Chapter 51 When An Entire Country Is Shipping You
When An Entire Country Is Shipping You
The morning after Sebastian’s victory party, Emilia awoke to find her face splashed across every newspaper in the kingdom.
ROYAL ENGAGEMENT: PRINCE ALEXANDER TO WED HISTORIAN EMILIA CARTER. The headline glared up from the tablet Alexander had left on the bedside table, alongside a note that simply read: Don’t panic. I’ll be back soon.
Too late for that, she thought, scrolling through article after article with growing disbelief.
In the span of twenty-four hours, Parliament had officially abolished the Royal Marriage Act, Queen Eleanor had announced a “strategic step back” from certain duties, and Emilia had apparently become the nation’s newest obsession—all sparked by the moment Alexander had slipped Caroline’s sapphire ring onto her finger.
The Royal Gazette called it “nothing short of a modern revolution within our monarchy,” while The Caledonian Standard, a paper favored by the old guard, countered with a sterner take: “A Reckless Precedent: Prince Alexander’s Engagement Threatens Centuries of Royal Stability”—Critics argue that abolishing the Royal Marriage Act undermines the monarchy’s foundational traditions, with one senior peer warning, ‘Love is a luxury kings cannot afford.’ The Daily Chronicle had somehow unearthed her academic credentials, publishing a detailed profile that described her as “brilliant,” “principled,” and “entirely unimpressed by titles.”
Most unsettling were the photographs—Alexander presenting her with the historic sapphire ring on Sebastian’s dance floor, their dance afterward, and that kiss… captured from multiple angles, already being shared across social media with the rapidly trending hashtag #RoyalEngagement.
Her phone buzzed with what felt like the hundredth notification of the morning. A message from Harper:
“I know I screamed loud enough to burst your eardrums last night when you showed me the ring, but seeing you two EVERYWHERE this morning is surreal. Three different news outlets have called me for quotes about ‘my best friend, the future queen.’ You owe me a lifetime supply of wine for deflecting their questions.”
Emilia smiled despite herself. Thank god for Harper, who had pulled her into a corner after the proposal, demanded to see the ring up close, and then proceeded to interrogate Alexander about his intentions while completely ignoring his royal status.
Before she could reply, another message came through—this one from Sebastian:
“Congratulations on single-handedly breaking my party’s attendance record, stealing my political thunder, and giving the palace press office a mild cardiac event.
If Alexander thinks he’s living this down anytime soon, he’s sorely mistaken.
P.S. I’m expecting to be best man, or at minimum, the person who gets to write the most embarrassing speech. ”
Emilia was still smiling when her mother’s message appeared:
“Ma chérie, there are reporters camped outside our house. Your father is threatening them with his old university bullhorn—especially the ones shouting about ‘preserving royal dignity.’ He says they’re just mad their dusty rulebook’s obsolete.
So much for that ‘strictly professional relationship,’ yes?
We are so happy for you, darling. That ring is beautiful.
Call us when you can escape the royal bubble. Love you.”
Emilia groaned, tossing the phone aside. The coverage was overwhelming in its thoroughness:
Royal Watchers Weekly claimed their relationship had been “the catalyst for his unprecedented stand against tradition,” suggesting that Alexander had risked “everything—his reputation, his position, potentially even his crown” for her.
They’d dedicated three pages to the history of Caroline’s sapphire ring, calling it “a pointed rejection of modern royal conventions” and “a symbol of genuine royal love over political expedience.”
The Metropolitan analyzed how Queen Eleanor had been “outmaneuvered by love,” suggesting that her attempts to arrange a match with Lady Genevieve had “backfired spectacularly” and commenting on Alexander’s choice of “Por Una Cabeza” for their dance: “The famous tango, with its lyrics about gambling on love despite the odds, sent an unmistakable message. Prince Alexander wasn’t just dancing—he was publicly declaring his willingness to risk everything for love, in direct defiance of royal tradition.
No diplomatic waltz or courtly minuet for this heir. ”
There were body language experts dissecting every photograph from Sebastian’s party, claiming that “the way she leaned into him” and “his hand placement on her lower back” revealed months of hidden intimacy, and speculating on how long their engagement had been planned.
And then there were the whispers—anonymous palace sources claiming they’d witnessed “intense moments” and “heated debates that somehow never quite seemed purely academic.” One staffer added, “The staff’s split—half think it’s a fairy tale, half think he’s throwing away everything Queen Eleanor built.
It’s chaos behind closed doors.” Another gossip column interviewed neighbors in her building who claimed to not have seen her in weeks, speculating she’d been secretly living at the palace preparing for the engagement announcement.
