/ Istvan – FC Rob Evans
/ Both images borrowed from their Instagram
/ I own none of these images, all used with love and respect <3
/ Rings – enoirvado / Vegas view – Instagram sin1city / Quotes – all taken from Pinterest and none had credit for where they came from.
Two weeks had passed since they’d taken the test. Istvan had spent those weeks walking around deliriously happy, a grin spread from ear to ear. Viktoria had never seen him look so blissfully happy, so proud, so dreamy about the future. Istvan rushed back from functions and events to sit with his wife on the sofa every evening, her legs slung across his, him stroking her stomach, planting kisses in her hair, voicing questions like, ‘Do you think the baby is a boy or a girl?’, ‘Do you want to find out the sex?’, ‘Do you think the baby will look most like me or you?’, ‘Who do you think should be Godparents?’, ‘Have you had any ideas about names yet?’, ‘Do you think we should have one of those maternity photo shoots?’
Viktoria was trying as hard as she could to get herself into that same excited frame of mind for Istvan, but she simply wasn’t succeeding. She was so anxious about the pregnancy already, and although she didn’t have actual morning sickness so far, she felt nauseous most of the time and every time Istvan asked her these perfectly normal questions, her mind raced then went totally blank. She just couldn’t get her head past the present day, this was too big for her and she was struggling to keep her head above water. But how the hell could she burst his bubble and tell him that when he was so elated? She knew her husband was just the most wonderful man, and he’d be an amazing father, and this child was everything he’d ever wanted; Istvan didn’t deserve to have this marred by her… Well, whatever this was… Vik’s standard answer, said with a bright smile that didn’t quite extend to her eyes, had become, ‘Oh well, you know, I hadn’t really thought about that yet. I’m not sure darling, what do you think?’ She was grateful that Istvan was so full of ideas that he didn’t seem to notice she was deflecting his questions back to him, eagerly chattering about the wealth of things he’d read up on and telling Viktoria that he ‘just knew’ that his ‘precious little button’ was a baby girl.
Every night after Istvan’d fallen asleep Viktoria lay awake staring out through the gap in drapes into the darkness of the night sky, her hand on her stomach, trying to create a connection to her baby, waiting for some lightning bolt moment where she suddenly felt like a mommy and felt capable of being a parent for the rest of her life… Desperate for that feeling to wash over her, she would lie there for hours some nights, eventually burying her face in the pillow and silently sobbing when it never came.
—
Istvan returned from a diplomatic engagement to find Viktoria on the treadmill again. Initially he’d been a bit concerned that she was pushing herself too hard until he’d downloaded the Baby Babble app for his cell phone, apparently as long as it’s something the woman was doing previously and felt well enough to continue with, there was no reason to stop. Still, Istvan would really rather hear that from an actual doctor… But they hadn’t even had the pregnancy officially confirmed by a doctor yet; Istvan had frowned at his pretty wife when she said there was no need to do that – she knew how far along she was to within a week or so and she felt fine. When he challenged her on it, Viktoria sharply told him to stop fussing and that she didn’t want the pregnancy being leaked out to the press, especially not until the first trimester was past.
