chapter 26

It was nearing the end of the eighth month, and the changes in Max were now glaringly obvious. His pregnancy symptoms had intensified, and while the physical toll was evident, it was the mood swings that left Alex often teetering between exasperation and amusement.

One particular memory stood out to Alex—so absurd and chaotic that he couldn’t help but laugh every time it crossed his mind.

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It was just two weeks ago. The palace was unusually quiet until a sudden commotion echoed through the halls. Alex had been in the middle of reviewing some documents when he heard the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps, followed by shouts. He bolted out of his chair and rushed toward the noise, only to find Max storming through the grand hall, brandishing a sword in one hand and yelling furiously at a terrified attendant.

“HOW DARE YOU?” Max’s voice thundered as he chased the poor man. “Strawberry jam is essential to my noodles, you fool! Who are you to decide what is or isn’t weird?!”

The attendant, pale and trembling, was trying his best to explain himself while dodging Max’s swings. “Y-Your Highness, I-I thought it wouldn’t taste good! P-Please, I’m sorry!”

Alex stood frozen for a second, unsure whether to laugh or intervene. Max, moodier than ever, looked hilariously ridiculous, yet there was an undeniable fire in his eyes—a glimpse of the king within him.

“MAX!” Alex finally shouted, striding forward and grabbing him by the shoulders before things escalated. “What are you doing? Put that sword down!”

Max whipped around, his expression equal parts furious and indignant. “Alex, this idiot thinks he knows better than I do! All I wanted was strawberry jam on my noodles! Is that too much to ask?!”

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” Alex said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “But maybe chasing someone with a sword isn’t the best way to get what you want?”

Max pouted, his lip trembling slightly, and Alex could see the tears of frustration beginning to form. “But he didn’t listen to me!”

Alex sighed, gently prying the sword from Max’s hand before turning to the attendant. “Go to the kitchen. Get the strawberry jam. Add it to the noodles. Now.”

The attendant didn’t wait for a second command, bolting away like his life depended on it.

Satisfied, Alex wrapped an arm around Max’s shoulders and guided him toward the stairs. “Come on, Your Majesty,” he teased lightly. “Let’s take you upstairs before you decide to declare war over condiments.”

Max huffed, leaning into Alex’s side. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I’d never,” Alex said, though his grin betrayed him.

By the time they reached their room, the noodles—properly topped with strawberry jam—were waiting on a tray. Alex set them in front of Max, who lit up like a child on Christmas morning.

“You know,” Alex said as he watched Max dig in, “you’re lucky I love you. Not everyone would put up with this level of chaos.”

Max paused mid-bite, giving him a mock glare. “You love me because of this chaos.”

Alex laughed, leaning down to kiss Max’s forehead. “You’re not wrong.”

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Even now, weeks later, Alex couldn’t stop smiling whenever he thought of that incident. Max might be unpredictable and dramatic, but Alex wouldn’t trade him—or their soon-to-arrive baby—for anything in the world.

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Or another time, when Max had been asking Alex about the unborn child, came to Alex’s mind. They had been sitting together, Max resting his head on Alex’s shoulder as they talked about what the baby might be like. Max, with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, had asked, “Do you think they'll have your eyes? Or maybe your smile? What if they have my temper, though?”

Alex chuckled at the memory, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “Well, if they have your temper, I’ll have to make sure the attendants know how to run fast,” he’d replied teasingly.

That had earned him a playful nudge from Max, who pouted but quickly shifted gears. “You know what we should do? We should start preparing for him! We’ll need clothes, and blankets, and—oh, maybe we can even have the Royal Tailor create something special!”

Alex had nodded, amused at Max’s sudden burst of enthusiasm. “We don’t know the size yet, though. So maybe let’s not order actual clothes for now,” Alex had said patiently. “But we can get some fabrics—soft ones for swaddling, maybe a blanket or two. And you can give the Royal Tailor some ideas of what he should create for when the time comes.”

Max had practically lit up at the suggestion. “That’s perfect!” he’d exclaimed, already making plans in his head.

But what stood out the most in Alex’s memory was what had happened later. When he returned from court the next day, he found out Max had already visited the Royal Tailor—and left specific instructions for the best materials, intricate embroidery, and designs fit for royalty. The cost? A staggering 250 gold coins.

Alex had stood there, stunned, as the tailor presented the bill. “ His Majesty said it was worth it because the fabrics look beautiful, Your Majesty,” the tailor had explained, bowing slightly.

In that moment, Alex had sighed, realizing there was no winning against Max’s excitement and vision. At the end of the day, he was just a mere king in front of his beloved husband.

Even now, thinking about it brought a mix of fondness and exasperation. Max had a way of making everything feel grand and extravagant—and Alex loved him for it, even if it meant footing unexpected royal expenses.

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Or, the other time, when Max had been sitting at his desk, deeply engrossed in some important work, came to Alex’s mind. Max had been going through the notes he had made after visiting the villages—records on development projects, education plans, and other crucial matters.

Alex remembered the sound of sniffles interrupting his thoughts as he stood on the balcony, sipping his coffee. He had turned around, curious, only to see Max sitting there, head bowed, tears streaming down his face.

At first, Alex had been alarmed. He rushed over, setting his coffee aside, and crouched beside Max. “Hey, hey, what happened?” he asked gently, placing a hand on Max’s shoulder.

Max, through muffled sobs, replied, “I… I forgot where I kept the village school records. I can’t remember it, and it’s so important, Alex!”

Alex had stared at him, wide-eyed, his concern slowly giving way to a mix of amusement and disbelief. Wow, it’s really easy to make him cry at this point, huh? he’d thought. But he quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming Max down.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Alex said soothingly, rubbing small circles on Max’s back. “We’ll find it together, okay? Don’t cry, Max. It’s not worth those tears, I promise.”

Max sniffled, nodding as Alex stood and started searching the desk with him. They’d combed through papers, notes, and journals, turning the room upside down, until Alex finally found a folded piece of paper tucked inside one of Max’s leather-bound diaries.

“Here it is,” Alex had said triumphantly, holding the paper up.

Max’s tear-streaked face lit up in an instant, the worry disappearing as quickly as it had come. “Oh, thank goodness!” he said, taking the paper and immediately diving back into his work, as if nothing had happened.

Alex had stood there for a moment, watching Max with a mix of affection and bewilderment. “Wow,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Just… wow.”

Even now, the memory brought a faint smile to Alex’s lips. It was one of many moments that made him realize how deeply Max’s emotions could swing during these months—and how much he loved him, no matter how chaotic things got.

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