Chapter 18
The Abbey
Moss and ivy scale the stone facade and do nothing to ease the trepidation I feel simply looking at it. I step out of the car that was driven by Leo and accompanied by one of my uncle’s guards and followed by another SUV of guards.
“You’ll be greeted by streets full of citizens of the world and there you’ll wave and smile to the crowds before the doors are opened to welcome you into the abbey.
” Craig, Rhys’s personal secretary, runs through what to expect on the day of the wedding.
“When the doors open, the music will change to the bridal march. Stella, do not walk down the aisle yet. It’s bad luck. Your Majesty, if you’ll follow me.”
I skirt the far side of the pews with Dahlia at my side.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your train has nary a crease or wrinkle as you walk down the aisle,” she says with a cheeky wink. She’s enjoying the idea of being my bridesmaid since we’ve become so close.
We watch as Craig shows my uncle the pace he should take down the long aisle, where to pause to acknowledge the box of royalty that will sit higher than anyone else, and then on to the altar where the archbishop will be waiting alongside Rhys and Taylor.
“Here you will give your most gracious curtsey, ma’am,” Craig tells me. “It is customary to slightly bow your heads to each other, your Majesties. Afterward, the archbishop will lead the services.”
“We will go through several passages, as well as a reflection on the importance of union in marriage,” the archbishop says. “Then, I will tell you that you may kiss your bride.”
“My favorite part,” Rhys jokes.
“After, you will walk back down the aisle and out to the royal carriage, which will be waiting to take you back to the castle,” Craig says. It will be slow moving. Smile. A Lot.”
I just nod. There’s so much to take in and I’m terrified that I’ll make a mistake if I don’t pay attention to everything.
“It’ll be all right,” Rhys says, only for me to hear. “I’ll be with you.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Let’s run through the order one more time,” Craig says.
“I think the power is going to his head,” Rhys stage whispers to me, and I snicker.
Craig pauses in what he recounting and turns to look at us directly. “I heard that, Your Majesty.”
“Aye, my friend, you were meant to.”
They share a laugh and then Craig agrees, “Aye you’re probably right. I just want everything to go well.”
“It will,” Rhys says, slapping him on the back. “Let’s go have a good night and relax. Tomorrow will be perfect, I’ve no doubt.”
“Aye,” Craig agrees. “That sounds good. It’s almost time for our booking anyway.”
We all know that no restaurant would turn away the wedding party of the century no matter how late we are, but we don’t want to be rude either. One thing I have learned about Rhys is that he’s very considerate of those around him.
He takes my hand in his, ever acting the part of the happy groom, and leads our party out to the line of cars waiting to take us to the upscale restaurant at the marina. Leo opens the door for us, and we step outside.
The sun had set while we were in the abbey and as I look over my shoulder at the imposing structure, I feel a shiver wrack down my spine. Will I survive tomorrow, or even make it through tonight? I can’t help but recall the conversation I wasn’t supposed to hear.
Saoirse and the earl’s goal is to get rid of me in any way possible, and Rhys’s is to keep me. I feel like a doll torn in two between greedy children, with no possible way to keep me whole in the end.
Leo opens the door to the SUV, and I climb up. Rhys follows me and buckles my seatbelt before I can with a pointed look. He’s still not over the accident that I’m now sure was no accident at all. It was most definitely an on-purpose.
We sit in somber silence as we ride to the marina side by side, his heavy palm on my thigh. It’s not unlike the feeling of riding to the late King’s funeral services, and the emotional overlap is daunting. I hate feeling this way.
I always thought my wedding day would be fun, and joy filled, not sad and terrifying. Do I love Rhys? Yes. But that doesn’t mean I should be marrying him.
“We’re pulling in now, Your Majesty,” the driver says.
“Ready?” Rhys asks me.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“No, it does no’,” he replies. “Just smile and look happy.”
“Okay.”
Leo pulls open the car door and Rhys steps out, adjusting his coat before turning back to offer a gentlemanly hand to help me down. A loving smile is firmly in place on his face.
It infuriates me but there’s nothing I can do about it aside from offer up the same fake smile. I wish we were free to show our true feelings. I wish I was free to know what his true feelings are. My own are so complicated that I feel like I’m lost at sea, never to be rescued.
We walk hand in hand up the walkway leading to the posh restaurant that hangs over the marina and looks out over the ocean. We smile and wave with our free hands at the photographers who are camped out, our security officers keeping them back.
When we enter the restaurant, we’re ushered into a private room at the back that’s already filled with our family.
It’s odd to realize that this is my family.
Three months ago, this would have been a quiet affair with my uncles and my fiancé’s family and now it’s a room filled with powerful people… and me.
Am I to believe that I’m one of those powerful people?
I can’t help but feel like Rhys has been pushing me toward the mantle he wants me to take up, is forcing me to, really.
All I feel equipped to do is run and hide.
But if I believe in my own bloodline, and who my parents actually were, then I am one of the powerful people…
or at least I could be, if I choose to be.
The walls are covered in a deep red fabric that matches the color of the tablecloths, gold candlesticks and large floral arrangements grace the tables. Everyone takes their seats and are served drinks while they chat amongst themselves, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.
My uncle looks at me from across the table where he’s deep in conversation with someone I don’t recognize. He gives me a wink and a smile, like he’s doted on me my whole life and he’s proud of me. Like he’s celebrating my happy marriage.
