Royal Wedding Fiasco Read online

  Immediately, her eyes fill with suspicion. “What did you do?”

  “I’ve done nothing,” I assure her. “I’ve just been discussing possibilities.”

  “What sort of possibilities?”

  “The good kind. I think.” I reach over and cup her cheek. “Elle, I love you more than anything else in the world—except Matthew, of course. With him it’s a tie.”

  She smiles at that, but she still eyes me warily, waiting for me to go on.

  “The two of you are the most important things in my life,” I say, “and I want to make it official. I want to be a family, in every sense of the word. I want to marry you, Elle. And every day that we wait, it feels like a piece of me is still missing. A small piece, but a very important one.”

  “I understand,” she says slowly. “I feel that way, too. But what exactly are you proposing here?”

  “It has been suggested…well, that you and I consider having a double wedding with Andrew and Victoria.”

  She stares at me, and she’s silent for so long that I start to get worried. I shift in my seat, trying to figure out what best to say next, but before I say anything at all her eyes well up with tears. Suddenly, with no warning at all, she’s sobbing.

  Immediately, my brain switches into panic mode. Oh God… What have I…? Are these good tears or bad? Is she overwhelmed or overflowing with excitement? Is she angry? Elated? Confused? Do I comfort her or kiss her or quickly take all of it back?

  “Elle,” I say, caressing her cheek, trying to wipe the tears away. “My love, please tell me—”

  My words are cut off by another choking sob from her, and this one is loud enough to wake Matthew. He stirs again, his little eyes slowly opening, and the color rises quickly to his little cheeks.

  No! No no no no no no no…

  I reach for him, hoping to soothe him, but it’s too late—he’s awake, he’s confused, and his mother is sobbing. The moment I touch him, he lets out a wail that nearly splits my eardrums, and his scrunched up face goes as red as a tomato as he screams.

  Oh God. What do I…? How do I…? I turn from one to the other, unsure of who needs my attention more. This is all my fault. I should have waited. Should have eased into it. Should have known… Oh, God, I can’t bear to see either of them cry… What have I done? How do I fix this?!

  I’m frozen in place, completely paralyzed by my panic. I was not ready for this. Not ready for this at all.

  And in my distress, the only relief I get is the rather amusing realization that I want nothing more than to sink onto my knees and sob, too.

  Elle

  Motherhood has turned me into a raving lunatic.

  I can’t even say why I’m crying—no one tells you about the strange mood swings that happen in the few weeks after you have a baby.

  I bring little Matthew to my chest, softly rocking him as I try to compose myself. Leo is hunched over the edge of the sofa, his head in his hands. I could almost swear he’s trying not to cry himself.

  Somehow, I manage to balance the baby in one arm and reach over to stroke Leo’s hair with my free hand. All the while, tears are still stream down my cheeks.

  This isn’t what I was expecting at all—when Leo said he had a proposition for me, I thought it was going to be something about getting away from the palace and the baby. I know it’s been hard on him—I’ve refused the help of all the nannies and nurses that Queen Penelope has brought in. I never imagined what motherhood was going to be like, but I know I don’t want to have to rely on anyone else to care for my little son.

  And I’ve been neglecting Leo. It isn’t as though I haven’t been trying, but more often than not, any time I try to even kiss him, Matthew seems to sense that my attention isn’t completely on him. The baby will wake up and start screaming, and then most times I end up crying, too.

  Medical school doesn’t teach you about this part of parenthood.

  A date—that was all I was expecting. A dinner somewhere in the city or maybe a walk in the Elizabetta Gardens. It started snowing a few weeks ago, and I’ll admit I haven’t even had much of a chance to look outside to appreciate how beautiful Montovia must be in the winter.

  I just wanted to get away for a few hours with the man I love. I’m still wearing the ring he gave me months ago, but we never set a date for when we would actually marry. But as difficult as it’s been these past few weeks, Matthew seems to have brought us closer together than ever.

  But deep in my heart, I’ve always thought Leo was still the bad boy prince—that he’d never be fully tamed. Never really be fully mine. When he asked me to marry him months ago, I couldn’t believe it.

  Thinking about it now brings a fresh set of tears to my eyes and another choked sob escapes my lips.

  Leo lifts his head, pulling my hand into his. “I’m sorry, Elle. I’m so sorry. We don’t… We never…” He shakes his head, and I can see by the shine in his eyes that my lack of response has wounded him. “I’m sorry. I thought—”

  “I… I…” Even attempting to speak is difficult and brings more tears to my eyes. Matthew fusses for a moment, but I bounce him a few times until he calms again. “I…”

  “You don’t have to say it.” He pulls my hand to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of it. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  I shake my head vehemently. Even if I can’t get the words out, I don’t want him thinking I’m turning him down.

  “It’s all right, Elle.” He tries to give me a weak smile as he stands, kissing the back of my hand again as he does. “It was a terrible idea.”

  “No. It wasn’t.” My eyes burn again with new tears—why the hell can’t I control my emotions? “I… I think…” I suck in a deep breath, trying to control myself for a moment to at least get a complete sentence out of my mouth. “I do. I want to.”

