me an impressive gift, Maxon, a pump. I can pump milk into a bottle before I sleep and you can use that bottle when the baby gets hungry."

Maxon looked down to the infant in his arms, completely in love. "That sounds wonderful, I shall cherish the opportunity."

America forced herself to roll her eyes at her husband's sappiness, but she knew he genuinely meant it. That was the thing about Maxon, he was so naturally eloquent that he could unintentionally melt a girl's heart without a moment's notice. Her only defense was to pretend to be exasperated, but that only rarely worked. The truth was, Maxon had America totally enraptured, and it would only be a matter of time before he won over their daughter, too.

The summer shower poured itself out and dissipated as America ate. When she was done with dinner (and the delicious dessert), Maxon left her with the baby and went out to rally the family. Mary cleared away the dishes and then helped America slowly to her feet.

Every muscle in her body was sore, and her whole midsection ached, but her brand new baby was making the cutest little gurgling noises in her hospital bassinet, so the pain hardly bothered America at all.

Mary helped America into the comfortable new dress, and America admired the way her stomach seemed to have deflated since the baby was born. It was like one of Gerad's punctured soccer balls. Mary helped America back into bed and then brushed and knotted her hair back so that it would be out of the way and comfortable for the rest of the night, while still looking nice for the deluge of photographs they both knew Maxon would be taking.

Mary cuddled the baby one more time, then returned her to her mother's arms, and left to tell the family that the Queen and Princess were ready for visitors.

America was expecting the whole family at once, or maybe just May at first, since she did claim the right to hold the baby first. But when the door to the birthing suite opened Maxon appeared with a little red-headed girl on his hip, clinging to him like a baby koala bear. Kenna and James were right behind, hands locked tightly.

"Do you see the baby?" Maxon asked Astra, encouragingly.

Astra scrunched up her nose a little, uncertainly.

"Oh, Ames…" Kenna sobbed, lifting her free hand to cover her mouth. "She's beautiful."

"Maxon told you she's a girl?" America guessed.

"Yes, and before that, Dr. Ashlar showed us the framed announcement, right before he went out and posted it."

"The what?"

James laughed, "You're the only person in the entire world who hasn't seen the announcement, Ames. Here." He turned to the television, which had been off ever since the amendment had been formally signed, and pressed the power button. There was a view of the Palace, lit up now because the winter sun had set. And then the frame changed and a view of the Palace steps was shown. At the very front was a long, framed, official document. America struggled to read the words, and she spoke them aloud to make sure she didn't misunderstand one of them. "On this day, the Eleventh of December, at 6:18 pm, Her Majesty Queen America Singer Schreave was delivered of a healthy baby girl weighing seven pounds, four ounces and being eighteen inches in length. The above is so witnessed by…" America blinked at the looping signatures. "Who?"

"Dr. Ashlar, Nurse Catherine, and Stavros." Maxon explained, adjusting Astra on his hip.

"But Stavros didn't witness anything."

Maxon shrugged, "It's more of a ceremonial thing."

America nodded and returned her attention to the television. The evening broadcasters were covering local celebrations throughout all of Illéa, and fantasizing about the royal family's appearance on the steps of the Palace the next morning.

"Um." Astra was pointing now. "That's too small to be my baby cousin." She was worried.

"She's the right size." Maxon promised, carrying Astra over to America's bedside to get a better look. "That whole baby was in Aunt Ames' tummy, can you believe that?"

Astra shook her head. She didn't believe it.

The baby made a grunting, discontent sound, and America instinctively began rocking her just a little. The baby settled down instantly.

"Is she cute, Astra?" Maxon asked.

Astra studied the baby in front of her. "…Yes… She is very cute." Astra allowed.

"I think so, too. Would you like to sit by Aunt Ames so that you can see the baby closer?"

"No, I want to stay with you."

"Okay." Maxon nodded, willing to do things at Astra's pace.

"So," America said, looking around the room. "Where's everyone else?"

"They're out there. I managed to convince May to switch places in line with Astra, because Astra is already up past her bedtime." Maxon explained.

The baby cried out once, just once, and then settled.

Kenna chuckled at the identical, bewildered expressions on America's and Astra's faces. "The baby is just testing out her new voice and lungs. Learning how things effect other things. She just learned that if she exhales air like that, a loud sound will happen.

"She is learning?" Astra asked.

"Mhmm."

"Oh, look, Astra." America said, gently. "I think she's going to open her eyes again."

Astra reluctantly agreed, by giving Maxon a little nod, to be deposited on the bed next to America. She peered at the baby in her aunt's lap, cautiously.

Sure enough, the baby's eyes slowly opened to reveal the dark blue eyes underneath.

"Hello, my love." America smiled.

Astra waved.

America giggled, and continued talking to the baby, "Remember your cousin? You used to play lots of games with her."

"Oh, yeah!" Astra remembered, relaxing slightly. "If I put my hand on, you will kick it!"

"That's right. If she put her hand on my tummy, you would kick the spot where you felt her."

The baby yawned, her tiny pink tongue poking out for a moment.

Astra giggled, "She's sleepy."

"Yes. She's had a long day."

"When is that baby's bedtime?" Astra was warming up, getting used to the idea of the baby in her Aunt's lap.

"She's so small, her bedtime is whenever she can sleep." America said. "When she gets bigger, she won't need to sleep so much, but for now, she has a lot of growing to do, so she needs a lot of sleep."

"We can have the same nap time and I can share my blanket with her." Astra offered.

James grinned. He and Kenna were now seated, curled up together, on a little sofa by the far wall. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Bug."

"Yes, I think that sounds great." America nodded.

"Aunt Ames, your belly is still big. You got more babies?"

"Nope, just this one." America said, grinning at her tiny bundle of baby.

"Why is your tummy still big?" Astra asked.

"It's just stretched out." America answered. "It's all stretched from being the baby's home for the last nine months, but it will shrink back down again, now that the baby is out."

"In nine months?" Astra asked, working to make things sensible and balanced.

"I hope so, that would be nice." America nodded.

"Oh, um, Aunt Ames, that baby is a princess?" Astra asked.

