29. Lennon
LENNON
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Lonely is the soul that supports it.
And forever grateful are the siblings spared the same fate.
—Lennon’s Secret Thoughts
T radition calls for the sons and grandsons of the monarch to walk behind the coffin of the king as it’s pulled from Rosenhall Palace to St. Benedict’s Abbey in a glass-enclosed carriage. My brothers, father, and even the king himself did this for my mother’s funeral, but my father insisted I wasn’t allowed. Today, I walk side by side with my brothers. Maddox’s hand is in mine, and my father has already been driven to the abbey to greet the foreign dignitaries as they arrive, getting him out of our hair. Rhys insisted if I wanted my husband with me, then that was what we’d do. He ignored the pushback from the palace advisers and told me to let him worry about it.
So for once in my life, I did.
I let him deal with the fallout because he’s the king.
The coronation may still be months away, but the crown is his.
From the moment my grandfather took his last breath until the moment Rhys does the same, that weight is his to bear. So we walk in line. Atticus, Rhys, me, and Maddox, with a row of my cousins behind us, and Sam and Amelia back at Lilihill House, keeping Brennan safe while we lay the longest reigning monarch the modern world has ever known to rest.
People have flocked to line the streets, just for the opportunity to pay their respects, and my chest tightens, knowing I’ll never see him again. Even if my heart believes I will in whatever comes next. Some people are so important in your life, I truly believe you find them time and time again. I squeeze Maddox’s hand, knowing this isn’t the first time I’ve loved this man.
The procession progresses slightly longer than one mile before we stop and watch as a white-gloved military regiment silently moves into place with beautiful precision.
It’s so hard to stand here, remembering the man who was heartbroken over my choice to go against my country and marry Maddox, instead of the one who used to let me sit on his lap on the throne when he and my mother were sitting for portraits. The one who would always sneak me an extra piece of cake when no one was looking. Or the one who came to see every single new ballet I danced in London.
And once the coffin has been taken down and the flag carefully folded, the soldiers stand still as we all observe a single minute of silence before they nod at my brother.
Rhys steps forward and places his palm on the casket before turning to Atticus and me.
Atticus follows Rhys’s lead and does the same.
I step forward and press my lips against the casket, then step back and take Maddox’s hand back in mine and wait for my brothers to walk ahead of us into the abbey, knowing when we walk out, the world will have changed.
The king may have died and passed the crown to my brother five days ago, but his burial signifies the end of one era and the beginning of another.
I avoid looking at the hundreds of people gathered, having no doubt Monty is among them, sitting somewhere with his family. He wouldn’t dare miss this. I, however, would be just fine never having to set my eyes on him again, so I keep my eyes straight ahead.
We make the long walk down the aisle of the abbey. The same walk I would have made on my wedding day if I had gone through with it. And once we’re in front of the archbishop, we all bow and sit down, side by side, with my father behind us.
It’s a statement.
A powerful one.
The three Windsor siblings side by side.
A strategic act made by my brother to show unity between his siblings and to elevate us above our father, who is seated behind us. There is no mistaking who the power lies with, and I will forever be grateful he allowed Maddox to be next to me. I’m not sure how I would have made it through any of this without him at my side.
The world saw me marry Maddox very visibly pregnant, even if they thought I was marrying another man. I wasn’t ashamed. I embraced it. Even if it meant giving up my family and my country. And I was willing to give it all up if it meant I got to have Maddox and Brennan. To be here with him beside me... it’s almost too much.
It’s more than I ever hoped could actually be.
The archbishop climbs the stairs to the pulpit, and we all sit. “It is in grief and with profound thanks we gather in this house of God to celebrate the life of a man who lived his life in service to his lord and his country...”
Choirs sing, and preachers of all denominations speak. Multiple eulogies are given, and I have to wipe my eyes several times. My heart aching for my grandfather, for Rhys, for the idea that one day the world will gather like this again, and what that could mean for us. And at the end of the ceremony, I’m reminded that nothing in this world is forever. Nothing but love.
The archbishop’s voice cracks as he brings us to our feet.
“Now let us remove all symbols of power from the coffin, so that Frederic may be committed to the grave as a humble servant.”
It’s the only time in my life I haven’t heard my grandfather’s title used.
Because it no longer belongs to him.
The golden staff of the office of the king is the first to be removed from the casket, followed by his jeweled scepter, and finally the coronation crown, which is placed in Rhys’s lap.
I take my brother’s hand in mine and hold on for dear life.
“Life is indeed short. It is going to end. But what you do with the years you’re given is the true measure of the man. Do well and live your life in service.” Then the archbishop looks at Rhys, and my breath catches in my throat, knowing what is coming. “Long live the King.”
* * *
Maddox
“A re you sure this needs to happen today?” I ask Rhys, most likely breaking every fucking royal protocol there’s ever been, but this is my wife we’re talking about, and I don’t give a shit what protocol says if it means protecting Lennon. “I’m worried it’s too much for her.”