  “You…want to?” His brow furrows for a moment before he sits next to me on the sofa.

  This brings another loud wail from our son.

  I bounce the baby again against my chest, rocking him back and forth. I’ve been able to learn his cries more and more in the past couple of weeks, and I know this one is more about Leo taking attention from him than it is about him being hungry or wet.

  Hopefully our son will learn to share me soon.

  Leo is looking at me expectantly, and my gaze slides between him and our baby.

  I sniffle a few times as I nod. “I can’t… I can’t seem to talk. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I don’t…”

  His smile is so wide, so brilliant and genuine that I think I might cry again.

  “I didn’t… I didn’t think we were ever…” I shake my head as my emotions start to take over again. “I guess I didn’t think you would ever really pull the trigger.”

  He laughs, squeezing my hand. “I want to be with you forever. And I want the entire world to know it.”

  I smile through my tears, nodding. “Me, too. I just…” I look down at myself. Besides the fact that I’m a blubbering, emotional, and hormonal mess, I’m also literally a mess. My shirt has no fewer than three spit-up stains, and I’m damp with perspiration. My body still isn’t back to its normal shape, and I feel like I’m leaking more milk than I’m feeding to Matthew.

  Leo seems to read my thoughts. “You’re beautiful. More beautiful than I’ve ever seen you. And if you don’t want to do it now—if you’d rather wait a few more months—I understand. But I thought this would be the perfect opportunity. And we wouldn’t have to do any of the planning…”

  “And Victoria? She’s all right with this?” A pang of guilt twists in my stomach. I’ve barely seen her the past few weeks. She was with me in the hospital after the baby was born, but I’ve basically been a hermit in this suite since we returned. I know it’s hard for her—seeing newborn children. She doesn’t have to say it—I can see it in her eyes. If I could have one wish, it would be for her and Andrew to have a child of their own, but it doesn’t seem meant to be.

 
; Leo gives me a small shrug. “Andrew says she’s completely overwhelmed. And that she never wanted a wedding this large.” His smile falls a little. “We’ll have to be prepared for that. Mother seems to have gone a bit mad with the preparations.”

  I lift a brow. “She helped to plan William and Justine’s first wedding, didn’t she? That didn’t seem over the top…”

  He rubs his jaw. “An arranged marriage is a completely different circumstance. And she only had a few weeks to plan that one. This one has been in the planning stages for months.”

  I nod. “But two couples…two brides. The attention wouldn’t be so focused on either of us. I guess…I can see why it would be a good idea. I wouldn’t want that much attention on me, either.”

  Leo grins. “You’ll be the most beautiful woman in the room.” He tips his head to mine, kissing me on the temple. “To me, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. And you’re more beautiful today than I’ve ever seen you.”

  I glance down again at my soiled shirt before I look up into his eyes. “I love you.”

  “Not nearly as much as I love you.” He grins. “So is that a yes?”

  I nod, tears coming to my eyes once more. “Yes. It’s definitely a yes.”

  Andrew

  It’s settled. Victoria and I will share our wedding day with Leopold and Elle, and that should make this event easier on all of us. Our mother was a little overwhelmed when she first heard the news—she gave me a lecture about making such a major change at the last minute—but she came around quickly. I think she’s excited to finally see Leopold married, especially now that Matthew is here. My father, too, seemed pleased by the news. He was never particularly happy about having his grandson born out of wedlock.

  Victoria seems happier, too. She’ll no longer be at the center of our wedding spectacle—not only will a second bride take some of the attention off her, but we’ve also decided that the wedding will be the perfect day to present Matthew to the general public. We’ll have one mad day of publicity, and then all of us can more or less return to our usual lives.

  Until then, though, we still have a few more decisions to make. Today, my mother has asked that Victoria and I make our final choice about which appetizers will be served at the primary reception banquet. There are a dozen options sitting on the table in front of us, and Victoria and I have spent the last half hour trying them all.

  “Personally, the seared scallops are my favorite,” I say.

  “Those were good,” Victoria says, nodding. “And maybe the vol-au-vents as well? So we have a vegetarian option?”

  “Sounds perfect.” I look up at the chef. “The scallops and the vol-au-vents, then.”

  “Very good, Your Highness,” she says with a bow. “Splendid choices.”

  As the attendants clear the trays away, I turn to Victoria. “How was your fitting this morning?”

  “Great,” she says. “The dress fits perfectly.” Her gaze shifts to one of the departing trays of food. “But if we keep having tastings, I’m not sure if that’ll stay true. How many more are there?”

  “Entrées next. Dessert will be tomorrow.” I smile. “It’s good to see you looking a little less stressed.”

  “There are worse things in the world than planning my wedding to the man I love.” She steps closer to me, looking up at me through her lashes. “But mostly I just keep reminding myself that soon all of this madness will be over, and I’ll have you all to myself again.”