"Yes, she is. Just like you."

"Where… um, where is her thing? Her thing that says it?"

It took a moment for the grownups in the room to understand, Maxon got there first, "The thing that says 'This baby is a princess'? Like you got on your birthday?"

"Yeah."

"Well… It's on the Palace steps." Maxon pointed to the screen. "See? Everyone's looking at it right now so they'll know that the new baby princess is born."

"Oh."

That was a good save, America thought. Astra's sign was just a little thing to make her title feel official to her, something Maxon and America had invented for her. The baby's sign was an actual, official historical document.

"Would you like to hold her?" America asked, as the baby's eyes drifted closed again.

"I can?" Astra asked, nervously.

"Of course you can. Get comfortable…"

Astra wiggled in place.

"Make sure to leave this part of your arm under her head, because right now her head is still too heavy for her neck to hold up. She has to exercise, to get stronger."

Astra nodded, and bit her lip, focusing on her task as America gently laid the baby in her arms. America heard several clicks, and glanced up to find Maxon with a camera pointed right at them.

"Wow." Astra breathed, as the baby settled into her arms. "I like her."

"You do?" Maxon asked, happily.

"Yes, she is my favorite." It was quite a turn around from the nervousness Astra had been feeling just a couple of minutes before. Astra lowered her lips to the baby's forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to her brow. "What are her name?"

"We haven't decided what her name is, yet." Maxon said, meeting America's eyes, sharing a smile.

"Her name can be 'Cutie'." Astra suggested.

"Princess Cutie?" Maxon clarified.

"Yes. That looks like her." Astra nodded. Everyone around her laughed, but Astra was being completely sincere. She sighed, contentedly, and leaned against America's side. "I love her."

"I'm so glad." Maxon smiled. "We're going to be spending a lot of time with her, now that she's on our team."

"She's my best new friend." Astra marveled.

"You're going to be such a good big cousin, Astra. You're going to teach her so much." Maxon grinned.

"I can teach her 'ABC' and '123', I can count way high, plus I also know a 'millan'."

"Well, we'll get started tomorrow, once the baby has rested up and gotten her brand new name. What do you think?" Maxon asked.

"I will like that very much." Astra hugged the baby tighter to her chest, and the baby squirmed but did not complain. Astra kissed her little face again.

America brushed a hand through Astra's red hair, "Should we let your mommy and daddy have a turn holding her now? They've been very patient, and you can hold her again tomorrow."

Astra frowned, "I will miss her."

"She won't be far." America promised.

"Okay… but I think that baby likes it when I hold her."

"I think so, too." America nodded. "I think she loves you very much."

Astra whimpered, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Are you sad, Astra?" Maxon asked.

"No, Mackin, I'm happy."

America laughed and hugged Astra tightly to her side. "I've cried a lot of happy tears today, too. I know just how you feel."

"I'm glad she came outside today." Astra said. "I'm up after bedtime AND I got extra dessert. Kile's daddy and me and Kile made some cupcakes for you, but you have to wait for tomorrow to eat them because I can't have any more this close to sleeping."

"That was very nice of you, to think of me."

"They will help you feel better tomorrow."

"I can't wait to share some with you." America smiled.

"Here, Daddy, you can hold my sister now." Astra said.

James and Maxon shared a look, "Um, Bug…" James said, standing. "The baby is your cousin, not your sister."

"No, I want her to be my sister."

"Sisters have the same mommy and daddy as you have. The baby has a different mommy and daddy, she's your cousin." James explained.

Astra pouted and shook her head, looking down at the girl. "No, I love her too much, I can be her sister."

"Well…" Kenna said, "Aunt Ames and Uncle Maxon are technically your godparents, according to our wills… I suppose that could make the baby your god-sister."

Astra bit her lip. "She is. She is my cousin-sister-of-my-heart!"

Maxon tried not to laugh, "How… um, How do you know she's your cousin-sister-of-your-heart?"

"Because I can feel it." Astra said, simply.

Maxon grinned and groaned at the cuteness, sweeping the baby into one arm, and Astra up into the other. "I love you both so much."

"I know." Astra said, and pecked Maxon on the cheek.

"A squillion and five." Maxon grinned.

"That's the biggest number in the world, baby." Astra instructed her new cousin.

"Here you go, James. Meet your brand new niece." Maxon said, handing the baby to James.

Here was another amazing moment. While Maxon, Kenna, and Astra continued chattering, America watched as James carefully cradled the baby in his arms, eyes locked on her tiny face. James cooed and bounced, entertaining the baby, and after a minute, the room fell silent enough to overhear what James was murmuring.

"Hello… I'm your Uncle James… How are you doing, small one? Do you know how much we love you? Do you know that you're going to grow up, big and strong and smart and beautiful, and I'm going to help you learn how to swim and fly a kite and make the best stew in all of Illéa? What's stew, you ask? Well, it's ten times better than milk, I can promise you that. And what's a kite? It's a magical, flying thing that you're going to love. And what's swimming? Only the most fun you can possibly have on a summer night, that's what. You and I are going to be best friends, small one, I can already tell. We're going to have such adventures…" James realized he was being overheard and paused.

Maxon grinned over and squeezed Astra tightly, "Being an uncle to a niece is a wonderful thing."

James nodded, overwhelmed. "I have a sidekick, now. Just like you and Astra."

America and Kenna were trying very hard not to audibly 'Awww' at their husbands and daughters. Kenna climbed into bed with America and hugged her gently.

"Good job." she whispered.

They stayed like that, America and Kenna curled up on the bed, Astra and the baby in their uncles' arms, until another knock came at the door. Mary popped her head inside. "Your Majesty, Adviser Fadaye has asked me to inform you all that the fireworks will be starting soon. You'll have a good view out the windows here, and they'll be televised as well."

Maxon thanked her and she left. "I forgot about the fireworks."

"I didn't." James grinned. "This is the best part about getting a new royal baby."

"Give me this." Maxon said, taking the baby from James, "And tell the others to get in here so they can see."

