“It’s okay.” I squeezed his hand. “You did what you had to do. I was upset when you first told me, but it all worked out, and I enjoy being queen…for the most part. Especially now that Erhall is no longer Speaker.”
Erhall had lost his seat by half a point. I’d be lying if I said the news hadn’t given me immense pleasure.
I had, however, worried Nikolai would be upset or jealous about the repeal. Would he be bitter I got to stay with Rhys and keep the crown? But he’d been nothing but supportive, and he’d admitted he enjoyed his new life more than he’d expected. I think part of him was actually relieved.
Nikolai had grown up thinking he wanted the throne because he didn’t have a choice to not want it, and now that he was freed from those expectations, he was thriving. Meanwhile, I’d taken up the mantle and grown into the role.
Ironic, the way things turned out.
“Yes, he was a bit of a toad, wasn’t he?” Nikolai grinned and glanced over my shoulder. “Ah, it seems my time is up. I’ll talk to you later. I need to save Sabrina before Grandfather forces her to name our baby Sigmund after our great-great-uncle.” He hesitated. “Are you happy, Bridget?”
I squeezed his hand again, a messy clog of emotion tangling in my throat. “I am.”
Did I feel like the weight of the world was on my shoulders sometimes? Yes. Did I get angry, frustrated, and stressed? Yes. But so did a lot of people. The important thing was, I no longer felt trapped. I’d learned to master my circumstances instead of letting them master me, and I had Rhys by my side. No matter how terrible of a day I had, I could go home to someone I loved who loved me back, and that made all the difference.
Nikolai must’ve heard the sincerity in my voice, because his face relaxed. “Good. That’s all I need to know.” He kissed my cheek before he beelined to where a five-months-pregnant Sabrina sat with our grandfather, who’d spent his post-ruling days fussing over his future great-grandchild and trying to find a suitable hobby to fill his time.
Edvard had forced Rhys to teach him how to draw for a few weeks before it became clear his talents did not lie in the artistic realm. He’d since moved on to archery, and I’d had to add a hazard pay bonus for the staff accompanying him to practice.
I turned to see what had made Nikolai leave, and my face broke into a smile when I saw Rhys approaching.
“Long time no see,” I teased. We’d only had one dance together before we were pulled away by various friends and family.
“Don’t remind me. My own wedding, and I barely see my wife,” he grumbled, but his frown eased when he drew me into his arms. “We should’ve eloped.”
“The palace would’ve had something to say about that.”
“Fuck the palace.”
I stifled a laugh. “Rhys, you can’t say that. You’re the Prince Consort now.” The King Consort title didn’t exist in Eldorra, so even though I was the queen, he was called the Prince Consort.
“Which means I can say it even more than before.” Rhys grazed my jaw with his lips, and goosebumps of pleasure dotted my arms. “Speaking of Prince Consort…what benefits come with the position?”
“Um.” I tried to think through the fog in my head as he caressed the nape of my neck. “A crown, a lovely room in the palace, medical benefits…”
“Boring. Boring. Even more boring.”
I laughed. “What do you want then?”
Rhys lifted his head, his eyes gleaming. “I want to bend—”
“Hi guys, I’m so sorry for interrupting.” Ava appeared beside us. She looked lovely in her mint green bridesmaid dress, but her face was etched with concern. “Have you seen Jules and Josh? I can’t find them anywhere.”
“She’s afraid they’ve murdered each other,” Alex added, coming up behind her.
Ava rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Not by much. I saw Jules with a knife earlier.”
“I hope they haven’t. Bad press if there’s a murder at my wedding,” I joked. “But no, I haven’t seen them. Sorry.”
Still, I swept my eyes around the room just in case.
Booth, whom I’d insisted attend as a guest instead of a guard, was deep in conversation with his wife and Emma, who’d flown in a few days ago so we could catch up before the wedding. Apparently, she’d gotten more attached to Meadow’s cuddliness and Leather’s foul mouth than expected, and she’d adopted both from the shelter. I was delighted, especially when Emma promised to send me pictures and videos of them often.
Steffan was dancing with Malin. I’d called him after my press conference to apologize for not giving him a heads up, but he hadn’t been upset at all. He said it’d given him the courage to stand up to his father, and considering he was attending the most publicized event of the year with Malin, it must’ve all worked out.
Christian stood in the shadows, chatting with Andreas, but his eyes strayed to something—someone—on the dance floor. I followed his gaze and winced when I saw Stella.
That’s not good.Or maybe I was reading too much into the situation.
Even Mikaela was in attendance, hanging out with some of our old school friends. I’d invited her as an olive branch, but it would take a while before I trusted her again.
Almost everyone who played a major role in my life was there…except Jules and Josh.
“I haven’t seen them either,” Rhys said.
Ava sighed. “Thanks. I just wanted to check. Sorry for bothering you, and congrats again!” She dragged Alex away, probably to look for her brother and Jules, even though Alex looked like he would rather eat nails.
“Well, that ruined the mood,” Rhys said dryly. “We can’t even have a conversation without getting interrupted.”
“Perhaps we should wait until after the reception because that’ll keep happening. I already see Freja coming toward us. Unless…” I lowered my voice, a spark of mischief kindling inside me. “We hide.”
We stared at each other for a beat before a slow smile spread across his face. “I like the way you think, princess.”
Rhys left first, slipping out under the auspices of using the restroom, and I followed soon after. We couldn’t be gone long, but we could steal a few moments for ourselves.
“Your Majesty!” Freja called as I passed her. “Where are you going? We need to discuss—”
“Ladies’ room. I’ll be back.” I quickened my steps and contained my laughter until I reached the small drawing room where Rhys was waiting.
“It’s like we’re sneaking around again.” I shut the door behind me, my heart racing with the twin thrills of finally being alone with him and doing something we weren’t supposed to do.
“Just like old times,” he drawled. The lights were off, but enough moonlight filtered through the curtains for me to see the carved planes of his face and the tender heat in his eyes.
“So, tell me.” I looped my arms around his neck. “Was this where you expected to end up as a kid? Hiding in a royal drawing room with your wife on the night of your wedding?”
“Not exactly.” Rhys brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “But someone once told me we always end up where we’re meant to be, and this is where I’m meant to be. With you.”
Forget butterflies. An entire flock of birds took flight in my stomach, soaring into the clouds and taking me with them. “Mr. Larsen, I do believe you’re a secret romantic after all.”
“Don’t tell anyone.” He cupped my ass and squeezed. “Or I’ll have to spank you again.”
I choked out a laugh right before his mouth crashed down on mine and everything else—Freja, the reception, the hundreds of people gathered in the ballroom just a few doors down—ceased to exist.
Kidnapping, blackmail, betrayal…our path to where we were now was anything but conventional. I wasn’t a storybook princess, and Rhys wasn’t Prince Charming.
I didn’t want us to be.
Because while what we had wasn’t a traditional fairytale by any means, it was ours. And it was forever.
THE END