  “And I intend on taking full advantage of that on our honeymoon,” I say, my voice low. We leave for the Maldives two days after the ceremony, and I’ve been desperately counting down the days. In an attempt to make our wedding night feel special, Victoria and I decided to hold off on sharing a bed during the six weeks leading up to the wedding. I thought it would be a small sacrifice, but I was wrong—it’s been pure torture. Especially considering our rather shaky relations with Rosvalia up until very recently—there were times, these last few weeks, when I would have given anything for the comfort of Victoria’s arms. And when she looks at me the way she’s looking at me now, the blood just rushes straight to my cock.

  “Stop teasing me,” I say to her.

  Her eyes widen in mock innocence. “How am I teasing you? I’m not doing anything at all.”

  “You know exactly what you’re doing,” I growl, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her against me. “We probably have about ten minutes before they return with the entrees. That’s plenty of time for me to push you down on the table and—”

  “Oh, I’m glad the two of you are still here!” comes a voice from the door. My mother sweeps into the room, carrying some fabric over her arm. “You have to see this.”

  Reluctantly, I release my grip on Victoria, turning to face my mother. She comes toward us, lifting the fabric toward us. Now that she’s holding it up, I see that it’s a small gown—like a christening gown, except with gold embroidery all over.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” my mother says. “The tailor just finished it. Won’t Matthew look adorable in this?”

  “It’s…charming,” I say. I’m hardly an authority on baby clothes.

  But Victoria smiles and crosses over to my mother, taking the little gown in her hands. “It’s lovely.”

  “Look—he’s even embroidered our family crest here,” my mother says, pointing to a spot near the top. “I wanted to show you first, my dear, since this was your wedding first and foremost. You get to make the final decision.”

  “I think it’s great,” she says. “Perfect.” She’s still smiling, but I sense something in her voice—something that isn’t entirely happy. I step forward, meaning to ask her if she really approves, but she glances at me in a way that makes me bite my tongue. If my mother notices the look that passes between us, she says nothing.

  “In that case,” my mother says, “I think I’ll go show Elle. I’ll be meeting with the groundskeepers this afternoon—let me know if you think of anything you want me to tell them.”

  She’s gone as quickly as she came, leaving us alone in the room once more.

  And I turn to Victoria. “What is it? Did you not like it?”

  “It’s nothing,” she says with a casual wave of her hand. “It was beautiful, really.”

  “But you’re not happy.”

  “I’m perfectly happy. We’re getting married in less than two weeks, aren’t we?”

  I frown. “Victoria, I know you well enough by now to know when you’re lying to me. What is it?”

  She hesitates. “I…”

  “You what?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m not sure how to say it without sounding silly and emotional. It’s just…I guess I keep forgetting that Matthew will be involved in this.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No, it’s just…” She turns back to me. “I’ve known for years that I could never have kids, and I thought I’d made peace with it. But since Matthew was born…” Her eyes fall. “It’s been heartbreaking, seeing him. For the first time in my life, I really, truly understand what I’ve lost.”

  “Victoria…” I say, reaching toward her. I try to pull her into my arms, but she won’t let me.

  “I know I’m not the only one who’s lost something,” she says. “We both have.”

  “And I won’t pretend we haven’t lost something, but I, for one, have gained even more.” I touch her cheek.

  “So you’re still okay with never having that? You’re still willing to promise the rest of your life to someone who can never give you a family?”

  “I have a family. And you are the most important part of it.” Still, I know exactly the pain she speaks of—every time I look at our new nephew, something aches deep inside me.

  But that ache is nothing next to the intense love I feel for Victoria.

  “Are you asking me if I still want to marry you?” I say. “Because there is nothing I want more.” I pull her toward me again, and this time she doesn’t resist. “
I love you. So, so much.”

  “I love you, too,” she whispers.

  I lean down to kiss her, but before my mouth touches hers, the door opens again. The chef has returned, an army of tray-bearing servants behind her.

  Victoria gives me a quick peck and then spins around, a smile plastered on her face again.

  “This all smells wonderful,” she says cheerfully.

  I smile too, willing to commit to the task at hand, but I keep watching Victoria out of the corner of my eye. I have a feeling our conversation has only scraped the surface of what she’s truly thinking and feeling, and God help me, I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

  I only hope I get the chance to do it before the wedding.

  Victoria

  We finally settle on three entrees and leave the small dining room.

  I’m not sure whose idiotic idea it was to not sleep together until the wedding, but I’m definitely regretting it now. I didn’t anticipate how difficult making all of these preparations was going to be—and I could use a good distraction right about now.

  Andrew takes my hand as we walk through the halls toward the guest suite where I’ve been living these past six weeks. I’m still amazed at the thrill of electricity that bolts up my arm at his touch—I’m just as attracted to him now as I was that first night we spent together in the cave.

  He smiles down at me, though it’s almost as if he’s looking through me, he’s so distracted.

  I squeeze his hand. “What is it?”

  “Hm?” He gives me the smallest of smiles. Andrew may have softened a little in the months I’ve known him, though in many ways, he’s the same as he’s always been. He holds his emotions in far too often—and I’ve come to learn that when he’s worried about me, he’s even more likely to bottle things up.

  “You seem…distracted.”

  “Ah.” We slow our pace as he looks behind him, as though he’s turning to check to be sure no one is listening. “Perhaps it would be best if we had this conversation in private.”