"Yes, sir." James bowed facetiously, but hurried off to obey. Maxon sat Astra down on the couch and then deposited the baby in Kenna's eager arms, before going to each of the four tall windows in the room and drawing the thick curtains back so that the night outside could be clearly seen.

A moment later, the door opened and James reappeared, along with May, Magda, Gerad, and Marlee. May rushed over to America's bedside and climbed onto the foot of the bed. "Give me!"

Kenna rolled her eyes, "I just got her, May."

"You're her nanny, you're going to get to hold her all the time."

Kenna cast an annoyed look at May, kissed the baby's head, then passed her over to her other aunt.

"Hello, my sunshine!" May cooed, pulling the baby in close. "I've waited a long time for this moment. I'm your Aunt May, I'm the awesome aunt… You better not be sleeping through our introduction… Oh, well. You are incredibly small, I suppose you need your rest." May paused, then looked up at America. "You did it, Ames. You had a baby."

"I know." America grinned.

"She's so beyond perfect, I can't even stand it. She's stunning, and she's the heir to a great Kingdom, thanks to you."

"Maxon helped." America objected.

May shrugged. "There wouldn't have been anything to help if it wasn't for you. How did you know? How did you know you were having a girl?"

"I didn't. It wasn't about what gender the baby was, for me. When I first brought up the amendment to Maxon, I wasn't even pregnant yet. All I wanted was to make things fair for my children, no matter what order they were born in. If I'd had a boy first, at least his sisters wouldn't be traded to other countries for political alliances. If I had a girl first, she could… inherit the throne, one day." America said, letting her eyes fall to the tiny face emerging from the soft blanket cocoon.

"Well, I still think you're amazing." May said.

"She is." Maxon agreed.

"Maybe you instinctively knew, like you saw the future somehow." May proposed.

America rolled her eyes and cuddled up against Kenna, much too tired for May's exuberance.

Gerad climbed on to the foot of the bed, too, and peered over May's shoulder. "I think she looks like you, Ames."

"Yeah?"

"Will her eyes stay blue?"

"Probably not." Maxon frowned. "Baby's eyes usually get darker over their first six months, as they develop. They almost never get lighter, and the baby's eyes are already too dark to be America's blue. They might be my father's blue, but more likely they're going to be brown, like mine, or possibly the same shade of dark grey as my mother's."

"It would be nice to see Amberly's eyes again." America remarked, and Maxon nodded, solemnly.

Outside, they heard the first pop of a firework in the sky.

Astra gasped and rushed to press her nose against one of the windows. Her father joined her, scooping her up so that they could be cheek-to-cheek. "It's pink!" Astra exclaimed.

Maxon smiled and hurried to America's side. He pressed a kiss to her lips. "Congratulations, Love. The whole world is celebrating the birth of your daughter."

"I'm fairly certain the celebration is because she's your daughter, your royal husbandness." America giggled.

"Ah, well." Maxon shrugged. "She's our daughter, and the entire nation has tomorrow as a national holiday to celebrate."

"Wow… this is like a fairytale." America realized.

"That's right!" James exclaimed, suddenly remembering. "No work tomorrow, baby girl."

"You don't have work tomorrow, Daddy?" Astra grinned.

"Nope. It's a holiday to celebrate your cousin-sister-of-your-heart. "James smirked. The other Singers looked confused at this, but Maxon laughed heartily.

"Good! We will go swimming inside." Astra said. "We can bring the baby."

"Not yet, Pumpkin head." Maxon said. "The baby needs to get a little bigger before we take her to the pool. Her brand new, soft skin isn't ready for chlorine, and her nose wouldn't like the smell, either."

"Oh. Okay, just us then, Daddy."

"Sounds amazing, Astra." James grinned.

The fireworks continued popping over the Palace, most of them visible from America's windows. The television showed a view from the sky, looking down at the Palace as the pink explosions crackled, bright and beautiful, against the black December sky. There was also a view of the streets of Angeles, crowded with cheering revelers.

"It's all for you." May said, to the baby in her arms. "You are a powerful little girl, already."

It was true, America realized. Their baby was set to inherit the throne to one of the world's largest countries, for no reason other than that she was brought into this world as Maxon's daughter, a few hours after Maxon signed a law allowing her to take the throne. If she'd been born a few hours earlier, or to anyone else, she'd have had a normal life. But the sky was lit up pink tonight, and the whole world was cheering for the birth of this baby, and everyone would be watching every single moment of America's daughter's life, putting it all in the context of 'This is the future Queen of Illéa' and 'Is she really good enough to be the future Queen of Illéa?'

Magda blew her nose loudly in the corner. "I remember this day… the last time it happened. I remember the day you were born, Maxon. There were rumors all day long, but no one knew if your mother had truly gone into labor or if it was just hopeful thinking on our part. We were tired of waiting around for you, you were almost a week over your due date. Your mother was on bedrest, so she was probably one who wanted you born more than we did. And then the announcement was posted on the Palace steps. Queen Amberly Station Schreave was delivered of a healthy baby boy… I think we celebrated for a whole week. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined that the next time an announcement like that would be posted on the Palace steps, it would be for my grandchild. My granddaughter…" she sniffled and blew her nose again.

Maxon hugged Magda close, and then stole the baby from May to give to her.

"There she is." Maxon said to Magda, as she cuddled her granddaughter for the first time. "She's going to be smart and strong like her mother and grandmother." he winked.

"She'll be graceful and compassionate like her Grandmother Amberly." Magda said.

"I hope so." Maxon agreed. "I hope I find some of Mother in her, somehow."

"I know you will. She's such a part of you, Maxon," Magda said, seriously. "And you're going to pass that on to your baby. Traits of your mother's that you've inherited might be hard for you to see in yourself, but once you've passed them on and they start appearing in your daughter, you'll see them plain as day. I don't know if that makes sense—"

"It does. Thank you." Maxon smiled.

Magda kissed Maxon's cheek and took the baby to the window to show her the pink sky. After a few more minutes, the show was over. James turned off the television and asked Astra if she wanted to hug anyone goodnight.

In a blatant ploy to avoid bedtime, Astra hugged and kissed every person in the room, including Marlee, and made an enormous show telling each individual person that she would see them in the morning.

