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#monaco national day
gabriellademonaco · 5 months
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The Ladies of the Monaco Princely Family
National Day Fashion 2023
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charlotte-of-wales · 1 year
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@.hshprincesscharlene: Happy National Day 🇲🇨
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gracie-bird · 7 months
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Monaco, November 29, 1957: Proud parents, Princess Grace (expecting her second baby, Prince Albert) and Prince Rainier of Monaco, proudly hold their first daughter, Princess Caroline, wearing a collar-type hat, as the child's mother, the former Grace Kelly stands alongside balcony of the Prince's Palace in Monaco. The national holiday marked this year the 8th anniversary (1947-1957) of Prince Rainier's reign in this tiny principality.
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10 months old Princess Caroline at the Monaco's National Fete.
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news-magazine · 5 months
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Monaco National Day 2023
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royalchildreneurope · 5 months
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Pierre Casiraghi, Beatrice Borromeo, Stefano Casiraghi and Francesco Casiraghi attend the Monaco's National Day 20230, at The Prince's Palace in Monaco -November 19th 2023.
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calciopics · 2 years
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Born on this day: Bernardo Silva (10.08.1994)
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mellon1998 · 2 years
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Carnation — Inktober 2022 Day 16
Today's national flower is for Monaco 🇲🇨
(I'm strictly working in ballpoint pen, any color is the paper)
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dreamofstarlight · 2 years
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It's getting into National Day season and I'm so excited!!!! The norwegian ladies wearing their bunads, trooping, the swedish national dress!!
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sportday · 23 days
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Recognize the role of sport in promoting peaceful and inclusive societies.
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A special event featuring elite athletes and sporting organization experts highlighting the role sport plays in helping to achieve the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). Gain insight from leading figures in the sporting world as they discuss innovative ways sport is helping take climate action, promote sustainability and gender equality, combat racism, and foster industry partnerships.
--- Celebrating the International Day of Sport for Development and Peace (IDSDP), the event will recognize the role of sport in promoting peaceful and inclusive societies. In addition to UN Member State Ambassadors and UN officials, the event features elite athletes and experts from prominent sporting organizations such as the Players Coalition, Concacaf, UEFA, Generation Amazing, Protect our Winters, and FIFA. Speakers will share best practices, discuss challenges, and explore collaborative opportunities that leverage sport as a tool for sustainable development and peace.
The event is organized by the United Nations Department of Global Communications (DGC) and United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs (DESA), with the support of the Permanent Mission of the Principality of Monaco to the United Nations and the Permanent Mission of the State of Qatar to the United Nations.
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boiohboii · 6 months
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The Royal Way
(Leclerc!reader x prince of monaco!OC)
After his older sister marries into the Monaco Royal family, Charles knew he would be treated differently, to his surprise (and his sister's disappointment) his F1 team, ferarri, treated him the same way.... and that did not sit well with the new princess of Monaco
or
in which YN Leclerc uses her new familial connections to fuck up ferarri just like how they fucked up her baby brother's hopes and dreams.
N.B: I AM BACK WITH A DIFFERENT TYPE OF REVENGE SMAU! ALSO, FORGIVE ME IF THE FORMAT IS DIFFERENT I MIGHT HAVE FORGOTTEN SOME STUFF, I AM WORKING ON PT 2 RN SO HOPEFULLY YOU WON'T HAVE TO WAIT LONG! WARNINGS: not proofread, fuck ferarri (they are the bad guys here), also ferrari is written wrong, I will correct myself in pt2! Hope you like it! Let me know what you think!!
