The Prince's Bride (Part 2) Page 7

  “Leave your purse. Iskandar, do not let it out of your sight. It is important,” he said quickly, and he reached over to grab it from me.

  There was no time for me even to think. All of a sudden, the door opened, and the sunlight and fresh air came in. Gale stepped forward, outstretching his hand in front of him. And for the first time in my life, I was grateful for all the pageant practice I went through as a child, as well as my mother training me on how to get in and out of cars in heels.

  Holding the flowers, I exited the vehicle. With Gale holding one hand, I heard people's voices and the clicks of cameras behind me. I wanted to look back but remembered what Gale had said, and instead, I looked at my feet, stepping up the polished stone stairs, walking forward. I realized I would have no idea if I were giving the flowers to the queen since my head was down. I had to trust that Gale was leading me to the right place. It was the longest and shortest walk of my life.

  “Your Majesty,” Gale said to his mother, “I present, Odette Rochelle Wyntor of Sunrise, Washington.”

  He let go of my hand, and I figured that was my cue, so I curtsied—or did what I thought was one—putting one leg in front of the other and bending down as low as I could, bowing my head down further, lifting the flowers up to her in front of me.

  It wasn’t as quick as I thought it would be.

  I waited there for a minute before I felt another hand on top of mine as the flowers were slowly taken.

  “Welcome to Bellecoeur Palace, Odette Rochelle Wyntor.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

  I wasn’t sure if that meant I could rise, so I stood still.

  “You may rise.”

  I looked up to the older woman as I stood up slowly. She gave me a small smile and a nod.

  “Thank you.” Was I supposed to say thank you to the queen?

  “Come,” she said, and I followed her up the stairs.

  When we got in front of the door, we turned back to face where I had walked from, and I could see people were already at the gates. Not five or ten people, more like a hundred, maybe two. How? Everything just happened this morning. When I saw a photographer step forward, I tried to keep my face pleasant and free of all thoughts.

  There was no counting of the snapping of photos. Just as quickly as he came forward, he moved to the side. The car Gale and I had arrived in was now long gone. The people behind the gate were all that was before us now.

  Do not wave your hand like someone cut it off. Be slow, graceful, like you are petting the air, and remember, we use our secret smiles for the judges, Odette, okay? Show me your secret smile.

  My mother’s voice came to mind as the queen lifted her hand to wave. Raising my own slowly, gracefully, just like when I was a kid, I petted the air and used my secret smile, which had been her way of saying, do not smile with my teeth showing. We were like that for a few moments before the queen spoke.

  “Let us go.”

  And how everyone else heard her was beyond me, but as she turned, everyone else did, so I did too. She walked forward, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to, but I did anyway. When we stepped inside, I noticed an M on the stone at my feet and a chandelier above me, hanging from a painted ceiling. In front of me was a large, long, marble staircase that went up to a platform where the stairs were divided into two different sets before proceeding up the sides. In the middle stood a white statue, which looked like an altar with red drapes behind it and the family crest under it.

  “Less than seven hours, Gale?”

  I jumped slightly, looking to see where that stern thunderous voice had come from, but the only person to speak was his mother. She handed off the flowers to some gray-haired woman as she spun on her heel to face him. The look of gentle serenity was gone. It wasn’t only her who had changed. Eliza stepped up, put down the dog, and kicked off her heels, sighing as her bare feet touched the stone.

  “Six hours and fifteen minutes to be precise, Mother, and I had things to do!” Eliza complained, taking off her earrings and putting them into the hand of a woman beside her.

  “Oh please, as if you ever get out of bed by noon anyway, Eliza,” Gale shot back.

  “I do too!”

  “Yeah, sure, and I am marrying the pope.”

  “If you were, I would like more than six hours to prepare, Gale,” his mother snapped at him. “Everyone in the palace has been running around since dawn, preparing for something that should have been arranged at least three weeks before. Normally, this would have been on the calendar for months. Poor Julianne nearly had to run down 12th Street in her pajamas, screaming bloody murder to find me this purple dress! It does not even zip! I am wearing a coat because it did does not zip! Look what you have brought me to!”

