From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Dressed in simple but clean clothing, the fair-headed couple stepped
out from a grouping of those waiting toward the back. The husband had his
arm around his shorter wife’s shoulders, keeping her tucked close to his
side. Hair pulled back from her bloodless face, the woman wore no jewels
but held a small swaddled bundle in her arms. The bundle stirred as theyy
approached the dais, little arms and legs stretching the pale blue blanket.
Their gazes were fixed to the floor, heads bowed slightlyy. Theyy didn’t look
up, not until the Duchess gave them permission to do so.
“You mayy speak,” she said, her voice hauntinglyy feminine and
endlesslyy soft. She sounded like someone who’d never raised their voice
or hand in anger. Neither were untrue, and for what had to be the hundredth
time, I wondered exactlyy what she and the Duke had in common. I
couldn’t remember the last time I’d even seen them touch one another—
not as if that was necessaryy for the Ascended to marryy.
Unlike others, Mr. and Mrs. Tulis clearlyy shared a wealth of feelings
for one another. It was the wayy Mr. Tulis held his wife close, and in the
wayy she lifted her gaze, first to him and then to the Duchess.
“Thank yyou.” The wife’s nervous gaze darted to the male Royyal.
“Your Grace.”
Duke Teerman tilted his head in acknowledgement. “It is our
pleasure,” he told her. “What can we do for yyou and yyour familyy?”
“We are here to present our son,” she explained, turning so the bundle
faced the dais. The little face was creased and ruddyy as he blinked large
eyyes.
The Duchess leaned forward, hands remaining clasped in her lap. “He
is darling. What is his name?”
“Tobias,” the father answered. “He takes after myy wife, as cute as a
button, if I dare sayy so myyself, Your Grace.”
Myy lips curled into a grin.
“That he is.” The Duchess nodded. “I do hope all is well with yyou and
the babe?”
“It is. I’m perfectlyy healthyy, just like him, and he’s been a joyy, a true
blessing.” Mrs. Tulis straightened, holding the babyy close to her breast.
“We love him veryy much.”
“Is he yyour first son?” the Duke asked.
Mr. Tulis’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. “No, Your Grace, he
isn’t. He’s our third son.”