32. Declan
DECLAN
We arrive at the palace only minutes behind the car that brought Cian, Scarlett, Henry, and Ruby from the landing strip.
Alex, Nora, Fiona, Knox, and Saoirse all flew with me, Astrid, Miles, and Iris from Louisiana.
I’m thrilled to have them all here to witness our wedding and to support us.
But I’m acutely aware that they’ve all recently spent more time than I have in my home country and the palace where I grew up, as they get out of the car and approach the imposing stone structure without hesitation.
I don’t let go of Astrid's hand as we walk up the immense staircase. I hear the commotion of the reunion taking place in the grand foyer and pause just outside the open doors. Astrid clearly feels my tension and squeezes my hand.
“It’s going to be fine,” she tells me. “No matter what happens, we are still husband and wife.”
I take in her gorgeous face and let her words sink in. “Of course.”
That’s not the concern, obviously.
Astrid is mine. Legally and emotionally this time. For good.
That’s what matters most.
But I want my grandfather’s blessing.
I’m not too proud to admit that.
Loving Astrid and wanting her to be officially part of our family is one thing my grandfather and I have agreed on, even if we’ve never discussed it.
I want him to not just acknowledge our marriage, but I want him to be thrilled about it. I want this to make him happy and for him to feel that I finally did something he wanted me to do.
And if he won’t, it’s going to be a problem.
I want my family back. I want to come home regularly. I want to get to know my mother again. I want to be close to my brothers and watch them up close as husbands and fathers.
But today could start the tensions with my grandfather all over again.
Astrid presses against my side. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
With a deep breath, we step into the foyer.
And are nearly bowled over by Saoirse and Mariah, who are already on their way back out of the palace.
“Just because you are technically princesses doesn’t mean you can order anyone to drive you over to the animal park!” Fiona calls after them.
“No need to order anyone. I’ll drive!” Ruby, Henry’s wife, says. She’s right on the heels of the girls. “I hear there are baby elephants.”
“Yes!” Saoirse replies. “Two!”
“Hi, Declan! Hi, Astrid!” Ruby greets as she runs down the stairs after the teenagers. “Way to be dramatic!” she tells us with a grin.
We turn back to the group just as my youngest brother Cian comes striding forward. “There she is!” He lifts Astrid up in a bear hug and spins her around. “My ex fiancée! Who left me for my big brother!”
Astrid is laughing by the time he sets her down.
“I seem to remember us huddled in a corner with Miles and Henry trying to figure a way out of that,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Because you were madly in love with Scarlett.”
He looks over his shoulder at his wife, who’s the exact replica of the brunette who just left with Saoirse and Mariah.
“She would’ve waited for me,” Cian says confidently.
Scarlett shakes her head. “Honestly? There are days that I think about calling you and begging you to take him off my hands even now.” But she’s smiling at my youngest brother with such clear affection I feel my heart squeeze.
Cian laughs out loud, clearly unconcerned by his wife’s words.
He looks down at Astrid again. “Honestly? My grandfather had a good idea. You and I would’ve made gorgeous babies, and it looks like we only would’ve had to act miserable together for what? A year and a half? Then he would’ve let us off the hook anyway, just like he did with you two.”
I look at Henry, Cian’s bodyguard and best friend. “A little help here?”
Henry holds up his hands and laughs. “Oh, I’ve turned over his care and feeding fully to Scarlett.”
I grab the back of my brother’s shirt and pull him back away from my wife. “The new rule is five feet of space between you two at all times.”
I’m still not quite to the point of joking about how close Cian and Astrid came to walking down the aisle just to make Diarmuid happy.
I may never be.
I’m not the happy-go-lucky one of the O’Gradys. I’ll just let Cian keep that title.
Cian laughs. “So we are going to have another wedding?”
“We need to see the king.” I say with a nod. “Where are Linnea and Jonah? Or Torin and Abigail for that matter?”
“I texted them,” Iris says. “Linnea said—”
Just then, the king's advisor and her husband come rushing into the foyer.
Her eyes lock on Astrid and she makes a bee-line.
“Astrid!”
I step back and watch as my wife is caught up in her older sister’s embrace.
For much of my childhood, when I thought I was going to be king, Linnea was intended to be my wife.
And she would have been a perfect queen.
She is poised, beautiful, and intelligent.
She’s also madly in love with my brother’s bodyguard and best friend, Jonah, who is standing just a few feet behind her, watching her with a possessive and adoring expression.