  He snorted when he noticed the top of her back as she showed him.

  “You are laughing? Laughing at your mother? Your mother, who has had her entire day thrown for a loop because you decided six hours and fifteen minutes ago that you wanted to bring your fiancée here!”

  “Mother, forgive us,” he said with a large grin on his face. “However, I had to act quickly, or she would most definitely have left me.”

  “She should leave you now! You gave her no time to prepare, no instruction, no guidance, no practice. Let us thank heaven that she had received some formal training she could rely on before she met you.” Her blue eyes snapped to me. “Your wave and smile were very well done, my dear. However, your curtsy needs a bit of work. It does not need to be so low; nevertheless, it will do.”

  “Thank you—”

  “Do you know what would have happened had there been any mistake?” Her attention and lecture returned to Gale. “It would have been news for days. The last thing you both need is a further spectacle!”

  “Yes, Mother, I understand, and it will not happen again.”

  “Of course, it will not happen again. You only get one introduction. That is why it is so important!”

  “Mother, I beg of you, spare me.” Gale reached out, taking her hands. “If not for my sake, then for Odette’s. I believe you are scaring her.”

  “I’m good. I’m glad someone else yells at you. She is absolutely right,” I said louder, and when I spoke, everyone who was there, with the expectation of the guards, turned their eyes to me. Was I not supposed to speak yet?

  “And she is wise, I see. That is very good.” The queen nodded at me.

  He gasped. “Odette has not even called her own mother.”

  “Did you give her time?”

  “You did not give me time.” We both spoke at the same time.

  “Dear God.” He looked between the both of us in horror. “I am marrying my mother.”

  “If you could only be so lucky.” The queen sighed.

  “And I did give you time, Odette. You said you were saving your energy,” Gale said to me.

  I looked away, scratching my ear as if I did not hear him.

  “Oh, okay, I see you are taking sides with my mother?”

  I looked down at the dog, now sniffing at my heels. “Hi, boy.”

  “It’s a she,” Eliza said as I glanced back up to find her arms crossed over her body and her head held high. “And both she and I are wondering what changed your mind so quickly? Yesterday, you were all high-and-mighty about how you would not be here, and yet here you are. So, were you messing with me yesterday? Or did you just want to see the palace before leaving him?”

  “Eliza—”

  “I am definitely here for the palace,” I said, interrupting Gale before he spoke up. “Will you be giving me the tour?”

  Again, a few eyes fell on me in shock. And I really wished I would stop talking so I could figure out what I should be saying, but I guessed it was still the adrenaline pumping through me. Eliza’s eyes narrowed on me.

  “I will give you a tour if you sing for me.”

  Gale tried to cut in again. “Eliza, she is not your personal—”

  “My voice is worth more than a tour, so we will have t
o come to some new arrangement. But if you are in, I am in.” I held out my hand to her.

  She looked at it and then me.

  “I knew you would be cool.” She shook it once and bent down to pick up the dog. “Persephone, say hi to our new sister.”

  “Eliza, that is enough. They both have things they must do,” her mother said as she walked up to me, her hands clasped together. She looked me up and down. “You are very pretty.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I was not trying to compliment you. I was stating a fact,” the queen replied, her voice unnerving. “More facts, your jewelry and clothing choice was appropriate enough, though very flashy and the color a little bright for a first introduction. Nevertheless, it will do. It has to. You did well under the circumstances. However, today is the easiest day you shall have for quite some time. Being pretty is not enough. Many people are pretty. You need to be smart and decisive. I do know the circumstances which caused today, but they cannot happen again. We have order and protocol here. And now that you have crossed those gates and entered this threshold, you are beholden to them as we all are. Am I understood?”

  “Yes...” I nodded. “Your Highness?”