"Alright, you little turkey." James laughed, as Astra started trying to go around the room for another round of hugs. "I'm cutting you off. Let's go, we'll all be together again for breakfast in the morning, okay?"

Astra was still calling out 'Goodnight—' when James picked her up, swung her over his shoulder, and carried her giggling body out the door and around the corner, disappearing from sight.

The rest of the family stayed a little longer. Gerad took a turn holding his new niece and May took another turn, snuggling the princess closely. Marlee finally got her turn, and cried and cooed, and kissed the baby, remarking that Maxon's Selection had been "totally worth the trouble and pain" now that this baby was born.

America cried again, on hearing those words from Marlee's mouth. No one had suffered more than Marlee and Carter during Maxon's Selection.

Finally, America couldn't contain her yawns anymore. Magda pressed a kiss to America's forehead and then ordered everyone out of the room so that the new mother could get some much-needed sleep.

Before she left, Marlee pointedly pulled a copy of the naming dictionary she and Carter had used to find Kile's name, out of her bag. She placed it at America's bedside without saying a word, then she kissed America and the baby and flounced out of the room.

America sighed, heavily, as silence descended on the room.

"Sleep, Ames."

"I'm not done yet." America said. "I have a present for you."

"I have one for you, too." Maxon grinned. "But you're just too tired, for now. Let's get a little sleep, okay?"

"Mhmm…" America was already drifting off. Maxon flipped the light switch on the wall and cool darkness covered the room. America curled into her soft blankets as Maxon pressed the button that caused her bed to recline. She was asleep before the bed was even flat.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed before America woke up. She slept hard, deeply, and the next thing she was really aware of, she heard discontent baby sounds, and humming.

Maxon's voice humming.

Maxon's voice humming Shalom Singer's lullaby song.

America blinked her heavy eyelids open and squinted in the darkness to find her husband standing shirtless, with their naked (except for the diaper) baby carefully pressed to his bare, firm chest as he hummed. The baby was oscillating between being soothed and being grumpy, but Maxon just kept humming.

America struggled to sit up, wincing at the soreness in her muscles, and her motion caught Maxon's attention. "I think she's hungry, Love."

"Ah." America tried not to let her eyes linger on Maxon's well-defined abs for longer than was decent, but Maxon still noticed her gaping and grinned at her.

"I pacified her for as long as I could, but there's only so much I can do." he said, bringing the baby over. "I told her an abridged version of our love story, of how you came to my Selection and we fell in love, I tried to set it up as a fairytale, you know, as her first ever bedtime story? But she wouldn't go back to sleep. So then I tried to distract her with your father's song…"

"I'm sorry, Maxon, I fell asleep before I could make you that bottle, didn't I?"

"Not to worry. I'm happy to feed her anytime, not just tonight. Whenever you get around to making bottles, I'll be happy to feed her with them. You've been busy." Maxon smiled. "Here. Do you need Nurse Catherine to help?"

"I don't think so." America said, gingerly unbuttoning the front of her dress. America was grateful, now, that she didn't have to take the whole dress off. The baby latched on almost as soon as America took her from Maxon, and America squirmed uncomfortably as the baby drank, hungrily. She supposed she'd get used to the strange sensation soon enough.

"She kept making this adorable little face." Maxon said. "That's what let me know she was fussy because she was hungry, as opposed to some other reason."

"What little face?"

"See if she'll make it now, if you pull away." Maxon suggested, lifting the bed up so that America could sit back against it. "I won't do it justice if I try to reenact it."

America held the baby out, and the baby complained noisily before turning her head in the direction of America's body and puckering her lips open and closed, trying to suck milk out of thin air.

"Aww, poor baby." America giggled, pulling her close again and returning the flow of nourishment.

"She made that face for about twenty minutes before you woke up. I was trying to buy you a little more time for sleeping, Love."

"Thank you. Did you get any rest?"

"About an hour, and then our baby bird started chirping."

"Chirping?"

"Well, making those baby noises she makes and doing that thing with her mouth that baby birds do to tell their mothers that they're hungry."

America giggled, "She does look like a baby bird when she does that, doesn't she?" America soothingly brushed a knuckle along the baby's face, from cheekbone to jaw, over and over. "Our own little baby bird." They fell into comfortable silence, Maxon crawling into bed with her and almost drifting back to sleep, watching his girls.

"I want an 'A' name for her." Maxon announced.

"Really?"

"Yes, I've been thinking about it, and I want an 'A' name."

"What made you decide that?"

"Talking with your mother about my mother."

"Really?"

"Yes. My mother's name started with an 'A', my grandmother's name started with an 'A', and your name starts with an 'A'. It's a Schreave queen tradition."

"I suppose we could name her after your mother." America said. "I wouldn't mind having a baby Amberly running around the Palace."

"Nor would I." Maxon agreed. "That would be lovely, but I want her to build her own legacy. I don't want her to be tied to my mother's life, as wonderful as it was."

"I think I understand that. You want her to have her own blank space to fill in the history books, rather than being Queen Amberly II of Illéa."

"Exactly."

"Well, get the book and start looking." America nodded to the bedside table, where Marlee had placed the name dictionary.

Maxon wheezed a little laugh and clicked on a soft, yellow lamp before carefully reaching over them for the book. While America fed the baby, he began looking through the 'A' names, and she read over his shoulder.

It took a little while, most of the names just didn't fit the baby in America's arms. Every once in a while, she saw one that was acceptable, she supposed. 'Aala' was interesting, and 'Abygail' was nice, 'Acacia' would do in a pinch, and 'Adelyne' was pretty, and enough like 'Adele' to be a good ode to Maxon's aunt.

Then America saw it. She felt a jolt of adrenaline as she read and re-read the name, looked down at the baby in her arms, and then looked back at the name again. She tried looking at the name after it, but no. It wasn't as good. She tried several other names, but none of them fit like that one. None of the others were as right for this Schreave baby.

"I see Aeleshia, that one's alright." Maxon mumbled, unenthusiastically.

"This one." America pointed.

"…That one?"