“It needs to be today,” he confirms and looks past me at my wife and son talking with my mother. “Give me a few minutes, then meet me upstairs. Atticus will show you the way.”
He moves swiftly to Lennon’s side and whispers something in her ear before she passes Brennan to my mom and follows behind him.
Fuck ... This is going to piss her off, but it has to happen. My parents cross the room, stopping in front of me, and I press a kiss to Brennan’s head. “Have I said thank you?”
“More than you needed to,” Mom promises. “I was thinking about taking him back to Lilihill House and putting him down for a nap. He doesn’t need to be around this many people.”
“That’s a good idea. Make sure to take a protection officer with you,” I tell them, and Dad just shakes his head like I’m an idiot. If we were back home, I wouldn’t be concerned. But we’re not back home. “Just humor me.”
“I was just shaking my head because you act like we have a choice. Rhys’s men are so far up your son’s ass, this kid might not ever get to be alone.” He looks at me like he gets it, though, and wraps an arm around my mother as they walk away.
Good. Less people to be worried about.
I scan the room, filled with a massive amount of people, all wanting a piece of Lennon and her brothers, until I spot Atticus. It only takes a minute to get his attention and tip my chin toward the stairs.
He does the same before he excuses himself and meets me at the bottom of the staircase, clearly uncomfortable. “Does Rhys have Lennon?”
“Yeah,” I groan.
“Then let’s get this done.”
We climb the steps of Rosenhill Palace to the second floor, and I follow Atticus’s lead down a winding hallway to a closed door with a royal protection officer stationed outside. He dips his head to the prince and moves aside immediately.
“When he’s escorted up, hold him here and let us know,” Atticus instructs, and the guard tips his head again before we walk by.
“Are they not allowed to speak to you?” I ask, not following what the hell that was.
“Nah, they can speak. But I screwed that one’s sister a few months ago, and word got out. I’m pretty sure he’d shoot me if he could.”
Fuck... I look around the massive room with paintings lining the walls and stop when Rhys and Lennon come into view. My wife is clearly pissed.
“Were you part of this plan?” she demands, and Atticus takes a step back. “Oh no. You stay right there. Both of you.” Then she turns back to Rhys and points at him. “You too.”
Lennon angles herself so she’s in front of us all. “What were you thinking? If I wanted Monty dealt with, I would have done it myself. I was the one assaulted. I was the one who could have pressed charges and chose not to. What exactly do you have in mind with this little plan of yours and why do it today, of all days? Today is to celebrate Grandfather’s life.”
“Bullshit.” Rhys levels her with a cold stare. “You were going to let him get away with what he did, so you didn’t have to bring any more drama to the family. To the crown. Don’t act like it was because you didn’t want to see the prick strung up by his balls. And Grandfather hated most of the people here. Trust me. I was closer to him than anyone. He fucking hated them. What he would have liked most today was seeing the three of us together. He would have liked to see Brennan. I’d even go as far to say he’d liked to have met Maddox, if he could have without condoning your marriage. That one was going to take a little while. The three of us?—”
Atticus coughs a fake-as-fuck cough. “Ahem... Four.”
Rhys looks at me. His face set in hardened lines. “You’re right. The four of us are here, together. And Monty is downstairs. Today’s the day, princess.”
“You know... I’m starting to truly hate that title,” Lennon snaps. “It’s not the worst nickname in the world under the right circumstances, but as far as titles go, I don’t love it.”
“Fuck, man,” Atticus groans. “I hope you knew how high-maintenance she was when you married her.”
“I am worth maintaining, you shitty little wanker,” she snaps and looks between all of us with a fire flaming in her eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I don’t know why you’re mad. You won’t even be here to deal with the fallout,” Atticus adds.
Lennon softens her stance, and I see the moment she gives in. “We’ll come back more often, if you promise to visit me too.” Rhys looks unamused and maybe frustrated. There’s definitely something else there, brewing behind his eyes. Something he’s not talking about. Not with us, at least.
Pretty sure a king popping over for a visit isn’t exactly an easy thing logistically.
“Fine... I guess I’ll raise a bicoastal baby,” she smiles softly.
God, I fucking love this woman.
“Transcontinental, poppet,” Atticus teases as an attendant dressed in a formal royal-blue uniform lets himself in the room.
“Sir, Mr. Hastings is outside.”
“Please escort Mr. Hastings in.” Rhys looks at us and nods as I take Lennon’s hand and pull her against me.
I take her other hand in mine and brush my lips over her ear. “I love you, and this needed to happen.”
“If I’d have known I’d have to see him today, I’d have brought his stupid ugly ring to throw at his stupid ugly face.”
“Very mature, sister. Would you like to call him a doody head too?” Atticus jokes, and Lennon, like the proper princess she is, flips him off.
Rhys sits down on the couch while the rest of us quiet down and wait.