Heartbeats and Crown Jewels

Chapter Two

The halls of St. Peter's Hospital in Westminster were transformed. Walls, usually a muted blue, were now adorned with celebratory garlands and children's drawings in anticipation of the royal visit. The air buzzed with a mix of excitement and the everyday urgency typical of hospitals. Nurses in starched uniforms, doctors with stethoscopes dangling around their necks, and patients - some bedridden, others mobile - all waited with bated breath.

Prince Henry and Alex Claremont-Diaz entered the pediatric ward, greeted by a burst of applause and a few eager gasps from the youngest patients. A little girl, no older than seven with braided hair, approached with flowers.

"Your Royal Highness, Mr. Claremont-Diaz," she said, her voice trembling but proud. "Welcome to our ward."

"Thank you, darling," Henry smiled, bending to her level. "What's your name?"

"Lucy," she replied, handing over the bouquet.

As they moved forward, Alex leaned in, "She's brave, isn't she?"

Henry nodded, "Remarkably so. Just like someone else I know."

They shared a brief, intimate glance before continuing. Dr. Morgan, a middle-aged pediatrician with salt-and-pepper hair, approached them. "Your Royal Highness, Mr. Claremont-Diaz, it's an honor. I hope the visit today brings some cheer to our young ones."

"I'm sure it will, Doctor," Alex replied, shaking his hand.

Walking through the corridors, they met various patients. There was Jamie, a teen battling leukemia but passionate about football, who made Alex promise to kick a ball with him someday. Mrs. Patel, a mother whose son was undergoing surgery, spoke with Henry, gratitude evident in her eyes. "It means so much that you're here Sirs. It's a ray of sunshine in such tense times."

They also conversed with nurses about their day-to-day, the challenges of the job, and the unparalleled joy when a patient recovers. Nurse Clara remarked, "It's not every day we have royalty walking these halls. The kids won't stop talking about this for months!"

As they moved between rooms, the weight of their roles never ceased. Yet, amidst the corridors, away from watchful eyes, Henry's fingers brushed against Alex's, a fleeting touch, grounding and real amidst the formalities.

Turning a corner, they approached the newborn ward. Through the glass, they could see the tiny forms, life in its earliest stage. Alex, ever the one for light-hearted remarks, whispered, "Imagine us, two dads. Chaotic, right?"

Henry chuckled softly, "Utterly disastrous. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Henry leaned in, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Two dads, you say? Who do you reckon would be the stricter one?"

Alex snorted, "You, without a doubt. Royal protocols and bedtime schedules? Sounds like a lethal combination."

They shared a chuckle before being approached by Dr. Roberts, a neonatologist with a gentle demeanor. "Your Royal Highness, Mr. Claremont-Diaz, this is where miracles happen every day. Tiny battles, tiny warriors."

Alex gazed at the tiny infants, a softness in his eyes. "It's incredible what medical science can achieve."

Henry nodded, "And the sheer will of these little ones. It's heartening."

As they continued, they met Sarah, a young nurse who couldn't contain her excitement. "Mr. Claremont-Diaz, I followed your mother's campaign religiously! You both are such inspirations."

Blushing slightly, Alex replied, "Thank you, Sarah. It's teamwork, always. Like what you all do here."

Further down, they met a family – the Thompsons – waiting outside the ICU. The mother, Mrs. Thompson, wringing her hands, approached Henry. "Your Royal Highness, my son's inside. It's... it's tough. But today, seeing you both, it brings hope."