Page 168
Story: Rags to Royals
“Uh…sure.” I would honestly let her go anywhere for anything with any of the people in Cian’s family, but I only vaguely register her words because I am staring at what she’s wearing.
She’s got a tiara on her head.
That is not a dress-up-and-play-pretend piece. That is a real actual tiara. And even one of the glittering green jewels probably costs more than everything I own.
And there area lotof glittering green jewels on that thing.
She also looks really beautiful in it.
“What are you wearing?” I ask, trying to act casual and not like all the royal stuff has nowtrulysunk in.
Her hand flies to the tiara and she grins brightly. “It’s Saoirse’s.”
Now that I take her in fully, I note that her long, dark hair has been curled and put up in an elaborate twist that shows off her long, slender neck. She’s also wearing a gorgeous off the shoulder blouse that is not hers, and a floor length skirt.
She does not have a single splash of red on. Her signature color. The color she wears in some form at all times.
“And what is all of this?” I ask, waving my hand up and down.
“Saoirse, Fiona, Abigail, and Linnea have been talking to me about princess stuff.” Mariah laughs lightly. “Not as much Abigail. She’s still learning too, and she doesn’t have many skirts or dresses and she says she always forgets she has her tiara on and it ends up slipping or falling off.” She grins and twirls. “But I’ve been practicing for when I have one to wear. Of course, mine will be blue like Cian’s.”
I’m choked up. I can’t help it. We’ve always been a house full of women, and Ruby in particular has had a lot of fun playing dress-up with Mariah, fixing her hair, and doing things like painting her nails. I know Mariah has always felt secure, loved, and supported. But now, overnight, she has a whole new group of cousins and aunts, and they’ve all embraced her so easily. She’s practically glowing from all the attention and excitement.
Cian and everything about the Cara royals made Mariah the target of ridicule from Leah and her group for weeks. Now he’s made her an actual princess and any of those girls would trade places with her in a heartbeat.
I know she doesn’tneedall of this to be happy and well-adjusted. But it still feels like sweet justice all the same.
“You’re choosing blue like Cian’s?” I ask her. The way Mariah and Cian have bonded never fails to move me.
“Well, no,” she says, finally flopping into one of the chairs at the table. “Each of the O’Grady grandchildren has a different color. Fiona and Saoirse wear green jewels. Their tiaras and crowns are green. Torin’s color is purple. So his and Abigail’s crowns and tiaras have purple stones. Technically that should have been Declan’s since he’s the first born and should have been king, but it went to Torin when he became Crown Prince. Now Declan’s is the red jewels. It would be cool if Cian’s jewelswere the red ones since he’s withScarlett,” she says with a grin. “But his are blue. So your tiara and mine will actually be blue.” She touches the tiara again. “Saoirse is just letting me wear it to get used to it.”
I stare at her. There are actually certain colors assigned to each of the siblings. And they’re already talking about how Mariah and I will also have tiaras with the same color as Cian’s.
My stomach swoops at the idea of being identified as ‘belonging’ with Cian that way. Even though I do not think I’m the tiara type.
“Your wedding ring will also have blue stones,” Mariah tells me, somehow sitting sideways in the chair with her leg draped over the arm, despite the skirt she’s wearing, and still keeping the tiara on her head. Maybe she’s a natural.
Then her words sink in.
My wedding ring will have blue stones.
Myweddingring.
My stomach swoops again.
I may not be the tiara type, but I am very much the type to wear a wedding ring that identifies me as Cian’s wife.
I smile and feel myself tearing upagain. What is going on? I don’tcry. But watching my daughter carry herself with confidence and joy and watching her in the past fourteen hours be surrounded and absorbed into this group of people, I realizesheis the tiara type. She is a princess in attitude and potential. She is going to be able to do amazing things and this family can give her the support and resources to change the world.
“You look amazing in that tiara,” I tell her, my voice choked-up-mom thick.
She gives me a knowing smile and eye roll but says, “Thanks.”
I catch Ruby watching me and give her a smile.
“Blue is really one of your best colors,” she tells me softly.