Which is why she didn’t marry my brother, who became king, either.
I meet Jonah’s gaze, and he gives me a short nod of greeting.
Both women look a little shiny-eyed when they finally separate, smiling at one another.
“Oh my God, I’m so happy to see you,” Linnea says. “And I’m so sorry this happened. I had no idea he was going to make that statement. Typically, he lets me look over things he’s going to post before they go up.”
“So someone is monitoring his Internet access?” I ask.
Linnea looks at me with a brow arched. “No. Of course, not.”
Linnea not only trained most of her life to be the eventual queen, but she has a natural take-charge air that rivals Iris’s. That means she is neither impressed nor intimidated by royalty, and certainly not by the estranged eldest prince.
“Perhaps it’s time that we talk about that,” I suggest, knowing Linnea and my grandmother are the only two people who can possibly give my grandfather advice about what he should and shouldn’t post publicly.
But Linnea shakes her head. “I am not going to tell an eighty-seven-year-old man that he can’t make truthful public posts if he wants to, Declan.”
“So you will just continue issuing your follow-up statements, trying to clean up what he does?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Yes. Especially when the statements are so easy to write.”
The official statement from the Palace, written by Linnea, was one of full support of Diarmuid, Queen Roisin, Astrid, and me. The Palace’s stance is that we are all loved and that our happiness is everyone’s only concern.
“We need to see the king,” I repeat.
Linnea looks over at Jonah. “The king and queen are… indisposed.”
“They’re in the greenhouse,” Jonas says.
My brother’s wife, Abigail, regardless of her title and crown, is, first and foremost, an agricultural scientist who loves her plants nearly as much as she loves my brother. And because my brother is obsessed with her, if she’s in the greenhouse, that’s where he will also be.
I shake my head. “Not that king and queen.”
But just then we hear footsteps coming down the hallway, and a moment later, King Torin and Queen Abigail, my brother and sister-in-law, appear.
Torin is dressed in a suit, sans tie. His hair is slightly rumpled, but he has a huge grin on his face as he follows his wife into the entryway.
Abigail, on the other hand, is dressed in overalls and muddy rubber boots. She is pulling work gloves from her hands as she approaches us, and the smudges of dirt on her cheeks can be seen even across the foyer. She’s grinning widely.
“We lost track of time,” she tells us. “Welcome!”
More greetings and hugs commence, and I’m starting to get antsy. I need this all straightened out with my grandfather before I can fully relax. I want my grandfather to see that Astrid and I are not just staying together but that we’re happy. Completely in love. Exactly as he and Alfred wanted.
I want him to see what Alfred won’t get to.
I want to publicly celebrate having what he and Alfred had to hide all those years.
And yes, I want him to make another post about it.
We are legally married. She’s mine. That’s what matters. But I want the world to know it. And I want my family to truly believe it.
Suddenly, everyone steps aside, and I focus on the person who just joined us.
My throat tightens the moment I see my mother.
She pauses and kisses Cian’s cheek, then Fiona’s, but she doesn’t falter on her path to me. She stops in front of me with a soft, beautiful smile on her face.
“Declan,” is all she says.
My vision gets blurry, and I feel Astrid squeeze my arm.
I have to bend to hug my mother, but her arms wrap around me fully, and she whispers in my ear, “Welcome home, son.”
And just like that, all of the tension leaves my body.
Either everyone around us goes quiet, or I completely block them out for the long moments that I hold my mother. When I finally let her go, her cheeks are wet with tears as well. But her smile is bright.
She turns to Astrid and pulls her into a full-body hug as well. “I am so happy to see you, sweetheart.”
“It’s all real, Abria,” Astrid tells her.
My mother strokes Astrid’s hair, then pulls back. “Thank you. Thank you for loving him. And making him happy. That’s all I ever wanted for him.”
“Well, he has both. Always.”
I try to swallow and find it nearly impossible.
I focus on Linnea. “My grandfather. Now. Please.”
Torin steps forward. “I can marry you. I am, after all, kind of officially the one in charge.” He gives me a smile. “Actually, if Grandfather does it, it’s not official anymore.”
I nod my understanding. “We are officially married in the US. I just want this official in Diarmuid’s eyes. And for Cara.” I look at Linnea. “And a new statement.”
“Of course,” she tells me. She doesn’t roll her eyes, but I get the impression she wants to.
“He’s having tea with Roisin,” Jonah says.
“So they are fine?” I ask.