Masterlist
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Liked by Charles_leclerc, Fararri, Maxverstappen1 and 12,820,746 others
MonacoUpdates: congratulations to our new princess, YN Leclerc, and our prince, Thierry, on their wedding. The entire nation wishes you a happy life together 💗💗.
username: PRINCESS YN LECLERC!! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO
username: NOOOO!! YN BABYY! WHAT ABOUT OUR KIDS
username: YN and Thierry are OUR ROYAL COUPLE
username: anyone remembers their paddock era?
username: the only time ferarri gave my boy a decent strategy
username: don't remind me, since they have been planning their wedding and not going to the paddock ferarri has been so shitty to Charles
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Liked by Princess_YN_Leclerc, Pierregasly, landonorris and 1,309,682 others
Charles_leclerc, Arthur_leclerc and lorenzotl shared a post.
We didn't want to let you go, none of us wanted to walk you down the aisle because that meant that you will not always be here, you will have your own family now, your own little ones to look after and not three younger brothers who just annoy you because they can. You always looked out for us, took care of us, walked us to school, took us to our races and cheered us on. You were always there, never leaving us alone; a presence we love and crave because your arms feel like home. Whenever mum would work too much you would help us with our homework, make us dinner and tuck us in. It was the happiest and the saddest day for us, to see you walking away from us in the arms of another man who will cherise you and love you to the end of time. We love you so so much, please don't stay away too long and visit us because we will always be your little ones.
Congratulations to the both of you ♥️♥️♥️
Princess_YN_Leclerc: God you three are making me cry. I love you three so much, I can never live without you. You were always spying on me whenever I'd mention a date, even when it was our country's prince it didn't deter any of you a bit. You will always be my three little musketeers who make me laugh, smile and scream.
username: MY THREE LITTLE MUSKETEERS!! FUCK OFF!!
username: God, this family makes me so sappy, I love it
username: BECAUSE YOUR ARMS FEEL LIKE HOME!!!
username: what my parents wished for when they had me and my brother
username: if they don't fucking post a video of the Leclerc boys walking their sister down the aisle i will scream, CAUSE I KNOW THEY WERE CRYING
landonorris: oh, they were fucking bawling mate
danielricciardo: full on sobs, even max was crying
maxverstappen1: I did no such thing
lewishamilton: I can confirm that max was weeping
maxverstappen1: fuck you man @.lewishamilton
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Part 2
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theemporium · 6 months
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What about 🧸 and Charles Leclerc ? Literally whatever you desire, maybe featuring his family or other drivers?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“I’m going to cry.”
“Charles—”
“Look at him, mon amour! He looks so cute!”
The Monaco Grand Prix was important for every driver due to its history and nostalgia, but it meant so much more to Charles. Ever since he was a child, he dreamed of racing on the streets he grew up on. He dreamed of being in a car, hearing crowds scream his name as he crossed the finish line. He dreamed of standing on the top step of the podium and holding the trophy in the air proudly at his home race. 
The Monaco Grand Prix meant everything to him, and it meant everything to him to have the people he cared about most there with him. He wouldn’t dream of racing without having his friends and family and biggest support systems by his side. It was what truly helped him and motivated him through the day. 
With you, that circle extended. And now, it extended once more when little Matteo Leclerc was born. 
It was Charles' dream to have a family. To meet the love of his life, to grow and live with her, to take that step into creating a lovely family together. And Charles knew you were the woman for him when he first met you. He had blurted as much in your face the first time he spoke to you. And now years later, to have the son you both created in his arms, it felt like a full circle moment. 
Yes, the Monaco Grand Prix was always important to Charles but this one was more important than the rest—this was the first time his son was coming to his race, to his own home race.
“I would not have dressed him up like this if I knew you’d get so emotional,” you teased your husband, watching as his eyes welled up as he gently cooed at the giggling boy in his arms. Mattheo was still young, just shy of turning one years old in a few weeks during the summer break.
“Oh hush,” Charles sniffled. “I would have cried anyways, regardless of what he was wearing.”
“So the Red Bull merch would have been too much?” You joked. 
Charles narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say bad words around my son,” he said with his chin held high before he turned to Mattheo, his face softening in seconds as the boy garbled and reached for his father’s face. “My son is a Ferrari fan, through and through.”
