Epilogue
THOUGH ASTRID WOULD have walked down the aisle at that very moment, if it had been arranged, two things stood in their way.
The first was the amount of behind-the-scenes work involved in arranging a royal wedding.
From notifying parliament and having the marriage ratified—a formality, rather than genuine concern—to the fact that every single Norvenheim royal wedding had taken place on the first weekend of the summer for at least two hundred and fifty years, meant that they had to wait.
To bide their time. And they did so in the best possible way—by falling more and more in love, each day they spent together.
Which was every day, because they couldn’t bear to be parted.
Having suffered through that separation, they had an unspoken but passionately shared agreement that they would not be split again.
Even though Astrid accepted there were no guarantees in life, she finally recognised that it was still better to grab hold of love with both hands and keep it close to her chest for as long as she could. She’d seen the alternative and didn’t recommend it.
Not even a little bit.
And so it was that on a bright, warm Saturday morning in June, Anja helped Astrid prepare for a full day’s wedding event, starting with a church service, followed by the wedding ceremony and then, the banquet to celebrate.
She didn’t feel a hint of anxiety or apprehension, just excitement and giddy delight at the future.
It was so different to what she’d anticipated—a cool, businesslike marriage to someone she liked but would never love. As she pressed her diamond star earrings into place—how could she wear anything else?—she thought with a smile of the wish she’d made, and how completely it had not come true.
Let me find someone I won’t care about losing.
The opposite had happened. She’d found someone she cared very, very much about losing and she couldn’t be happier.
Javier was not only her other half, he was her soulmate and strength.
He had brought her back to life and the light.
Perhaps the power of the wish wasn’t in the words you spoke or the thoughts you had, but rather, in the truth of your heart.
* * *
The wedding was televised to record numbers, with people from all over the world tuning in to see the stoic queen marry her heart’s desire.
It was better than a fairytale happy ending because it was completely real and true.
It was better than anything Astrid had ever known possible.
That happiness and certainty radiated from both her and Javier, not just throughout the ceremony, but for the rest of their long lives.
The queen the world was used to seeing in a most composed state was suddenly a study in happiness and joy, as she walked towards her future and the man who made her feel as though absolutely anything was possible.
No one could look at her smile and feel anything but delighted for her.
The answering pride on Javier’s face and the love that shone from his eyes as he watched his bride step towards him, was palpable.
* * *
By the following Christmas, it had been announced that Astrid and Javier were expecting their first baby and the whole kingdom—the whole world in fact—was preparing for the arrival of the next heir of Norvenheim.
Astrid, who’d worried so much about how she could ever risk loving someone again, after the loss of her family, had realised that she had very little say in the matter.
From the moment she faced her fears and admitted she loved Javier, that emotion had burst through her whole body.
The moment she discovered she was pregnant, only two months after their wedding, she felt that same love almost explode from her pores.
She felt as though she were glowing with light and new life.
She felt so completely resplendent in her happiness and joy that she could hardly remember how she’d felt, at the end of the year prior.
Christmas came again but this year, she had Javier at her side, each and every day, for every event. Her heart’s true Christmas wish.
Noticeably absent from royal events was Carlotta.
She continued to be invited as Astrid had secretly held out some hope for a thawing there, if Carlotta could only see what she’d done and apologise.
No apology ever came from that quarter, but Astrid had the reassurance of realising she had not been completely wrong about Otto.
With Carlotta’s increasing absence from not only royal events, but also the kingdom itself, the scales seemed to fall from Otto’s eyes, so he started to see things as they really were.
He reached out to Javier first and, bit by bit, although it did take quite some time, a bond of trust began to build between the brothers, and then, respect.
Finally, there was affection, a true brotherly connection that brought Astrid much happiness.
Otto was the only uncle their children would know. That meant something to her.
* * *
They were blessed not just with one child, in the end, nor the obligatory two, but rather with five.
Their royal apartment expanded room by room, to take up a large proportion of the private residence of the palace.
The rooms, though large, were always noisy and chaotic.
Bit by bit, Astrid had the valuable works of art moved into other wings of the palace, instead.
Of the five children, four were sons. They’d taken to playing football in the corridors, particularly during winter, meaning some valuable keepsakes had already been lost to their boisterousness.
Their daughter, Ingrid—named after Astrid’s mother—was just like Astrid and became her closest friend and confidante.
In a twist of good timing and fortune, Anja had a daughter at the same time, so though Ingrid was outnumbered heartily by brothers, she had a best friend in Freja, from whom she was inseparable.
* * *
Through the embers of such grief and pain, a beautiful, happy life had grown.
Queen Astrid never forgot to be grateful for all that she had, all that she’d fought for and all that she’d earned.
And every day of their long, happy, shared lives, Javier demonstrated why she’d been right to risk everything on love.
* * * * *