Nolan POV
By the time my shoulder stopped reminding me it had been cut open, the kingdom had already decided who I was supposed to be.
My days filled quickly again—meetings stacked atop meetings, advisors cycling in and out of my office, public appearances carefully spaced so I could be seen without seeming overexposed.
The campaign had shifted into something relentless. Momentum had a way of demanding constant attention, and the moment you stopped feeding it, it turned on you.
I understood that.
Still, every hour away from the nursery felt wrong.
I told myself it was necessary. That this was the price of securing a future where August and Ian wouldn’t grow up under the same shadow I had. A crown meant stability. Authority. Protection that didn’t depend on goodwill or fragile allian