The earl looks over and smiles at me as well.
Everyone takes turns giving toasts and welcoming me to the family after Rhys gives one thanking them all for coming out to support us and celebrate with us.
Like we’re all one big happily blended family.
I’m not sure where this bent to the Brady Bunch came from but it’s weird.
Like a coat that’s too small and doesn’t quite fit.
Dinner is more of the same.
It’s like I’m watching a movie and not my real life. It’s so absurd I can’t form actual thoughts.
“Come ladies,” a tipsy Suzanne says to Dahlia and I. “Let’s go powder our noses.”
Dahlia looks at me, surprised, and I just shrug my shoulders. I don’t really know what this new friendship is either, but I will not look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever the saying is.
We follow her to the ladies’ room and stand in front of the mirror fixing our faces and smoothing our hair before the paps get more pictures of us leaving the restaurant after a long evening.
“Oh, I love that lip color,” Suzanne says. “What is it?”
“I have no idea,” I tell her, handing her the tube of whatever Maeve had placed in my bag after helping me get ready. “I’m kind of terrible at girly things.”
She looks it over with delight before handing it back. “Oh that’s a great one. I have it in a different color, but I’ll have to try that one. It’s gorgeous with your coloring.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Suzanne says before giving me a warm hug and heading out the door.
“Well, that was weird,” Dahlia says. “Since when are you two besties and should I be jealous?”
“No,” I laugh. “You’re still my one and only. But she offered up a truce at the garden party and I could use a friend in the trenches.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “I’m just not sure she is one.”
“Only time will tell.”
“Yeah,” she agrees reluctantly. “I guess.”
Dahlia’s quiet as we leave the restroom. The crowd has thinned some, leaving me feeling unsettled again. I feel like I’m on a tightrope and I’m going to slip any second.
“Ready to go, hen,” Rhys asks softly as we approach.
“Yeah.”
“It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. Let’s get you home to bed.”
“Okay.”
“Well, everyone,” Rhys turns to those still here, “we’ll see you tomorrow at the abbey!”
Cheers go up in our private room at the restaurant and he waves happily to everyone before wrapping his arm around me and leading me out of the building.
The hostess opens the front door for us then Leo opens the door to the car, all while photographers call our names and flashbulbs snap across our eyes.
“Good luck tomorrow, princess!” someone calls out and I smile and wave before climbing into the SUV.
“Thanks, I’m going to need it,” I mutter to myself.
“What was that, love?” Rhys asks as he slides in beside me.
“Oh nothing, I was just mumbling to-do lists to myself,” I lie.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he replies, but we both know that’s not the truth.
We sit in silence as we’re driven back to the castle.
Truthfully, I am exhausted. It’s been a long day, and the wine has been free flowing tonight. I’m sure tomorrow it will there will be plenty more, and while I’m not drunk, I am a little tipsy.
It wouldn’t do well for the king’s fiancée to be sloppy drunk, but I did have a good night if one can have such an indulgence when worrying about their impending doom.
The night sky is black, and the moon is full as it hangs low over the sea, highlighting the castle on the cliff as it reaches for the sky. The effect is terrifying.
The car service takes us to the private entrance and Leo opens the door for us.
Rhys steps out first before reaching back for me like he did at the restaurant. But this time, instead of properly holding my hand, he wraps his arm around me again, holding me close like he did when we left the party.
I like it.
I don’t know what’s true or not but in my heart, I feel safe and cared for when he holds me like this.
“I like this,” I whisper.
“What?”
“When you hold me like this,” I say.
The wine lets me share more than I normally would.
“I like it too, hen,” he says as we walk up the stone steps. “You know we can’t always behave this way in public…”
“I know.”
“But I swear I’ll do my best to show you how important you are to me when we’re in private,” he says. And while it’s something, it’s still not a love declaration.
Either way, he walks me through the residential area and pushes open the door to our suite. He lets the heavy door fall closed behind us as he moves us through the bedroom and into the dressing room where he gently strips me out of my dress and heels and pulls on my comfy pajamas.
Afterward, he gently cleanses the makeup from my skin and plucks the pins from my hair, dropping them one by one on the bathroom counter.
He grabs the paddle brush from the counter where I left it and starts brushing the tangles from my hair.
It feels so good I want to purr like a cat and when he’s done, he guides me into the bedroom where he pulls back the covers and tucks me in.
I sleepily watch while he strips off his clothes, down to his boxer briefs, and climbs into the bed on the other side. Rhys pulls me into his arms, my back to his front, and sweeps my hair off my neck, placing a sweet kiss there.
“Sleep, love,” he whispers in my ear. “Tomorrow, we get married.”
The door to our bedroom crashes open and a giggling Dahlia says, “The bride and groom can’t sleep together on the eve of their wedding. You have to sleep somewhere else, Rhys.”
“No’ on your fucking life little sister,” he says.
“That’s why I brought back up,” she replies as Taylor drags him from the bed and throws him over his shoulder.
Rhys throws his head back and laughs as he’s carried from our suite to sleep elsewhere, and Dahlia claims his spot.
“Let’s get some sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow to make you my sister. ”
Then she gives me a big hug and snuggles in to go to sleep.
The last thought I have before sleep claims me is having her for a sister is not going to be a hardship.