Epilogue
Penelope
One Year Later
Anchored along rolling hills by sweeping stone walls, the Amari Castle in the French mountains looked like it was plucked
from a fairy tale. Ivy vines, lush and green, climbed up the exterior, while the soaring ceiling and archways stood in grandeur
inside.
I walked briskly through a long corridor, glancing out the large windows along the way. Outside, just in front of the acres
of vineyard vines, the ceremony was being arranged. The elaborate altar sat prominently in front of carefully arranged rows
of seating.
I continued on, knowing the groom was nervous. And it was rather adorable.
“Is she okay?” Henry turned immediately at the creaky wooden door to the room in the castle that the wedding coordinator designated
as the groom’s holding area.
Sloan, Xander, Marcus, and I all congregated in the room while we waited for the ceremony to begin. The other three played
with baby Meera rather than helping the groom remain calm and I felt a little bad for Henry.
“She’s perfectly well,” I answered.
Henry seemed nervous but not about getting married. More so about how Selena was doing.
“Yeah?” He remained tense, but the lines along his forehead disappeared.
I nodded and Xander crossed the room to me, closing the door as I stepped further inside.
“Feeling any better?” Xander asked me. His voice—deep and strong when it was serious—always sent a delightful shudder down
my spine.
He ran his hand along my belly. Now well into my second trimester, the telltale curve at just the right spot along my dress
gave me away. That or the fact that Xander’s hand was permanently affixed to my stomach whenever he was within arm’s reach.
“Yes, I just needed some fresh air,” I excused loudly for everyone to hear because the entire family began to get just as
overly protective when they heard that we were expecting. “And a walk. It’s a lovely day.”
A warm summer wedding along the slopes of the Vosges Mountains was both picturesque and a great place to settle some of the
lingering nausea.
“Henry, if Selena didn’t run away when Mom encouraged her to start on the Amari heir at any time,” Sloan said from her seat
beside her husband on the chaise along the wall. She looked down at her daughter, Meera, fussing quietly in a bassinet. “She’s
not running away now.”
Marcus chuckled. The two were completely and utterly enamored with their three-month-old, rightfully so, it was almost impossible
to get a straight conversation out of either.
“And over the mountains would be the hardest way to do it,” Marcus added, picking up a temperamental Meera, who immediately calmed in her father’s arms. He rocked her gently. “If she really wanted to run away, she’d have done it at the prewedding events in Paris last week.”
Henry’s unsure look went back to me, apparently the only member of the family who was here to make him feel better.
“Selena is practically giddy,” I assured him, walking over to the bar cart and handing him the glass he hadn’t touched. Selena
was a vision in her lace wedding dress, not a single concern on her face, only a quiet excitement that was so apparent it
filled the bridal ready room. “She and Isabelle are giggling over something about the throne room.”
He smiled with obvious relief. “Thank you for checking on her.”
I nodded.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Xander asked again, concern running deep in his mossy green eyes.
We found out I was pregnant in Morocco. I’d always wanted to go and so we spent a couple of months there working and living
without much plan at all. About halfway through the stay, I was racked with terrible nausea and fatigue.
I was a couple of months pregnant.
“I’m sure, darling,” I reassured him, reaching my hand into the inside pocket of his tux where I knew he probably put those
ginger candies that settled my stomach. I smiled when I was right and pulled one out. “The mountain air does wonders.”
Once we knew I was pregnant, we decided to head home to tell everyone and prepare the penthouse. Arabella was over the moon
when we told her. At the time, I wanted to nest a bit, perched high above Manhattan in our home. One we’d fill with a family.
My heart skipped at just the thought of it.
“We can stay a while longer after the wedding. Maybe go to the Riviera,” Xander suggested gently, knowing I was probably feeling
a bit restless. He was right. “A few weeks on a beach in Nice, a little time in Monte Carlo.”
“I do love a poker table,” I whispered on his lips, throwing my arms over his shoulders.
A sly smirk inched up his mouth. “Me, too.”
Meera’s cheerful giggle pulled our attention, and I glanced over to the large grandfather clock in the corner.
“We should probably get to our seats.” Sloan stood, running her hands down her dress.
“Come on, give her here.” I walked over to the bassinet and gestured to Marcus to hand my niece over. He reluctantly did so
when he checked the time. The ceremony would be starting soon.
Meera squirmed a bit with a couple of angry squeaks when she was parted from her father, but she settled just as quickly.
Of all the adults that vied for Meera’s preference, she was often content in my arms.
“You and Uncle Henry can compete all you’d like,” I teased Xander as Sloan and I made our way out. “I’m her favorite.”