  “Majesty,” she corrected. “You will be given tutors. You must learn quickly. Now you must both go see the king and take more photos with the press with your ring.” Her eyes shot down to my hand. “Where is the ring?”

  “Here, Mother,” Gale stated, opening the box for her to see.

  “Ambrose, explain everything to her while I change from this ridiculous outfit,” she said, turning away from me and going up the stairs with Eliza. The welcoming party that had come to see me all went with her or disappeared through some door or down a hallway.

  In her place, a hefty but tall man with white hair and a mustache so thick it looked like fur on his lips stood in front of me.

  “Odette,” Gale said when he returned to my side. “This is Thomas Ambrose, whom we call Ambrose or Mr. Ambrose, whichever you prefer. He is the Head Secretary of Palace Affairs. He chooses every personal secretary for the royal family and acts as the secretary to the king.”

  “Miss Wyntor.” He nodded at me. “I have a list of personal secretaries for you to choose from. Until that moment, however, I shall be guiding you through this afternoon’s itinerary.”

  He gave me a tablet to look at, and there was everything, time stamped.

  12:00 p.m. Miss Wyntor arrives.

  12:01 – 12:10 p.m. Miss Wyntor in the company of Her Majesty, the queen.

  12:11 – 12:16 p.m. Audience with the king.

  12:20 – 12:30 p.m. Audience with the press.

  12:35 – 1:55 p.m. Official palace engagement photos

  2:00 p.m. Tea and lunch with the queen.

  I glanced over at Gale, and he just nodded as if he knew what I wanted to say.

  “We must get going to be on time,” Ambrose said, making space for Gale and me to walk forward. “The crown handpicks the reporters who will be present. Normally, there is more time, and you would have received questions ahead of time. But they are simple. How do you feel? Are you happy? Is the wedding date set yet? The answer to that question is no. Then Prince Galahad will say, ‘When we set a date, we will inform the public.’ You are advised to smile widely like this is all a fairy tale. When it is over, you will go to the gardens for photos. Gowns were brought in and are waiting for you. After that, you shall rejoin the queen for further instructions on your day.”

  He checked his watch, and Gale squeezed my hand and leaned in, whispering, “Just in case you are worried that the dresses will not fit, do not worry, they will. He was the one who created the profile on you.”

  It was him?

  “His Majesty is not having the best of days,” the nurse said to me as she came out of the room.

  “Even if the sovereign were on his deathbed, so long as they are the sovereign, a new member of the family must meet them. It is tradition,” Ambrose said, and there were days I wondered if he cared about us or if he cared about tradition more.

  The nurse looked at me, and I nodded for her to open the door. When she did, I felt my heart ache. There was my father, pacing back and forth in his robe, his hair a mess, and his eyes almost crazed.

  “Father?” I called out to him. This time, he heard me, and his head whipped to me as he came over directly.

  “Gale! There you are. Where is your brother? I keep asking for him, and this woman”—he pointed to the nurse—”tells me I cannot see him now. Go get Arthur. We have work to do.”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I let go of Odette’s hand and moved to him. “Arthur is busy, Father.”

  “Busier than me? I am the king, and I am searching for him. Bring him now!” he hollered. But he paused and looked behind me. “And who is this? How can she just enter my room? Guards!”

  “Father—Father, she is my fiancée.”

  He looked at me as if I were mad and as if he had not all but threatened to banish me had I not agreed to marry her months ago. “Fiancée? Are you insane? Your brother is not yet even married, and you have a fiancée?”

  “Father, Arthur is married. His wife is Sophia De Loutherbergh. You gave her the title of Duchess of Elmburgh on their wedding day, remember?” Please, today of all days, remember.

  He stared at me, and for a split second, I thought—I hoped it was coming back to him. However, he brushed my hands away.

  “I did no such thing. I forbid you from marrying this woman or anyone else. Honestly, Galahad, what is the matter with you? Is she even Ersovian?”

  “Father!”