"Adrienne." America said, looking down at the baby in her arms. "Addy."

Maxon grinned widely, "I… I really like that, Ames." He cleared his throat and read from the book, "The female form of 'Adrian', the ultimate origin of which is likely the ancient Adria river, named in an ancient tongue from the word 'adur' which meant 'water'." Maxon paused and smiled, "Our little water baby?"

America shrugged, "Water does bring new life. And she will be bringing in a new era, as the first woman to sit on the throne of Illéa. …And it was raining when she was born." America smiled.

Maxon closed the book and set it aside. "Adrienne Schreave." Then he considered her, "Adrienne Emlyn Schreave."

"Emlyn?"

"Brave." Maxon said. "Brave and noble warrior, which are two of my many prayers for her. She'll need both bravery and nobility, when she sits on my throne and does battle as I do each day. It can also mean 'work', or 'hard worker', which she will certainly need to be. "

"Emlyn." America tested it out. "That's nice, Maxon. I like it."

"Princess Adrienne Emlyn Schreave, heir to the Throne of Illéa…" Maxon marveled.

America giggled as the baby turned her head, forgetting that that would make the milk stop. Baby Adrienne Emlyn complained with a noise and then puckered up her lips again, opening and closing them impatiently. America assisted the baby by gently guiding her little head back to the milk. "Princess Adrienne Emlyn Schreave, our baby bird."

Maxon chuckled and settled in next to America. "Queen Abby, Queen Amberly, Queen America, and Queen Adrienne." Maxon sighed. "It's perfect."

"And it'll be easy to call us, when you need us. 'Ames and Addy', or 'Ames, Addy, and Astra', sometimes."

Maxon grinned, "So perfect." he remarked, again. He was fading fast. America didn't know what time it was, but she knew he had good reason to be exhausted. Neither of them had gotten much sleep the night before, with the contractions starting in the middle of the night, and he'd signed a lot of important legislation that day, including amending the laws of inheritance, all before coaching her through labor and helping her bring this baby into the world. He needed some rest.

America finished up with the baby, including patting her back, and then gently, slowly stood up and crossed the room, aching. She put the baby down in the bassinet and then pulled the bassinet to their bedside, locking down the wheels so that it would stay still. Then, America carefully crawled back into bed and easily drifted to sleep.

She woke again before dawn, this time to a terrible smell, a fussy baby, and Maxon's uneasy words.

"You're all clean, don't worry." Maxon assured the baby, who was lying on the changing table across the room. Maxon was trying to wrap up a heavily dirty diaper, whilst clearly unsure where to dispose of it once he had it wrapped up. Baby Adrienne was lying, naked and squirming on the changing table, annoyed at her predicament.

America giggled, "You look so flustered." her voice was hoarse.

Maxon looked back at her, anxiety melting off his face as he took in the gorgeous sight of her. "A bit." he admitted.

"Set the dirty diaper aside and get a new one on the baby first. That way, in case she has any more mess to make, it will stay contained."

"Wise." Maxon nodded, relieved to have orders. He turned to the baby and worked on his new skill of diapering. "Shall I throw on some of this nice smelling powder?"

"Yes, she'll like that. It'll keep the diaper fresh for longer." America smiled. "Not too much."

"Right." Maxon set to work, and soon the baby was wrapped up and returned to the bassinet. "I'll run this horribly smelly thing down the hall, shall I?"

"Look for a small can with a lid." America said. "Small cans get their bags changed more often, and lids keep the smell contained."

"Smart thinking." Maxon agreed, and disappeared out the door. He was back in a matter of moments. "I'm sorry you woke, Love."

"I'm not. That was adorable, Maxon." America smiled and opened her arms toward him. He gently fell into her embrace, as he returned to his place, stretched out on the side of her bed. "You're an excellent daddy for doing that for her. I know she appreciates having a clean diaper."

Maxon nodded against her shoulder, where his face was pressed as he settled in to go back to sleep.

"Max?"

"Hm?"

"What time is it?"

"Oh, about four in the morning. Why?"

"What time are we getting started? With breakfast and the front steps and all of that?"

"Seven or eight." he said, peeking up at her. "Why?"

"Because I need to give you your gift before everyone else gets here… While it's just the three of us."

Maxon grinned, "We can do presents now, if you want."

"You're not too tired?" America asked.

"Not for this." Maxon grinned. "I'm never too tired for presents. Ever."

"Alright."

While America adjusted the bed, Maxon dug through the hospital bag until he pulled out what he was looking for. A small rectangle wrapped in shiny paper. "For you, my love."

America smiled, "Thank you. Yours is in there, too, in the brown paper envelope."

"Really?" Maxon's voice was intrigued, not a clue as to what it could be. He pulled the envelope out and then joined her on the bed. "You first, please."

"Are you sure?"

"You did the hard part." Maxon insisted. "You get your present first."

America smiled and unwrapped the rectangle, letting the paper fall way to reveal a velvet box. "New or heirloom?" America asked, excitedly. Maxon's jewelry presents were always amazing.

"New. Just for you. One day it could become an heirloom, though." Maxon grinned.

America bit her lip excitedly as she lifted the lid to reveal a gorgeous, thin golden chain with a small, delicate teardrop diamond hanging off of it. "Oh, Maxon…"

"It's more elaborate than you're used to, but it's still simple. Still elegant, I think." Maxon said.

"I love it, thank you!"

"The diamond is for Addy. I'm hoping it provides encouragement for you to make lots of babies for me." Maxon chuckled.

"Why?"

"Because each baby gets its own diamond. That's Addy's, but the next baby will have its own, and the one after that, and so on."

"So, if I fill this Palace with children, I'll have a full necklace." America grinned.

"Yes." Maxon laughed. "Something like that."

"It's wonderful… it's so beautiful, Maxon, thank you."

"Not half as wonderful or beautiful as you are, my love." Maxon assured her. "Here, I'll put it on for you."

The necklace hung perfectly against her collarbone, sparkling vividly, even in the dim light. America couldn't wait to see it out in the sunshine, it would be positively radiant.

