Page 133 of Royally Benevolent

The room rose, clapping. All but those in the family, that was. Andsomehow,I realised I counted. Theo jumped up, bursting with excitement to see Odette on stage.

“Odie!” He waved. “Ohhhhhh-deeeeee!Ici!”

I tried to calm him, but his sheer enthusiasm overwhelmed my attempts.

“Hello,” Odette said. “And yes, Theo, I see you, hello!”

She gave him a little wave, which more than satisfied him. He fell back into his chair, happy to feel important.

“Thank you all for coming to this first-annual event. I am overwhelmed by the number of you who showed up to talk about bikes and walk through the streets. Those of you who joined us on the historic walking tour last night were a lot of fun. And Linda, you are still the best for bringing up the rear with me. I’m moving alittleslower these days.”

The crowd laughed, giving her a chance to catch her breath. Odette was effervescent. She truly didglow.

“A run-in with a car over there—” Odette pointed to her right. “Taught me a lot about city planning. Ironically, it was that driver—tired and distracted—that knocked into me who would change my life forever. Lives are lost every day due to collisions that could be prevented by better street planning. In this case, the man who came to my rescue and helped me find my dog had already lost one person very near and dear to him in a similar way. He was passionate aboutfixing things. And, together, we lobbied to have a curb bump-out placed.”

I smiled.

“The intersection went from being the most dangerous to being very safe in a matter of weeks. Since it was improved, the intersection has seen no more pedestrian or cycling accidents and fewer car collisions across the board. City planning benefits all of us, which is why I am thrilled to announce that Mayor Montague’s office has planned a full evaluation of the twenty most dangerous intersections in the city. Once the results are in, a pool funded by generous government grants and private funding will ensure intersections are safer, and the city’s traffic is calmer.”

People clapped loudly. Odette soaked up the applause, beaming all the while. We’d done it. Odette’s persistence paid off. It only took about two years, but it was done.

“Let’s ensure that every Neandian is safe so that we all make it home to our families and our children are empowered and independent. Imagine a world where your child could safely walk to school, where a bike could replace a car, or where transit is the norm. It is so reliable that the idea of owning a car seems onerous. We’d all be better off. So, thank you all for supporting a brighter future. And let’s go enjoy some snacks and some cool bikes.”

Odette closed her portfolio and stepped back from the podium.

“It is my favourite when she says it all in French,” Theo whispered.

I rubbed his back. “I know, bud.”

My French was better, but I still preferred English. Of course, Odette always spoke to Theo in her mother tongue—just as she did the niblings. It was comforting to him. On days I missed Isla the most, I reminded myself that he had a lot of her in him. His language was a big part of that. The fact that Odette nurtured it with him every day brought me peace.

“Can I talk to Lyla in French? Will she speak French?” Theo asked.

“Bud, let’s keep it down,” I shushed him. “Not everyone knows about the baby, okay?”

We named the baby Lyla June, bucking the trend of never knowing whether a royal baby was a girl or boy before it was born. Theo was asurprise, but Odette wanted to know ahead of time. I acquiesced. It was her first pregnancy, and she was the one growing the baby. I wasn’t going to debate her. The problem now was that only Theo, my mom, Odette, and I knew the baby’s name. We didn’t need the press discovering our baby.

“But will she?”

“I think, like Aunt Alex and Uncle Rick’s kids, the baby will speak French first and English second. The baby won’t know the difference, and we’ll all have to figure it out.”

“But how will she learn?”

“You can read herlotsof books. That is how babies learn to talk,” I held his hand as we filed through the crowd to find Odette.

He ran the last few yards right into her stomach, pressing his hand into the lower half of her belly. The Mayor looked at him, confused. Odette tussled his hair.

“He likes to get the baby to kick him,” Odette explained. “If he waits long enough, the baby will let him know its whereabouts.”

“She kicked me!” Theo shouted. “Mama, she KICKED me!”

It was like a gut check. At first, I wanted to correct him for using “she” in public and around strangers. Then, I tried not to fall to pieces. He’d never called Odette Mama—not until now.

Odette patted his head, not correcting him, “The baby is happy to see you.”

The mayor bent to Theo’s level. “Would you like some cider? A cookie?”

He nodded excitedly.

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