Social media was a storm of its own, millions of posts analyzing, celebrating, and tearing into every aspect of their relationship:
“Imagine changing centuries of tradition because you refuse to give up the woman you love, then proposing with a ring that symbolizes true love over duty. THAT’S romance. #RoyalEngagement”
“Not sure why everyone’s obsessing over a hot bureaucrat’s love life. Monarchy’s still just rich people playing dress-up with our tax money. #RoyalEngagement #AbolishIt”
“Sure, it’s romantic, but what’s next—a palace reality show? Tradition matters. #RoyalEngagement #BringBackTheAct”
“A historian literally made history by inspiring the abolition of an archaic law and becoming our future queen. Emilia Carter is my new hero. #RoyalEngagement”
“Oh great, another royal fairy tale to distract us while they sit on piles of gold. Can we skip the wedding and just tax the crown jewels already? #RoyalEngagement #EndTheMonarchy”
“That proposal. That ring. That kiss. I’m not crying, you’re crying. #RoyalEngagement”
“Alexander’s out here acting like love fixes everything. Mate, it’s a throne, not a rom-com. Rent’s still due. #RoyalEngagement #WakeUp”
Emilia set the tablet down, overwhelmed by the flood of notifications.
She’d known there would be attention, of course.
She wasn’t naive. But this—this felt like being caught in a tidal wave.
Every private moment dissected, every glance interpreted, her entire life now public property.
She glanced down at Caroline’s sapphire, still strange and wonderful on her finger.
And yet… there was something undeniably powerful about the narrative taking shape.
The prince who defied tradition for love.
The historian who wouldn’t compromise her identity.
Together, they had somehow become a symbol of the monarchy’s potential evolution—though not without a chorus of skeptics ready to tear it all down.
The door opened quietly, and Alexander appeared, looking impossibly composed despite everything—not a crease in his suit, not a hair out of place.
“So,” he said, eyeing the tablet with a wry smile. “I see you’ve been reading.”
Emilia drew her legs up and hugged them. She briefly rested her head on her knees and then looked up at him. “Did you know it would be like this?”
He moved to sit beside her on the bed, his expression softening. “Not exactly like this, no. But I knew it wouldn’t be quiet.”
“They’re analyzing our body language,” she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.
“The Standard’s calling it reckless, half of Twitter wants to tax your jewels, and the other half thinks you’re a romantic hero.
And apparently I’ve been living in the palace for weeks, according to my very observant neighbors who I’ve never actually spoken to. ”
“Welcome to royal life,” he added, his tone lighter now. “Where truth is optional and speculation is the national sport.”
She looked at him then, really looked at him. “Does it ever get easier? Being public property like this?”
He considered the question, his hand finding hers, thumb brushing over the sapphire ring. “No,” he admitted. “But you get better at remembering what’s real and what’s just… noise.”
Emilia squeezed his hand. “And what’s real?”
His eyes met hers, clear and certain. “This. Us.” He paused, his thumb tracing patterns against her palm. “Everything else is just the price of admission.”
She laughed softly, resting her head against his shoulder. “Did you see my mother’s message? There are reporters outside my parents’ house, and apparently my father is threatening them with a bullhorn.”
Alexander winced. “I should have warned them. I’ll have security sent over.”
“I need to call her,” Emilia replied guiltily. “Apparently the news is out about our ‘strictly professional relationship.’”
Alexander’s lips twitched. “That’s an understatement.” His expression grew more serious. “This is just the beginning, you know. The scrutiny, the opinions, the constant attention—it won’t stop after today.”
“I know,” Emilia said, meeting his gaze as she twisted Caroline’s sapphire on her finger, “but we’ve completely upended the order of things. Are you sure we’ll be okay?”
He gathered her hands in his, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles. “I won’t pretend it will be easy. There will be those who never accept us, who will watch and wait for us to fail.”
“That’s reassuring,” she said with a weak laugh.
His eyes softened as he looked at her. “You know,” he said, his voice low and certain, “they can write whatever headlines they want, analyze every step we take together, and speculate until the end of time. But they’ll never really know what happened between us, or how you challenged everything I thought I knew.
” His eyes held hers, unflinching. “They don’t get to define us, Emilia. Only we do.”
She felt something inside her settle—a quiet certainty taking root amid the storm.
“They’re going to say I changed you,” she whispered, touching his face.
“No,” Alexander replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You reminded me who I’ve always wanted to be. Who I was meant to be.”
Emilia closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. When she opened them again, her resolve had hardened into something unshakeable.
Somewhere beyond the palace walls, cameras flashed and keyboards clattered as the world continued to dissect their love story.
But here, in this quiet moment, Emilia found herself not just accepting the chaos, but embracing it—because at the center of the whirlwind was the one truth that mattered: they had chosen each other, come what may.
And despite the headlines, the speculation, the sudden, dizzying public interest in every aspect of her life—from adoring fans to bitter cynics—Emilia felt a strange new calm take hold. They had jumped into the deep end and there was no turning back now.
But for the first time in her life, she didn’t want a safety net or an exit strategy. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them the way they had faced everything else:
Together.