“Don’t disown him if you find him in the McLaren garage later,” Arthur piped up, walking towards the two of you with a mischievous grin on his face. “I heard Norris has baby merch waiting to change Matteo into.”
Charles’ hold became more protective of his son. “Over my dead body.”
You rolled your eyes, lightly hitting Arthur’s arm. “Stop messing with him.”
“But it’s so fun,” Arthur whined in response. 
You snorted. “It is.”
“Ah, ma vie, look at your mama and uncle teaming up on me,” Charles whispered loudly to his son, gently rocking him back and forth as the young boy stared up at his father with eager eyes. “It’s just you and me against the world.”
“Stop turning my son against me or I will let Lando change him into that horrendous orange merch,” you jokingly threatened, trying to bite back your own grin when you saw Charles grinning. 
“I’ll make it up to you later, mon amour,” Charles winked. 
“Aw, bleh! Not in front of my nephew!” Arthur fake gagged, which only seemed to make little Matteo burst into a fit of giggles. “Go get ready before you miss the start of the race! And give me my nephew before you scar the poor boy for life!”
It took ten minutes to convince Charles to let go of Matteo, his heart shattering a little when the young boy became frustrated and fussy after being parted from his father. But you kissed him on the lips, whispering good luck and telling him to return safely to his family on the other side of this race. 
And that was exactly what he did—and more. 
It didn’t even hit him until he was standing on the top step, the national anthem blaring through the speakers as his eyes glanced over the crowd below to find you and Matteo at the front of the crowd. He couldn’t really see you but he knew you were crying, he knew he was probably crying too. 
And little Matteo looked up at him from the crowd, cheering and clapping his hands once he spotted his father and Charles could’ve sworn his life had peaked. This was what he dreamed of long before he realised. To win his home race, to stand on the top step, to see his family waiting for him as he raised the trophy in the air and drowned in champagne sprays before rushing straight towards them.
“Mes amours,” Charles murmured, tears streaming down his face and a grin so wide that nothing would have wiped it off his face as he reached to hold you both.
“Our winner,” you responded, your free hand cupping his cheek to swipe away a few stray tears with your thumb.
“Dada!” Matteo cheered happily, causing both you and Charles to let out laughs of disbelief as your son uttered his first word. 
“Yes,” Charles laughed, nodding his head as he reached for his babbling son. “Me! Dada!” 
“Dada!” Matteo repeated, a gummy grin on his face as he squished his father’s cheeks together, and this time neither of you could stop the tears streaming down your face. 
This was the day Charles had always dreamed of and he had finally achieved it.
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gabriellademonaco · 5 months
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Princess Charlene’s Outfits 2023
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dilemmaontwolegs · 7 months
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Hiiii I absolutely loved you Max fics I don’t know if you ever would want to do that but if your interested please do a mafia storyline with Max or Mick! ❤️
Little Lion Man || MV1 & CH16
Pairings: dark!Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: you find yourself caught in a war between the mafia families that ruled Monaco. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, guns, murder, pregnancy, slight non con/reluctant vibes, forced marriage WC: 3.5k
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For a nation so small it was hard to believe that Monaco could be home to not one but three mafia families. There was the Leclerc famile, Verstsppen familie and the Sainz familia. The Leclerc’s had always called Monaco home but the Dutch and Spanish families had made their arrival known in the 90’s, almost burning the city in the war that broke out.
Just over 30 years later, it looked like history was going to repeat itself as the prodigal sons took over the family businesses.
“You are my daughter, if I say you will marry Charles then you will marry him. End of argument.” You would hardly call it an argument when you weren’t even given an opportunity to say your piece but your father left no room for a rebuttal as he slammed the door closed behind him. There was a reason the Sainz’s called him the Peacemaker.
You were a bargaining chip, a pawn in your father’s arsenal to end the war between the Leclerc’s and the Sainz’s before it could spill out into the street and affect everyone’s bottom line. The last thing anyone wanted was to lose their men, their money and their product.
