Page 49 of Guarding the Princess

Ryker pulls me in close, nuzzling his nose into my neck before looking me in the eye. “As your king I’ll do less bodyguarding and more guarding of our love.”

“As your queen, I accept your proposal.”

When his lips descend to mine, nothing else is said for a very long time.

Epilogue

Charlotte

A royal wedding takes much longer to prepare for than the average wedding.

If it had been left up to Ryker and me, we would have flown back to the States and visited a chapel in Vegas. Logically, we knew that wasn’t the right decision. The people of Regora wanted to see their queen get married. They deserved to see my handsome fiancé and fall in love with him just as I did. So, wedding planning by my mother and several wedding planners began the day after I had the ring on my finger. I was consulted, of course, for the major items, but largely I left it up to them.

The church bells ring out loud and clear and that’s my cue. Klara, looking beautiful in the dress I insisted she wear, hands me my bouquet of flowers and opens the door. I take one last deep breath before stepping into the hallway and then into the main church where all the people are gathered, finding not one flutter of nerves to be had. All I feel is excitement to finally be here: the day I will marry the love of my life.

Faster than is customary, I practically run out the door and down the hallway, several attendants and planners running after me frantically whispering final ceremony details to me. They don’t understand one fundamental truth. All could go wrong today, and as long as Ryker and I left that church man and wife, the day would be a smashing success.

I come to a stop outside the double doors, taking a moment to realize that generations of brides have stood before these very doors, about to take the same walk down the aisle. The colorful history of my country hits me full force. I’m so honored to be here where all the women before stood, perhaps excited, maybe apprehensive or downright angry about their impending vows. No one has forced me into this marriage. The crown sits on my head whether I take a husband or not. Never before in the history of Regoran queens has one had so much freedom.

The very thing that caused my brother to take his own life and prompted me to run away, is what I now hold in my hands. A deep sense of gratitude pulls me back from rushing. This is a moment to be savored.

Ryker had been right. If I want Casual Fridays, I can make it a law. I’m Queen after all.

The doors swing open and the organ begins the traditional song to accompany me down the aisle. My father steps into view and crooks his elbow. I take it and give him a squeeze before looking down the aisle and realizing I can’t see my soon-to-be husband. The church is filled with people, some I know, some I don’t, practically overflowing the dark wooden pews. Huge bouquets are tied to each row of pews, so high in stature and wide in blooms, I can’t see much beyond a row or two in front of me. I almost laugh out loud at the irony of walking down the aisle and not seeing one’s intended. I guess that will teach me to be a bit more involved in the wedding plans.

I look left and see Rhys and Jake holding each other and watching the processional. Asher is next to them, a woman I don’t recognize squeezed tight to his side. Rhys waves at me with tears already streaming down her cheeks and I wink back. The moment I told her of my engagement, she started making her own plans for a bachelorette party. Continents and oceans can’t keep my best friend away.

I look to my right to avoid crying right along with her. I must at least make it to Ryker before I lose it entirely. On my right, squeezed between advisors and politicians and the wealthy elite who scored a ticket to the wedding are my new friends Walker and Jemma. Asher, being a fabulous older brother, heard Rhys’s and my phone conversation about my coronation and announcing my brother’s death. He suggested my family get a hold of his client, Walker, as he’s an expert in grieving. After a few phone conversations, I flew him and his wife out for a few weeks to enjoy Regora. While they were here, he met with my parents and me, providing excellent counseling that really helped us all grieve finally and ultimately created a tighter bond because of it.

Cameramen are set up every few feet, capturing every second to televise live to the rest of the nation. I smile for them, knowing the ones that matter the most aren’t the fancy people stuffed inside the church because of their last name or the number of digits on their bank accounts, but the working families watching from afar, or the little girl who shared her sweet bun, or the woman who makes grogg to share with strangers. Those are my people.

Father and I keep walking, my train spreading out and tugging me from behind. Mother wanted forty feet of train, I put my foot down on ten. Ryker’s mom, sitting in the second row, has her hands clasped beneath her chin, her eyes wide and glassy like she might truly lose it at any second. I blow her a kiss she quickly returns. Within the first ten minutes of her first visit to Regora, I’d found a second mom in her. She loves easily and I accept wholeheartedly.

The huge bouquets finally end and suddenly I can see Ryker standing proud at the altar, so handsome in his tuxedo. His short beard is absent, which makes me sad, but I know he’s following protocol for my sake. His eyes heat into a deep blue as he locks gazes with me. His jacket has been embellished with traditional Regoran pins on the lapel, to signal his new station. But I know beneath the sleeve of his jacket, he has the cuff links I bought him the night he disappeared. He wears them often, probably because I can’t keep my hands off him when I see him and think about how I almost lost him.

My father comes to a stop and it’s all I can do to break my gaze from Ryker. When I finally do, I see tears in my father’s eyes.

His voice is gruff, low enough only I can hear him. “You may be Queen of this great country, and you may soon be Ryker’s wife, but you will always be myspädbarn.”

The heat hits my face and I clench my jaw to keep from crying right there. “I will always be your baby, Father, don’t worry.”

He kisses my cheek through the thin veil, gives my hands a squeeze, and joins Mother at the first pew. I take a fortifying breath and turn to Ryker. He reaches out a hand to help me up the three wide stairs and I just know the cameras are loving his chivalry almost as much as me. I place my hand in his and don’t let go through the hour-long ceremony where we promise all manner of things, the most important of which is to love each other for all eternity.

Tears flow down my cheeks and I do my best to keep them contained. Ryker, on the other hand, nearly sobs like a baby during our personal vows. If I didn’t already love him before, the sight of such a large strong man crying over loving me would have hit my heart like a sledgehammer. As it is, I silently thank Zeke for turning me down, my mother for hiring Ryker, for the wisdom—or blind luck—I showed by opening myself up to Ryker. Even queens should have their shot at true love.

The rings are finally exchanged, the vows are done, and all that’s left are those precious seven words.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The Archbishop cracks a smile I didn’t know he was capable of. “Or should I say King and Queen.”

We don’t wait a second longer to be told what to do. Ryker lifts my veil and pulls me in for the sweetest kiss. Sweet because it’s our first as husband and wife. Sweet because even with the parade of people and cameras around us, there’s always room for love.

And sweet because while he guarded my body from the beginning, he forgot to guard his own heart.