Lucky

"You ok, kid?"

Henry had been extra quiet for a few days, and David was worried about him. With all the drama on both sides of the family, it would have been no wonder if the little boy was overwhelmed.

The prince was sitting on a bench in the park, taking a rare moment to enjoy the breeze and let his mind try to digest the things he'd recently learned. His grandson was just getting back from school, with a full backpack and a preoccupied expression.

"Sure, I'm fine," he answered, turning to his grandfather and grinning—Henry's smile was always a surprise, like the sun coming out after rain.

"Mary Margaret's going to be fine, you know," said the prince, trying to guess at the child's thoughts.

"I know," Henry answered. He set his books down and joined his grandfather, who quickly put a big arm around him.

"You can tell me anything that's on your mind," David tried again, surprised at how quiescent and calm Henry was acting. Usually, after a long day of school, he would be running around trying to sword fight with trees.

Instead, the little boy nestled closer to him. "Mary Margaret's really lucky," he said.

"What do you mean?" asked his grandfather, surprised. "Lucky" wasn't the word he'd have used to describe his wife's past few days.

"She's got you," said Henry shyly.

"Oh," said David, realizing suddenly why his grandson had practically been his shadow for the previous week. He'd wondered why he and Mary Margaret couldn't seem to go anywhere without their grandson behind them, watching their every move. The prince was glad, now, that he hadn't said anything to make Henry self-conscious about it.

"You know, you and Emma have me too," he said, "and I'll always love you, no matter what you do."

"Uh huh," said Henry, dipping his head, clearly a little embarrassed by the exchange.

David was glad to have had a reason to say what he'd said. He wished he'd been able to say the same thing to Henry from the time he was a baby, so that by now, when he was almost close to being a teenager, he would be so convinced of his grandfather's love that nothing would be able to shake his assurance. But he hadn't been there when Henry was a baby, and he had to make do with the time fate had granted him. The prince was glad that he'd found it in himself to forgive Mary Margaret without condition. Maybe the little boy had seen and absorbed what David wanted so much to make him believe.

"Bye," said Henry, hopping off the bench and taking off in the direction of home. This time, his expression wasn't preoccupied. He just looked happy.