Two weeks later you were shoved into a wedding dress that could have been a film prop for any 80’s rom-com, puffy sleeves and all. It was hideous.
“You are quite beautiful,” Charles said as you reached the dais where the priest waited. “I suppose that will make this easier.”
By ‘this’ you assumed he meant the moment the reception was over and you found yourself stepping into his bedroom, your bedroom too now. Charles had been quiet for most of the evening, indulging in a handful of whiskeys over ice as he mulled over what his life had become, but he found his voice as he tugged his tie off. “On the bed.”
Your fingers tightened around your waist as you hugged yourself, trying to fight back the tears you thought you had finished shedding when you resigned yourself to your fate. “You don’t have to do this, we can come to an arrangement.”
Charles scoffed and continued to unbutton his dress shirt. “This is the arrangement.”
You swallowed as he shucked the shirt over a leather armrest and you saw the dark tattoos that curled over his biceps and down his forearms. A snake moved with his muscles and entwined around a gothic cross. Beneath it, thorny roses with blood drops splattered over the petals decorated the otherwise sun kissed skin.
“I don’t know what my father told you but I-”
“Your father said you would be an obedient wife,” he interrupted as he pointed a ringed finger to the bed. “I’m only as terrible as you make me.”
You took a step back as he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your face. It was reflex to flinch from his touch, knowing the violence his hands were capable of dealing to those who displeased him. You couldn’t help shivering as his cold wedding band touched your cheek and his other arm snaked around your waist, dragging the zip of your dress down your spine.
“What does that even mean?” you whispered. You took a breath and grew the courage to tip your head back and met his uniquely green eyes - the colour brighter than the soul behind them.
He pushed the puffed sleeves from your shoulders until the dress fell to the floor and inhaled at the sight of your body being bared to him. Biting his lip, he stepped back and ran a hand over his shadow of a beard. “Behave yourself, and I will too. Push me, and I’ll push you back harder.”
You felt the colour drain from your face at the threat and he chuckled as he closed the distance between you, forcing your lips apart with a demanding kiss. His palms ran down your spine and over the curve of your ass, pulling you flush against the hard expanse of his body.
“One other thing,” he murmured against your lips. “Disappoint me or my family and, well…it will be the last thing you do, chérie.”
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You collapsed into Max’s arms the moment he opened the door, your fingers digging into the straps of muscle along his back as you clung to him like a lifeline. The penthouse apartment was quiet except for the tv playing in the master bedroom and your sobs filled the foyer before he could even close the door.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Max said, despite holding you just as tight. “He probably has Arthur or Lorenzo following you.”
You started to pull back but his arms caged you in his embrace so you settled for talking into his chest. “I know how to lose a tail. I was careful.”
He sighed and rested his cheek on your head, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo he had missed. “I know, liefje. How long is he gone for?”
You screwed your eyes closed and wished he had never brought Charles up, but you knew Max wanted to know how long he could have with you. “He’s in Nice for a meeting. A few hours at least.”
The hatred for your husband had led you into the arms of Max, his rival and head of the Verstappen familie. The three families would meet each quarter for negotiations and settle disputes, or at least that was what it was meant for, but they just used it as a way to flaunt their wealth and success over each other.
It was after the wedding when you went to your first one that Max had caught your lifeless eyes as you sat beside Charles, decked out in a custom designer dress with diamonds strung around your neck, slowly choking you. He had been struck down by the vision before him and had never wanted something for himself so much in his life. He had been willing to go to war for you and he didn’t even know your name. He had learned it soon enough.
“Do you know who he’s meeting?” Max asked. Even when he wasn’t meaning to he was phishing for information, a reflex he couldn’t seem to stop with a mind as sharp as his.
