When I woke up, I was sure I must have been dreaming. But there was no mistaking the pain that shot across my belly—it would have knocked me over if I hadn’t already been lying down.

And Andrew was gone.

I know the stress is getting to him. We’ve been counting down the days until we could truly be together again, and while having him near me tonight was wonderful, part of me knew all of him wasn’t there. His mind is elsewhere—the same as it’s always been.

And now I’m trudging through the snow alone, on my way back to the palace. But before I get even half-way, I’m doubled over with another contraction, this one even stronger than the first.

It’s too early, I think. I know the doctor said it was safe now, but there are still three weeks before the baby is due. Three weeks until Christmas, and part of me is sure that if she or he arrives even a second before the due date, disaster is going to strike.

I should call him, but I didn’t think to bring my phone. I thought… Well, I suppose I thought he would be with me for the night—that I wouldn’t need my phone since my husband would be by my side. But I should have guessed that he’d go off on one of his walks as soon as I fell asleep.

As soon as the contraction passes, I start again for the palace. The cold wind bites at my face as I carefully make my way down the path. I’m thankful for the small lights that illuminate the walkway—the snow is falling so hard now that the path is difficult to make out from the surrounding landscape.

I follow the lights back to rear entrance, stopping every now and then to breathe through another contraction.

I don’t hesitate—and I don’t stop to search for where Andrew might have gone. He could be anywhere—his office, the gym, our suite. I’m not about to try to hunt him down, not considering I’m having a contraction every two or three minutes.

God, every two or three minutes? I really must be in labor…

I make my way to the small hospital area located deep inside the palace. They don’t normally staff it in the middle of the night, but there’s a nurse there now, almost as though she was expecting me.

“Your Highness?” Her brows draw together as I stumble into the entry. “Is everything all right?”

“I…” I’m overtaken with another contraction at that moment, and I hunch over my large belly, grabbing at it with both hands.

She waits with me as the contraction passes, and takes me by the elbow. “Come with me.”

I nod, letting her lead me back to one of the examination rooms.

“Is the baby moving?” She looks at me with concern in her gaze.

“I…I don’t know.” I clutch at my abdomen again, almost willing the child to move inside me. I can’t remember the last time I felt it move—was it before the last contraction? Or maybe the one before that?”

She gives me a small nod, pulling a machine from the drawer. She lifts my shirt to place the end of it against my belly, and a moment later, the reassuring sound of my baby’s heartbeat fills the room.

She smiles at me, putting the machine away. “The heartbeat sounds good. I’ll notify the doctor that you’re here. She should be along in a few minutes.” She nods at me again as she leaves me alone.

I should have asked her to contact Andrew. But how would she be able to do that? He might have his phone on him—I’m sure she could call him and let him know. But what if he doesn’t? It wasn’t as though I checked with him before he left me alone in the middle of the night.

It’s only a few minutes—and another contraction—later when the doctor enters.

She doesn’t say a word, just looks me up and down for a moment. “Today was the first day I said you were allowed relations with your husband.”

“I know. And we didn’t do anything before today, I promise.”

She motions for me to lie back on the examination table, and I do.

“If you’re in labor, everything should go smoothly. The baby is in the right position, it’s big enough—”

“But it’s three weeks early.” I try not to let tears fill my eyes at the words. It just seems too early.

She nods. “I know. And we’ll get you to the hospital in the city if we need to. But for the moment, we need to do a few checks.”

It takes a few minutes, but she completes whatever it is she needs to do. She snaps her gloves off and smiles down at me. “How much water have you had to drink today?”

“Water?” I can feel my forehead wrinkle with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…I think you’re a little dehydrated. It’s what’s causing the false labor.”

“False…labor.” I shake my head. “How can this be false labor when it hurts this much?”

She smiles at me again for a long moment. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but it will feel much different—much worse—when it is real labor.” She pats me on the shoulder. “I’m going to give you some intravenous fluids tonight, and after that, I want you drinking plenty of water until this little one is ready to be born. Okay?”

I nod. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Good.” She looks around the room, almost as if she’s noticing for the first time that Andrew isn’t there. “Where is your husband?”

“That’s a good question.” I shake my head. “I don’t know. But I think maybe we need to be more worried about him than about me or this baby.”