Istvan grudging agreed that if they were seen even just entering the hospital there would be speculation… But wasn’t it kind of irresponsible to not to see the doctor? It troubled him and made him feel uneasy, and Viktoria was normally very much a person who did things ‘the right way’… Istvan couldn’t put his finger on it, but his wife just seemed a little strange right now. Maybe it was just her body being flooded with pregnancy hormones? But when he looked at her, her pale blue eyes seemed miles away. She had been anxious about starting a family, but that had all been settled when she’d returned home to him, they were together and stronger than ever. She said she was ready to try, so it couldn’t be anything to do with that, those fears had been laid to rest long ago, hadn’t they? But she just didn’t seem like herself, she was a lot quieter than usual, permanently tired, and honestly, he thought she looked thinner. It was probably nothing Istvan thought, but decided to discretely keep a closer eye on her, just to be sure… He wouldn’t say anything yet, but he wasn’t going to let this go for too long before approaching her about it…
—
Viktoria sat at the desk in her private study, sipping on mug of fruit tea. She screwed her nose up – it was ‘ok’… She was trying to limit the amount of caffeine she was taking in because she knew it wasn’t good for the baby, but honestly she missed her hot, strong coffee so much. She also missed her usual glass of wine at night. She felt so stressed out right now that she could really use a glass or two. She flipped listless through brochure packs. There were a few new venues competing for the honour of holding the Monarch’s Trust Awards this year; they’d put together their best tenders and with it being a charity, they all wanted to do it at cost, knowing well that there would be a tsunami of follow-on business to come due the televising of the event and the 8-page spread guaranteed by Trend Magazine… It was six months away. Suddenly Viktoria realised that by the time of the ceremony she would be very heavily pregnant. Would she even be able to attend? She’d never missed the CMT Awards since she set up the charity… Her life was turning upside down… Everything was changing… She gingerly placed a hand on her stomach; surely the way she was feeling would change before then too?
Viktoria looked at the framed picture of her wearing prom dress and hugging her mom on her desk, wondering if Elena had felt this way when she was carrying her? ‘If only my mom were alive, I could talk to her and maybe she’d be able to help me…’ Viktoria wished, sighing as silent tears rolled down her cheeks, wrapping soft cardigan tighter around her body. A few moments later, a knock on the heavy oak door pulled Viktoria out of her trance. Quickly she dabbed her tears away with the sleeves of her cardigan, and cleared her throat as she shouted,
“Yes?”
A warm voice shouted back,
“It’s Mrs Levy, Your Highness, is it convenient to clean the study, or shall I come back later?”
Viktoria replied,
“It’s fine Mrs Levy, please come in.”
Viktoria smiled at the rotund older lady as she entered the study,
“How are you Mrs Levy?”
The woman grinned at Viktoria as she carried in a myriad of cleaning products,
“Oh you know how it is Your Highness! Busy busy! Between cleaning the palace and looking after that husband of mine… Have a lovely weekend planned with my son and the grandchildren to look forward to though!”
Viktoria nodded, she liked Mrs Levy very much, she’d worked there since Istvan was a child and she was a breath of fresh air around the palace; an open book with a sense of humour.
“How many grandchildren do you have now, Mrs Levy?”
Viktoria enquired. The older woman grinned,
“My daughter has two girls, my son has a boy and a girl, with another on the way very shortly. My daughter-in-law needs some rest, that’s why we’re taking the children out this weekend.”
Viktoria gasped,
“Five, Mrs Levy, my goodness!”
As she moved forward in her chair, Viktoria spilled her tea all over the desk and floor,
“AWWWW SHIT!!!!”
She lurched forward trying to grab tissues to mop up the pool of purple liquid that was spreading across the brochures lying on her desk. Mrs Levy rushed over with a towel and took over as Viktoria burst into floods of tears. The older lady’s eyes widened as she patted Vik’s arm,
“Oh Your Highness, it’s only a cup of tea, don’t cry, my love, we’ll clean it up in no time…”
Viktoria sniffled as she watched on; Mrs Levy whizzed around the desk like a tornado, getting rid of the mess she had created, only stopping to pop the now soggy brochures onto the windowsill to dry out in the streaming sunlight. Viktoria’s cheeks coloured and her head dropped. She felt embarrassed, ‘What must this woman think of me? The Queen of Cordonia crying over a stupid cup of tea? What an idiot.’
Mrs Levy crouched down beside Viktoria, taking her hand,
“Your Highness? If I’m not being too personal, are you doing ok? You don’t seem yourself. If you want a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on… If there’s something you need to talk about, it wouldn’t go any further, my love…”
—
TBC – VP 💖