“Please, mijn leeuw, not tonight,” you whined as you buried your face in his neck. (My lion)
“I’m sorry,” he said with a kiss to your forehead before he tipped your chin back to meet his ice-blue eyes. “What do you need from me, liefje?”
“I need to forget. Please, help me forget.”
Max closed his eyes as rage hardened his features and you knew he was rueing the day he let Charles live. The solution to your problem couldn’t be solved with a bullet and although Max knew that, it was still a bitter pill to swallow. He wanted nothing more than to bathe in Charles’ blood for what he had done to you, but the retaliation would be catastrophic. He had too many people relying on him, friends and family alike.
All Max could give you was a few short hours of his time to show you how he would treat you if the circumstances had been kinder. For a few short hours of stolen time he could erase the touch of Charles from your mind.
Max took your hand, his fingers easing your wedding ring off before placing it on the hall table with your handbag. You relished the freedom that came without the constricting band and flexed your fingers like it had been physically painful to wear the gold jewellery. In a way, it had.
Linking his fingers with yours, Max led the way through the apartment and into the bedroom you found comfort in. This should have been the place you called home, the solace you returned to at the day’s end. It was the one place you felt safe, even though just being here put your life in danger. If Charles ever found out you knew you would be dead, your body left somewhere it would never be found.
“Max…do you believe in God?” you asked in the quiet afterwards. Your arm was curled around his waist, fingers tracing the lion tattoo that covered his rib cage. You could feel the time ticking away with each heartbeat in his chest that you rested your head upon.
“No,” he said honestly, his accent thickening with his amusement. “Do you?”
You looked at the slight change in skin tone where your wedding band usually sat and slipped out of his embrace to find your clothes. “I have to,” you whispered as your throat began to tighten at the thought of returning to the cold mansion Charles owned. “There’s got to be something more than this hell. Maybe one day he will answer my prayers.”
Max could remember the feeling of taking over the family business, how he thought he was invincible - godlike even. Now he felt powerless to the situation. He didn’t like the feeling. He wanted to be the one to answer your prayer.
“One day…” he promised himself aloud, missing the way your spine stiffened at the words. There was no guarantee you would survive long enough for him to keep it.
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You stared dumbly at the two pink lines and felt the walls of the bathroom constricting around you. You couldn’t imagine bringing a child into the world you were imprisoned in, it was unfair and deadly. What if the babe had dirty blond hair and ice blue eyes? A new fear sent a shudder down your body and you looked at your stomach, nothing to show - yet.
The door crashed off its hinges as Charles busted it in and you screamed at the surprise, cradling your abdomen on reflex.
“I called you ten fucking times!” Charles growled. His eyes narrowed as they scanned the room before settling on the pregnancy tests lined up. For the first time since you had wed him, Charles looked lost for words, and after a moment his hard stare softened. “We are having a baby?”
You couldn’t remember when he ever addressed anything as ‘we’, it was always you and him - separate, not together. You didn’t know how to react to the instant change in him but you nodded stiffly as he waited for an answer.
A smile grew on his face as he stepped forward and pulled your hands away from your stomach to place his own beneath your camisole. “My son, my heir,” he chuckled, the warmth of his palms almost blistering your skin.
“It might be a girl.” You flinch at the look he gave you and muttered an apology. Just because he was suddenly being gentle didn’t mean he would stay that way, especially if he ever found out the child wasn’t his. Nausea rolled through you and you pushed away to hurdle yourself at the toilet before you emptied your stomach.
It wasn’t morning sickness.
It was a sickness of the heart.
You knew if Max were to believe the child was his then he would have no choice but to go to war, it was a matter of pride and family. On the other hand, Charles would never let the child live if it wasn’t his and despite just learning of its existence, you were willing to do anything to protect it. You needed to tread carefully and that meant no more escaping your guards to see Max. It meant playing the good wife, at least for the next eight months.