"Perfect." Maxon declared, kissing the spot of skin next to the little diamond and bringing a flush to the place where his lips touched.

America took a steadying breath, and then pushed the envelope towards him. "I should warn you, what it is. You don't have to open it right now. Whenever you're ready, it'll be here."

Maxon sat upright, seriously. "What is it, Ames? What could require a warning?"

"It's one of your mother's letters to your Aunt Adele. When I first started reading through them, you told me that I could set aside a few for you, for when you were ready to read them, but you didn't think you'd ever be able to go through and read each one. That it would be too painful."

"I remember."

"Well, this is the one she wrote just a few hours after you were born."

Maxon looked down at the brown envelope in his hand, stunned. "Ames—"

"I know. But it's one of my favorites, and if you're feeling up to it, I think you should read it. If not, I have one of Gavril's assistants going into Angeles in the morning to fetch you another small camera like the one that saved your life. That can be your present, and you're to keep it in your breast pocket at all times, like the old one, and let it shield you from bullets and shrapnel and such."

Maxon smiled, ruefully, "We're safe, Ames."

"For now. And maybe forever, but just in case…"

"I understand." Maxon agreed, then returned his attention to the envelope. "Alright." he cleared his throat. "I shall read it aloud."

"Okay." America smiled, leaning over to the bassinet and pulling Adrienne into her arms. "We're listening."

"Dear Adele," Maxon began, shakily. It was already hard on him, just seeing Amberly's handwriting again.

"Maxon, I can read it to you—"

"Not yet." Maxon shook his head. "It's alright, Ames. I'm fine for now."

America smiled and pressed a kiss to Addy's forehead. "Alright."

"Dear Adele,

Things are finally settling down around here after quite a hectic night and morning. I'm hoping to have this letter delivered tonight, to hold you over until your visit next week. By now you're more than aware that I went into labor late yesterday afternoon, and almost twenty four hours later, my baby boy was born.

Clarkson never left my side for longer than a few minutes, and even then, only to complain to the doctors and nurses on staff that I wasn't being made comfortable enough. He hates seeing me in pain, and I think he was genuinely nervous about my health and that of the baby. As a result, he was rather a grouchy first-time father, but he survived it and so did I. And so did our beautiful baby boy.

He's so healthy, Adele! He's passed every test with flying colors! He has the most beautiful head of golden hair I've ever seen on a newborn, and his eyes are already dark like Mother's. He's not a fussy baby at all, that I've noticed yet. We've spent all five of his hours on earth together, and he only cried to let us know he was breathing. Otherwise, so long as he's in my arms, he's a happy boy."

Maxon paused, clearing his throat of the lump that was beginning to form there. America reached forward with her free hand and placed it on Maxon's knee. "You don't have to—"

"It's beautiful, America. I want to." Maxon reassured her.

America nodded, "Alright. We love you." she said, of Addy and herself.

"I love you, too." Maxon smiled between his girls. "So much." He took a long, deep breath and returned to the letter. There wasn't much left.

"I've never felt such a strong, pure, unselfish love before. I love this baby, not because of anything he can do for or with me, not because of any expectation I have of his performance as Prince, not because of anything. I love him with my whole soul, without condition. I pray he continues to grow healthy and strong, and I pray one day he knows this kind of love, as well.

We're going to name him 'Maxon', I think. It means 'greatest', and I certainly hope that he will be the greatest king that Illéa has ever known. Either way, he is my greatest accomplishment, and he is my greatest love. Of that much, I already know.

He's growing fussy in his bassinet now, I believe it's time for another feeding. I can't wait to see you, Adele! I can't wait for you to meet our son, our prince, our little Maxon. We'll have so much to talk about. I know you're also eager, so as soon as he's eaten, I'll have one of the nurses take a photograph of us to include with this letter. I'll send it on to you, hoping it finds you well, happy, and healthy.

Love you forever,

Amberly."

Maxon tried to casually peek into the empty brown envelope to see if anything else was in there, then looked up at America, a question in his eyes.

"The picture was not included with the letters." America said. "Adele had it framed a long time ago."

"Oh." he was disappointed.

America smiled, "Of course, three months ago, I wrote her, asking for a copy. I told her I wanted to give it to you as a gift once the baby was born. She sent me the original and said that you should have it, and to send her back the copy so that she wouldn't have an empty spot on her mantle."

Maxon's jaw dropped, surprised and eager.

America giggled, "Check the bag."

Maxon dug through the large, overstuffed bag excitedly, until he found another wrapped package. He ripped the paper off with wild abandon, until the photograph beneath was revealed. Amberly, in her own post-birth dress, in the same room he sat in now, propped up against what was very possibly the same bed that he and America were sitting on that very moment. In Amberly's arms, a lump made of the same blanket that was currently bundling sweet Adrienne. But instead of Addy's little face poking out, it was the baby version of Maxon's face. Amberly held him close to her body, but up at an angle so that the camera could capture his expression and golden hair with ease.

Maxon sobbed, happily, choking back tears and running a hand through his mussy hair. "Thank you, Ames."

"You're welcome, my love." America said, gently. Soothingly.

Maxon took a few deep breaths, looking between his mother's signature and the photograph again. "I want to… can we…" he wiped his cheeks, roughly, "I know it's the middle of the night, but can we reenact this photograph quickly? So that I can have a side-by-side version."

"Of course, Maxon. You set everything up, I'm more than happy to pose."

Maxon got the bed to the correct, upright angle, then adjusted the blankets around America and Addy. America mimicked Amberly's pose in the photograph, and Maxon turned on all the lights in the room.

He took a moment to find the exact location where the nurse had been standing, and then adjusted his camera until it was set up the way he wanted it to be. "Hold her a little more towards me." Maxon said, looking through the lens.

America obeyed. "How do I look? Too crazy? I can put on makeup—"

"You look beautiful… and you look just enough like Mother." Maxon smiled, slightly, but he remained focused on his task. He stopped, cleared away the wrapping paper and jewelry box from the shot so that the bed in real life and the bed in the picture were now identical. He returned to the spot where the nurse had stood shortly after his own birth, raised his camera, pulled the scene into focus, and then snapped several pictures while America smiled, proudly. Amberly's smile was the easiest part of the whole photograph to recreate. America felt every bit as proud and in love as Amberly had.