  “Do not raise your voice at me, boy!” he hollered. “Take your companion out of here, or I will have her thrown out! Then get your brother so we can discuss what to do about your foolish behavior and complete disregard for common sense! Does she—”

  “Father, we shall be going.” I bowed with my hand over my chest, quickly taking her arm and pulling her out of the room. I could not even bear to look at Odette when the door closed behind us. What was I supposed to say to her?

  “Are you all right?” she whispered beside me.

  “Am I?” I gasped, meeting her gaze. “Are you? Odette, I am so sorry!”

  “You do not have to apologize,” she said though I could tell from her eyes that she was hurt.

  “Yes, I do.” That was worse than it could have possibly been. Months ago, he was the one asking me—no, ordering that I marry or risk banishment. He did not say a word regarding whether she was Ersovian or not then! How could he—

  “Hey.” She squeezed my hand to get my attention.

  Intent upon looking at her, I felt the tightness in my chest loosen a bit.

  “Yeah. It hurt hearing. And if it were someone else, someone not sick, I would be more upset, and I would have said words back. But he looked so confused and scared. And he was calling out to a son he could not reach. He is ill, so I think he deserves compassion.”

  “He is reaching out for his favorite son.” I frowned, too embarrassed by all of this. “I know he loved me, but Arthur was his favorite.”

  “Loves,” she corrected me. “He loves you. He’s not dead, just not well.”

  “But Arthur is dead,” I whispered. “And when we told him that, my father got so much worse. He broke down, and since then, he has not had one clear day. I have told everyone never to bring it up again to him. But now he just keeps looking for him, and I do not know what to do.”

  “I do not know what to tell you, either,” she whispered. “So hopefully, standing here with you is enough for now.”

  “It is. It is more than enough.”

  It was everything, giving me hope for the future.

  Chapter 7

  It was 1:53 p.m.

  Since I arrived, I had been taken from one ornate room or garden or hallway to another room or garden or hallway, smiling for the camera as I went. Everything was going exactly as Mr. Ambrose had scheduled for me. It was like I was in some sort of m
achine, everyone and everything automatically adjusting then readjusting as I either entered or left. I wasn’t sure what it was like to take engagement photos, but I doubt other people had three maids—one for accessories, one for the dress, and the other to fix their hair. I don’t think the woman knew what to do with mine, so she just fluffed it a bit. All I had to do was point to what I wanted to wear. There was no one to ask their opinions, and no one offered any. If I had asked them to cover me in all the jewels there, they would have done it without a word. However, we were now finished without any issues. It was time for lunch with the queen, and I felt like that might be more of a battle.

  “Do not worry.” Gale smiled, letting go of my hand. “My mother is harmless. You two will get along fine.”

  “Are you leaving?”

  “For a bit. I do not want to, but my keepers will not let me off any longer.” He nodded his head over to Iskandar and a short man checking his watch restlessly while waiting. “I will meet you when I finish. Don’t stress. Everything will be okay.”

  I nodded. We broke away from each other, and Gale looked at Mr. Ambrose. “Take care of her, Ambrose.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  He gave me another glance before moving away. Iskandar and the short man stepped aside for him to go; however, he paused and turned back, his gaze returning to Mr. Ambrose.

  “She is to get a staff immediately,” Gale said.

  “Yes, I have people waiting.”

  “Assign Wolfgang as her secretary.”

  “Princess Eliza—”

  “She will not mind, and if she does, I will speak to her.”

  It was odd seeing him like this; I was used to seeing him as just—him. However, the way he stood, the way he spoke, the command in his voice. There was none of his usual humor or playfulness. He did not question, he ordered, and everyone hovered around him, waiting to follow his commands.

  “Yes, sir,” Mr. Ambrose replied, nodding.

  And as Gale walked away, I watched those who were not walking with him stand at attention at the other end of the red-carpeted hallway, bowing their heads as he walked past. Once again, it hit me. This wasn’t some fairy tale. This wasn’t just for show. This was serious. For these people, for this country, he was almost almighty. He was their future king.