Yeah, I’m definitely going to cry. I have to swallow hard. “Thanks.”
She’s got a tiara on her head.
That is not a dress-up-and-play-pretend piece. That is a real actual tiara. And even one of the glittering green jewels probably costs more than everything I own.
And there area lotof glittering green jewels on that thing.
She also looks really beautiful in it.
“What are you wearing?” I ask, trying to act casual and not like all the royal stuff has nowtrulysunk in.
Her hand flies to the tiara and she grins brightly. “It’s Saoirse’s.”
Now that I take her in fully, I note that her long, dark hair has been curled and put up in an elaborate twist that shows off her long, slender neck. She’s also wearing a gorgeous off the shoulder blouse that is not hers, and a floor length skirt.
She does not have a single splash of red on. Her signature color. The color she wears in some form at all times.
“And what is all of this?” I ask, waving my hand up and down.
“Saoirse, Fiona, Abigail, and Linnea have been talking to me about princess stuff.” Mariah laughs lightly. “Not as much Abigail. She’s still learning too, and she doesn’t have many skirts or dresses and she says she always forgets she has her tiara on and it ends up slipping or falling off.” She grins and twirls. “But I’ve been practicing for when I have one to wear. Of course, mine will be blue like Cian’s.”
I’m choked up. I can’t help it. We’ve always been a house full of women, and Ruby in particular has had a lot of fun playing dress-up with Mariah, fixing her hair, and doing things like painting her nails. I know Mariah has always felt secure, loved, and supported. But now, overnight, she has a whole new group of cousins and aunts, and they’ve all embraced her so easily. She’s practically glowing from all the attention and excitement.
Cian and everything about the Cara royals made Mariah the target of ridicule from Leah and her group for weeks. Now he’s made her an actual princess and any of those girls would trade places with her in a heartbeat.
I know she doesn’tneedall of this to be happy and well-adjusted. But it still feels like sweet justice all the same.
“You’re choosing blue like Cian’s?” I ask her. The way Mariah and Cian have bonded never fails to move me.
“Well, no,” she says, finally flopping into one of the chairs at the table. “Each of the O’Grady grandchildren has a different color. Fiona and Saoirse wear green jewels. Their tiaras and crowns are green. Torin’s color is purple. So his and Abigail’s crowns and tiaras have purple stones. Technically that should have been Declan’s since he’s the first born and should have been king, but it went to Torin when he became Crown Prince. Now Declan’s is the red jewels. It would be cool if Cian’s jewelswere the red ones since he’s withScarlett,” she says with a grin. “But his are blue. So your tiara and mine will actually be blue.” She touches the tiara again. “Saoirse is just letting me wear it to get used to it.”
I stare at her. There are actually certain colors assigned to each of the siblings. And they’re already talking about how Mariah and I will also have tiaras with the same color as Cian’s.
My stomach swoops at the idea of being identified as ‘belonging’ with Cian that way. Even though I do not think I’m the tiara type.
“Your wedding ring will also have blue stones,” Mariah tells me, somehow sitting sideways in the chair with her leg draped over the arm, despite the skirt she’s wearing, and still keeping the tiara on her head. Maybe she’s a natural.
Then her words sink in.
My wedding ring will have blue stones.
Myweddingring.
My stomach swoops again.
I may not be the tiara type, but I am very much the type to wear a wedding ring that identifies me as Cian’s wife.
I smile and feel myself tearing upagain. What is going on? I don’tcry. But watching my daughter carry herself with confidence and joy and watching her in the past fourteen hours be surrounded and absorbed into this group of people, I realizesheis the tiara type. She is a princess in attitude and potential. She is going to be able to do amazing things and this family can give her the support and resources to change the world.
“You look amazing in that tiara,” I tell her, my voice choked-up-mom thick.
She gives me a knowing smile and eye roll but says, “Thanks.”
I catch Ruby watching me and give her a smile.
“Blue is really one of your best colors,” she tells me softly.
Yeah, I’m definitely going to cry. I have to swallow hard. “Thanks.”
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