Maxon lowered the camera and checked his work, admiring the finished product. "It's perfect…. I can't believe it… I thought the first pictures of me were from the steps of the Palace, when Mother and Father presented me to the Kingdom. I had no idea…"

"I'm glad you're happy, Maxon."

"And that letter, Ames!"

"I thought you'd like it." America smiled. "I'm so glad I was right. Come back to bed."

Maxon returned the room to darkness and the lowered the bed before sliding in and pressing a kiss, first to America's forehead, then to Addy's. "What a perfect day."

"Absolutely perfect." America agreed. "We did it. We got our amendment, Maxon."

"I know. That's still sinking in, I think."

America smiled and set Adrienne back into her bassinet for safe sleeping, then cuddled in to Maxon's chest. "I'm so happy."

"I'm glad. I'm happy, too. Happier than I ever dreamed I could be." Maxon confessed, with a sleepy sigh.

Those were the wonderful words still floating through America's head as she drifted off to sleep again.

When she awoke three hours later, the baby was ready to eat again, and then ready to be changed again. This time, she changed the diaper, her back ready for a few minutes of standing instead of sitting or laying.

Mary arrived and helped America through a shower with the gentlest detachable shower head America had ever used. America felt heavenly clean as Mary eased her into a comfortable matching set of maternity underwear and then put the soft, post-birth dress back on again. She'd wear it until her hair and makeup were done for the baby's presentation.

When she reemerged from the bathroom with Mary, Maxon slipped in for his own shower and shave, relishing the chance to freshen up. He emerged in a gorgeous suit, unbuttoned at the collar, with no tie. He was a casual daddy-king that day.

He swept his daughter into his arms and kissed her on the nose. "You did so well, letting Mommy and Daddy sleep last night. We only woke up a few times, and never because you were screaming. You just needed some attention, a little food, a fresh diaper, nothing major…"

America smiled from her spot on the edge of the bed, as Mary styled her hair, using enormous hot rollers to get large, soft, natural-looking curls. "I think we'll be alright, as long was we work together and take a few more naps during the day than we're used to."

"Yes," Maxon frowned, considering his workload. "We'll sort it out, somehow."

"Having a night nurse a few times a week will definitely help." America mused.

"We'll have Silvia make that a top priority." Maxon agreed, "But as I said, our sweet baby girl was no trouble at all."

There was a knock at the door and then Paige poked her head in, grinning from ear to ear. She curtseyed from out in the hallway, "Commander Leger is here, as well as his wife, Lady Leger."

"Send them in!" America grinned. "Please!"

Paige nodded eagerly, blowing a kiss to the baby although Maxon pretended to catch it and hoard it for himself.

Aspen and Lucy passed out hugs to the whole room, including Mary. America abandoned her post at the edge of the bed for a moment, to collect Addy from Maxon.

"We weren't sure if you'd be awake yet." Lucy said. "I can't believe you're up and… putting on an official face and everything. You gave birth less than twenty-four hours ago, America!"

"Believe me, I know." America winced, shuffling uncomfortably. "But it won't be a heavy day. Just standing on the steps, right, Maxon?"

"Exactly, and then leaving the hospital wing and returning to the third floor as a family."

Lucy beamed, "I am so happy for you both."

Aspen still wasn't speaking. He was overwhelmed, visibly, and he stood stiffly behind Lucy.

America noticed and smiled, remembering her own ocean of tears at meeting Meri for the first time. "Come here, Aspen." America held out her free hand.

Aspen took it and she tugged him over to the side of the bed. They both perched there, and then she said, "Aspen Leger, this is Adrienne Emlyn Schreave. Addy, this is your Uncle Aspen." America cooed, before passing her over.

Aspen didn't even blink as he gazed down into the baby's beautiful face. "Mer…" he choked out.

"I know, Aspen."

"She's amazing." he managed.

"Isn't she?" America agreed.

Tears leaked down Aspen's cheek, "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Aspen. I can't wait until she and Meri are playing together and growing together. In the scheme of things, they're less than a year apart in age. They're going to be as close as twins."

Aspen pressed a kiss to Addy's forehead, then to America's cheek. "Congratulations, Mer."

"Thanks." America giggled, and pecked him on the cheek, too, before gesturing for Mary to come back over and continue hair and makeup.

Lucy and Aspen didn't stay long, they needed to get back to baby Meri, who was spending the day with Lena, in town. It was one of Aspen's rare days off, so it was important to them, as a family, not to spend too much of it at the Palace.

Maxon took a few pictures, then hugged them both, and then they were gone, just as Mary put the finishing touches on America's outfit.

"Crown again?" America frowned, eyeing the thing in Mary's hands. "That's two days in a row."

"It'll be much better now that you're not in labor, ma'am." Mary smirked.

"I suppose." America allowed.

Maxon pinned his own crown to his head, between making faces to amuse the baby who was incapable of expressing social amusement yet, but whose eyes were staying open for gradually longer periods of time.

Dr. Ashlar poked in, just before America went to put on the gorgeous, special blue dress. "How are you feeling this morning, your Majesty?"

"I'm back to 'your Majesty'?" America asked, disappointed.

"I think so." Dr. Ashlar nodded, and America sighed.

"I'm fine. Still tired, but much better than I was. Sore and achey, but I can tell I'm healing up."

"It will be a process, but I'll be checking on you regularly and I don't anticipate any problems. I know a challenge over the next few weeks will be taking regular baths. You'll be tempted, in the chaos of having a new baby and learning to balance your rolls as wife, mother, and queen, to skip anything that feels too personal or indulgent. It's a perfectly normal inclination, new mother's have hardly a shred of time to themselves, and any time they do get, they feel as if they've stolen from their babies."

"Oh." America frowned, unhappy at this news.

"For your own health, and to stave off infection, do not take shortcuts when it comes to baths and showers. Get very, very clean."

"I understand."