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You could feel his intense stare from across the table, willing you to meet his eyes. Too many times you felt them drifting up from your husband’s hand clasped on your lap only to snap them back down before you could give in. It would do no good to look at Max. You hadn’t seen him since the night before you took the pregnancy test and you had dreaded going to the quarterly meeting.
There was no hiding the bump in the tight dress Charles had chosen for you. There was no way that Max had missed it when you walked in on your husband’s arm. He had seen it and he had questions.
“I’m going to the ladies room,” you excused yourself after the meal, while the men talked business.
“Arthur will go with you,” Charles said with a nod to his younger brother sitting at his other side. “I don’t trust any of these assholes.”
His hand lingered on the small of your back as you stepped out and you glanced across to see Max’s eyes fixated on that touch. Though you did not welcome the hands of your husband, you no longer feared them the way you used to. Charles was far gentler now that you were, potentially, carrying his heir. It could also be Max’s.
A hand clasped over your mouth and silenced the scream that rose in your throat. “It’s me,” Max whispered, soothing your racing heart.
You looked around the powder room wondering how he had made it past Arthur and saw a narrow cleaner’s entrance left open a crack. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“You never came back, never answered my messages.” The hurt in Max’s voice made your chest ache and your hands dropped to the growing swell of your abdomen. He followed that movement, his chest filling with the deep breath he took and the pearl buttons on his shirt started to strain until he exhaled. “I didn’t believe the rumours.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked, the biting tone wanting detailed explanations like you were one of his men answering for your actions.
Your lips parted, ready to tell him exactly what you were sorry for, before they slammed shut. “I should go.”
He caught your arm as you moved past and he pulled you flush against his body to bury his face in your neck. “Tell me, please. I’ll make it happen, I’ll answer your prayers, I’ll go to war for you - for both of you. Just tell me, is it mine?”
The confession threatened to slip past your lips, the truth that you didn’t know, that he very likely could be. The confession threatened to eat you alive like it had done every time you saw one of Max’s men around Monaco. They always managed to get a message to you, but you never had a response to send.
“No,” you muttered as you pushed him away.
He rocked back on his heels but remained steady as he watched you retreat to the exit. “No, it isn’t mine or no, you won’t tell me?”
Your back hit the door and you blindly reached for the handle, sparing one last look at his shimmering eyes so you could remember them a little longer. “Whatever helps you to sleep at night.”
“Dammit, liefje, just tell me. I need to know.”
You broke away at the endearment that weakened your resolve and your shoulders curled in on themselves. “I can’t tell you, Max, because I don’t know. I. Don’t. Know.” Your voice cracked and the weight of those words fell tenfold on your shoulders as your hand slipped from the doorknob. “I don’t know who the father is, Max. I-I’m sorry.”
His strong arms grappled you into a tight embrace as you broke down in them, your knees giving out as you felt his lips on your forehead, smelt his cologne on his neck. “It’s okay, liefje, I'm going to fix this.”
You pulled back with eyes and blinked away the tears as you placed your hand on your belly. “How? What if it’s not yours?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” he promised as he tipped your chin back. “Mine or not, this baby is yours and that’s enough.”
A knock sounded at the door and you panicked as Arthur asked if everything was alright. Your reply was muffled as Max stole a kiss and quietly repeated his promise before disappearing back into the cleaner’s room. Wiping your eyes, you unlocked the door and met your brother-in-law’s narrowed eyes before they searched the room behind you. “You’ve been crying.”
“Pregnancy,” you said with a wave of your hand. “It’s called hormones, Tur. Happens all the time, just ask your brother.”
Max’s chair was still empty when you reached the table but he entered from the main door a few minutes later. The mask he often wore in front of those outside the familie was firmly in place as he unbuttoned his suit with one hand and dropped back into his seat, apologising for taking an important call.
“Your men can't handle one evening on their own?” Charles baited over the rim of his wine glass with an antagonising smile.
Max returned the grin with his own as he slipped his phone into his suit jacket. “You have no idea what my men are capable of.”
