A Royal Obligation
Chapter 275: Epilogue: Ganging up on uncle Amarok

Chapter 275: Epilogue: Ganging up on uncle Amarok

"Don’t trip, my princess!" another handmaid pleaded, her voice tinged with panic.

But the little girl, Arin, spun around mid-run, her curls bouncing as she called back with a laugh, "We’re fast! You can’t catch us!"

Dorian, her equally mischievous brother, grinned at her. "If they can’t catch us, we’ll get to Zephyros first!"

Their laughter rang like tiny bells as they sprinted ahead, their excitement too big for their small bodies to contain.

The handmaids exchanged looks of exasperation, and wondered what the prince meant by getting to Zepheros first.

Are they planning to run to Zepheros or what? They picked up their pace, though it was clear they stood no chance of catching the whirlwind twins.

As the children rounded another corner at full speed, they collided with a soft yet unyielding presence. Startled, they looked up to see none other than their grandmother, Queen Morgana. Her white hair now has few silver-streaked hair, that was pinned elegantly in place, and her sharp yet kind eyes softened as she gazed down at the little ones sprawled at her feet.

"Well, well," Morgana said, her voice warm and full of amusement as she bent down to help them up. "And what’s the rush, my little hurricanes?"

Arin looked up at her grandmother with wide, innocent eyes, though her excitement betrayed her attempt to appear composed. "We’re going to Zephyros today, Grandmother!"

"And everyone’s ready but our twins uncles and Uncle Amarok," Dorian added quickly, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Morgana chuckled, brushing invisible dust off their tiny shoulders. "And you think running through the halls like wildlings will make them ready faster?"

The twins exchanged a glance before nodding in unison.

Her lips twitched as she fought back laughter, her heart full at the sight of their vibrant energy. "Well then, my dears," she said, placing a gentle hand on each of their heads, "why don’t you head to the courtyard? Your parents are waiting for you there."

The children nodded but didn’t move immediately. Arin tilted her head up at Morgana, her expression suddenly serious. "Grandmother," she said sweetly, her little hands clasped behind her back, "you should go check on twins uncles. Make sure they’re actually getting ready and not ganging up on Uncle Amarok."

Dorian chimed in with an exaggerated nod, his face scrunched up with suspicion. "They always gang up on him! It’s not fair."

Morgana froze for a moment, blinking at the accusation before bursting into hearty laughter. "Oh, you clever little demons," she muttered under her breath, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed her affection.

Arin and Dorian exchanged a triumphant look before spinning around and dashing off toward the courtyard, their giggles trailing behind them like a melody. The handmaids quickly bowed to Morgana, murmuring apologies for their inability to rein in the children before hurrying after them.

Left alone in the corridor, Morgana shook her head, her laughter subsiding into a fond smile. "Ganging up on Amarok," she mused, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Those two truly are their uncles’ kin."

With a small chuckle, she adjusted her shawl and continued on her way, the echoes of the children’s laughter lingering in the air like a pleasant memory.

---

The courtyard was a whirlwind of activity, bustling with guards, servants, and maids darting to and fro, their arms laden with boxes, crates, and fine linens.

The sound of carts creaking under the weight of precious cargo mingled with hurried instructions from the Crown Princess herself. Abigail stood in the middle of it all, her presence commanding and serene despite the chaos around her. She gestured gracefully to a group of servants arranging ceremonial gifts onto a carriage.

"Careful with that chest! It contains the ceremonial robes for Prince Eirik and Kaelix’s crowning," she instructed, her tone firm but kind. "And make sure the flowers arrive fresh; I won’t have them wilting before the ceremony."

Nearby, guards were securing the carriages, their movements precise and focused, while a line of handmaids carried elegant decorations toward another wagon. Abigail’s sharp eyes caught every detail, ensuring not a single thing was out of place.

Amid the bustling scene, Theron moved silently through the courtyard, his golden cape swaying as he scanned the flurry of activity for his wife. A sly grin spread across his face as he spotted her, too engrossed in her tasks to notice him. He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

"There you are," Theron murmured, his deep voice warm against her ear.

Abigail’s lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned back into him, tilting her head slightly to catch a glimpse of his face. "You caught me," she said playfully, her voice lighter than it had been all morning.

The servants and maids nearby stopped for the briefest of moments, stealing glances at the royal couple before quickly resuming their work. Some stifled shy smiles, while others pretended not to see anything, their hands moving just a bit faster as if to compensate for their distraction.

"I have to make sure everything is perfect," Abigail said, her tone firm with her usual determination. "The preparations for the ceremonies must be flawless. It’s not every day we have both a naming ceremony and a coronation on the same day. Everything needs to reflect the significance of the occasion."

Theron pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, his arms wrapped securely around her. "My love, everything you touch is already perfect," he murmured, his voice warm with admiration. "But you don’t have to do it all on your own. Let your maids share the load."

Before Abigail could respond, a pair of loud, excited voices pierced through the chaos. "Papa! Mama!"

Theron turned just in time to see their two children, Dorian and Arin, darting into the courtyard, their tiny legs moving with surprising speed. Behind them, their handmaids hurried after them, faces flushed and breathless from the chase.

"Papa, Mama! We’re ready to go!" Dorian shouted, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Pick me up!" Arin demanded, her curls bouncing as she leapt forward.

Theron caught them both with ease, lifting them high into the air. The twins squealed in delight, their laughter ringing out over the din of the courtyard. Abigail turned to watch, her hands momentarily dropping from her tasks as her smile grew soft and warm.

"Causing trouble again, I see," Theron said teasingly, holding the children close as they giggled in his arms.

"Not trouble!" Dorian protested, though his mischievous grin said otherwise.

"We’re just helping!" Arin added, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck and planting a loud kiss on his cheek.

As the handmaids finally reached the family, they bowed low before Abigail and Theron, their exhaustion evident despite their composed demeanor. Theron glanced at them with pity, understanding all too well what the children had likely put them through.