"I'll help." Maxon promised. "We'll make sure she has time to relax and take care of herself. We want a healthy mommy at all times." Maxon smiled at her.

"Excellent." Dr. Ashlar took Addy and began examining her, testing development of reflexes and dilation of pupils, checking to see if she was generally still responsive. While he did so, he continued to update America on after-care. It was a little frightening, how cautious it seemed like she'd have to be over the next few days and weeks, to make sure she was healing properly. Maxon squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. She was reminded that she wasn't alone, she had a partner to help her. She felt braver already.

When Dr. Ashlar was done, he cleared both America and Addy to leave the hospital wing for good. America smiled, excitedly, clutching her daughter to her chest. As soon as they were done on the Palace steps, they'd get to go home, to the nursery and the family room and their balcony. Home, to the third floor where no one could bother them unless invited.

Not that anyone was bothering them, but just knowing that she was about to take her baby girl to the most private, safest place in the whole Palace was an amazing comfort.

It only took America a minute, with Mary's help, to change into her gorgeous new gown, her stomach already noticeably smaller and less heavy than it had been this time yesterday.

"Alright." America said, holding her arms out for her baby. "Let's go introduce you to your future subjects, my princess." she kissed Addy's oblivious forehead and sat down carefully in a padded wheelchair, allowing Maxon to push her out of the birthing suite.

"See you next time." Maxon bade the room as they left, and America laughed. She needed a good, long break between now and next time.

America hadn't seen crowds like this since her wedding, and was stunned and a little anxious at the swell of people cheering outside the Palace gates. The press were situated just inside so that they could get proper photographs, but there were hundreds, even thousands of people unaffiliated with the press, who were just there to get their first glimpse of the princess.

Maxon wrapped an arm around the small of America's back, and America pulled Addy in closer as they stepped out the grand entrance to the Palace and onto the steps. The crowd roared its approval.

America and Maxon both waved, smiling as serenely as they could in this den of noise. Addy was untroubled, squirming a little and then settling back into America's arm. After a moment, Maxon led America carefully down a few of the steps to get closer to the people.

"Alright?" he turned to her and asked.

"Yeah, fine." America promised, smiling.

"Good." he grinned, looking down at their baby.

"Should we go talk to the press over there?" America asked, nodding over.

Maxon chuckled and looked between his gorgeous daughter and gorgeous wife. "No, I don't think so. I'm ready to take her to the third floor. I'll make a statement later or something. They'll put lipreaders on this footage, so it's basically like having an interview with us, isn't it?" Maxon winked.

America smiled and nodded, returning her attention to the baby. "She's going to be good at this, I think. She doesn't seem too upset by it, at least."

"She's brave like her mother." Maxon smiled at her.

"Emlyn." America grinned.

Maxon nodded, happily and they continued waving for a little longer. A helicopter flew overhead, getting a shot of the Palace with the royal family on the steps and what felt like the whole world at the gates, cheering.

"Wow." America watched it. "I don't think they did that at our wedding."

"No, they didn't." Maxon agreed. "What do you think, baby bird?" Maxon asked Addy.

Addy lazily smacked her lips.

"Yeah, me, too." Maxon grinned.

America took a deep breath, soaking in this amazing moment. Maxon's and her popularity was at an all-time high, they'd just changed the country for the better with their amendment, and now they'd presented the people with a much-craved Heir. A gorgeous baby girl. Not bad for two days' work.

"Ready?" Maxon asked.

"Yeah. Let's go home." America smiled.

Maxon nodded, and they waved one more time before turning. Maxon kept the hand steadying her back as America very carefully climbed back up the steps. Up was harder than down, America realized, as the pain seared her.

"Take your time. There's no rush." Maxon said, soothingly, but they were already almost to the top. It was a relief when they got to even ground and then turned back, waving, before disappearing into the Palace.

"Alright?" Maxon asked.

"Starving, actually." America giggled. "I'm ready for breakfast."

"We'll eat in our rooms?"

"Yes." America agreed, emphatically.

Mary joined them inside the Palace to take their crowns, but Maxon had other orders for her. She was to carry the baby up the stairs, while Maxon gently toted America up to the third floor. America was pleased by how well she already fit into his strong arms again, now that her bump was deflating.

When they emerged on the third floor, Maxon returned America to her feet and relieved Mary of the baby, sending America's head-of-household off with their crowns and with an order for enough breakfast for the whole Singer family. They'd be eating in the family room that morning.

Mary curtseyed and left, and Maxon offered America his free arm. "Shall we?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes. Let's go." America was almost giddy.

Maxon led them down the hall to their rooms, waving off a guard and opening the door for America to cross through first.

America took in a deep breath and sighed with relief. She was home. It was a beautiful morning, and she was home. She turned to Maxon excitedly, and Maxon pressed a kiss to her lips, then to the baby's forehead.

"Well, Addy, this is the family room. We're going to spend a lot of time in here. And this," he said, leading the way to the far side, where the door to the nursery stood wide open, "Is your bedroom. Your mommy reorganized this room about thirty times before you were born. She was nesting, you see."

America giggled, "Your father assembled your crib himself… after about three hours of moaning and complaining that it was too hard."

"Alright." Maxon rolled his eyes and America poked her tongue out at him. "As you can see, you're already the most mature person in our family, beautiful baby Addy. My sweet, sweet Addy bird. You have a lot to teach your mother and I, and we can't wait to learn it from you."

America clasped Maxon's hand tightly in her own. "And since you already have your daddy wrapped around your little finger, I think you should demand that he take the week off to spend with us. And maybe take us on a vacation to England in a few months. And tell him that I want a larger share of the national budget for my projects next year. Tell him that, Addy."

"Oh, is that how it's going to be?" Maxon asked. "Playing our daughter against me, using her to get what you want, is that how it's going to be, America?"

"That's exactly how it's going to be, Maxon." America laughed.

"Can you believe this woman, Addy? What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"Do you know what, Maxon?"

"What?"

"You had thirty-four other women to select from. You made your choice, now live with it." America joked.

Maxon laughed and leant over their baby to kiss America's smiling mouth. "With pleasure." he said, before kissing her again.