You could feel the ripples of those words across the table, the feel of a threat in the air. It not only set Charles on edge but Carlos too - the two sharing a look of concern before facing the Dutchman once more.
Max took a mouthful of his gin and tonic and bit into the lime wedge without reacting to the strong citrus taste. Taking his time, he picked up his napkin and cleaned the drops of juice from his fingers before laying it over his lap as everyone watched closely.
It looked as if he were nervously fiddling with his rings under the napkin and Carlos snickered, relaxing back into his chair until your lion spoke again. “But you will…”
The air stilled for a moment as the napkin drifted to the floor and warmth splattered your cheek. You couldn’t think fast enough to process what had happened or why the wetness on your cheek was red. It could have been minutes but it felt like hours before your brain connected the dots and you saw your husband's body slumped in his chair before you, his green eyes open but unseeing.
Across the table, Max had risen to his feet, the fidgeting revealing a silencer he had been screwing onto his gun. He was cold and precise as he took out Carlos next, his accuracy unmatched. Around the seats he went, faster than they could react as the doors were busted open and his second in command arrived. Danny was ready to die protecting Max’s back while you dropped to the floor and prayed for protection of your own.
“We have to get out of here,” Arthur growled as he caught your ankle and dragged you back where he was kneeling, his white chinos turning red as they absorbed his brother’s blood. “Stay low, protect my nephew.”
“Do you have a gun?” you asked with a shaking voice.
“Of course not,” he spat angrily. No one was meant to have weapons at these meetings and you were assuming Max had retrieved his from the reception area before returning.
“Then you’re fucked.” You kicked your Louboutin into his face and scrambled away as he howled in pain, reaching the edge of the table close to Max.
“Liefje, are you alright?”
“Arthur, under there,” you rushed as you pointed behind you, closing your eyes as he lifted the cloth and the muffled gunshot rang out.
“Not anymore.”
“Time to go,” Danny suggested, reloading his magazine and kicking a few bodies to check they were truly dead.
“Is that it?” You asked, hope filling your voice despite the devastation in the room surrounding you.
Daniel threw his head back and laughed but Max just shook his head and said, “This is just the beginning. We just declared war.”
“But they’re dead.”
“Someone will take over, and when they do - we will need to be ready.” Max reached out and wiped the blood from your cheek. “You’re free of him now, you both are.”
Your breath rattled out of you as you felt the weight lift from your shoulders and as the sirens grew in the distance you managed to smile, the first genuine smile in months. Your prayers had finally been answered. “Thank you, mijn leeuw.”
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Five Months Later
Ice blue eyes met yours before a piercing cry erupted and Max’s laugh was one of pure joy. “Mijn zoon,” he cooed softly as he rested his cheek on your head and you watched the midwife gently bring your son to your waiting arms.
Tears blurred your vision at the warm comforting weight of his tiny body lying chest to chest with you. You had never felt anything more precious, never held anything more delicate. He was perfect.
“My little lion man,” you whispered, brushing a kiss over the tufts of dark hair he already had. “We love you so much.”
As if he knew what the words meant, his eyelashes fluttered and he peeked them open to bear twin green irises. He would be an heir. He could unite the families. Or, he could tear it all apart.
Only time would tell.
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gracie-bird · 8 months
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Prince Albert points to something of interest to him during a parade marking a national holiday in Monaco on November 22, 1959. His mother, Princess Grace, is at left; his father, Prince Rainier is at right, and watching from the balcony is her sister, Princess Caroline.
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news-magazine · 1 year
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Monaco National Day 2022 Family Royal appear at the Palace balcony
Monaco National Day 2022 Family Royal appear at the Palace balcony
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royalchildreneurope · 5 months
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Pierre Casiraghi, Beatrice Borromeo, Stefano Casiraghi and Francesco Casiraghi attend the Monaco's National Day 20230, at The Prince's Palace in Monaco -November 19th 2023.
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