Page 163 of Royal Bargain

“Nope. That’s the look of a woman who knows she’s making the right choice.” She squeezes my shoulder. “I missed you, you know.”

I look up at her in the mirror. “I missed you too.”

We’d only been friends for a short time before everything fell apart. But Clary’s kindness had stayed with me like the echo of a lullaby. Even after we stopped talking, I remembered how safe she made me feel.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For disappearing. For lying. For dragging you into all of this.”

Clary shakes her head. “You were protecting yourself. And now look at you.” She grins. “You’re about to become a Brannagan.”

“I think I already did the hard part,” I say, glancing down at my engagement ring—and the matching little flower crown waiting beside it for Lily.

The door opens and Sasha steps in, holding two cups of coffee and a garment bag slung over her arm. “You weren’t going to start without me, right?”

Clary smiles. “Perfect timing.”

I stand and hug my sister tightly. “Thanks for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She pulls back, her voice softer. “You deserve a little happiness, Ana.”

It still feels strange to hear her say that—to be met with love instead of judgment from someone who shares my blood. But that’s why today matters. Because it isn’t just about me and Liam.

It’s about building something new.

Something stronger.

Something ours.

A knock on the doorframe makes us all turn. Darcy stands there, elegant and composed in her pale gold dress. Her hair is pinned up, and she holds a small makeup kit in one hand.

“Clary said you needed an extra pair of hands,” she says, and her eyes scan me—careful, observant.

“She’s the bride,” Clary says, motioning her in. “Be nice.”

Darcy steps closer, her smile polite but guarded. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me here.”

“I wasn’t sure either,” I admit. “But I’d like to get to know you.”

She tilts her head, studying me a moment longer. “You love Liam?”

“With everything I have.”

Darcy nods. “Then that’s a good place to start.”

The sun filtersthrough the trees, dappling the Brannagan lawn in soft light. Rows of white folding chairs line the grass, simple floral garlands tied to their backs. It’s not extravagant. It’s not loud.

But it’s perfect.

Lily is in Clary’s arms near the front, wearing her tiny flower crown, babbling softly as if she knows this is important. Darcy stands just behind Clary, holding the bouquet Sasha helped me pick out that morning.

And at the end of the aisle, Liam waits for me.

In a dark suit, no tie, the top button of his shirt undone, his hair tousled like he ran his fingers through it too many times. He looks nervous. He looks wrecked. He looks like he can’t believe he gets to have this moment.

Neither can I.

“Ready?” my father murmurs beside me.

I nod, surprised by the swell of emotion in my chest. I didn’t think I’d want this. Him. Giving me away. But there’s something grounding in the weight of his arm, in the quiet way he walks with me.