Amelia
When I open my eyes, I already know I’m alone. I don’t even have to turn my head to feel it, and for a moment, there’s a tug in my chest. But only for a moment, because I’m old enough to know that Nicolas and I still have a long way to go, and sex doesn’t automatically make us a couple.
Strangely enough, I still feel a bit calmer, a little more at ease, even though we've only just begun to touch on everything that needs to be said.
He wants to get to know me. He wants a date, which is honestly kind of hilarious, considering we’re getting married in a church in less than three hours.
A giggle bubbles up in my throat, even though after everything that happened yesterday, I should probably be terrified. But something about last night with Nicolas left me feeling a little more confident, even if that’s probably foolish and naive of me.
I shouldn’t feel butterflies in my stomach when he looks at me. My heart shouldn’t skip a beat when he touches me. I shouldn’t feel relieved that he didn’t sleep with Sarah.
And yet, I do. All of it. Fully aware that I’m being foolish. That this could destroy me completely.
The press has it out for me—or maybe I should just say Richardson. Technically, he’s the only one after me, because he knows I could be a threat. I’m fully aware of that. And yet, in just a few hours, I’ll be officially marrying the new heir to the throne.
Fear, panic, and rage. I push it all into a mental drawer, close it tightly, and lock it.
Because I can do this. I’m strong. I’m not weak.
Nicolas slips back into my thoughts, how he felt on top of me, inside me, and I can’t help but smile.
God, I am such an idiot.
“I know that dreamy smile. Don’t tell me…”
Caught, I glance at Lizzy, who’s leaning in the doorway, studying me closely. My cheeks start to burn.
“No way. Oh my God, Lia!” she exclaims, half shocked and half thrilled, and she hops onto the bed beside me. I can’t help but grin.
“You little minx. While I was turning gray from worrying about you, you were off having fun with my brother. Ugh, I really don’t want the details.” She pulls a face of exaggerated disgust, and I burst out laughing, even though her words do sting and leave me with a touch of guilt.
“I’m sorry, Lizzy. I’ve been a terrible friend. How are you? Everything happened so fast yesterday, and I was so lost in my own tunnel vision that I didn’t think about anything else.” I look down at my hands, ashamed, but Lizzy just clicks her tongue.
“Oh, nonsense. Cedric and one of the security guys got me out in time. I’m fine. But you were in the thick of it. And judging by the look on your face right now, I’d say my brother did a pretty good job of making you feel better.”
“Lizzy,” I say, completely embarrassed. Judging by her wicked grin, it wasn’t just an innocent comment.
“What? It’s true. But seriously, are you okay?” She bumps my shoulder with hers, and I smile.
“Yeah. Yeah, I actually am. Your brother… he saved my butt yesterday, and after that… well, let’s just say… we agreed it might be a good idea to actually get to know each other first.”
A wide smile spreads across her face and she claps her hands.
“There we go. You two can make smart decisions after all. Now come on, we’ve got a ton of work to do. I want my brother’s jaw to hit the floor when he sees you later.”
My stomach flutters nervously at the thought of what’s coming in just a few hours.
But at the same time, I realize that this wedding might just give me the freedom I’ve been needing.
Freedom from my brother.
Lizzy stands up and holds her hand out to me.
“Come on. I can’t handle your makeover alone today. So—shower, then living room. Nicolas is banned from the apartment, so we’ve got the place to ourselves.” She grins again and shoos me toward the bathroom.
Dear God, what on earth is this day going to turn into?
Not even two hours later, the makeup artist steps aside, and I stare at myself in the mirror, hardly able to believe what I see.
My hair is tied into an intricate bun at the nape of my neck, with two soft curls falling gently around my face, giving the whole look a classic vintage touch.
My eyes look huge and my cheeks have a soft glow, and my lips shine in a delicate rose tone.
Diamond earrings dangle and sparkle from my ears, while a subtle shimmer graces my collarbone and décolleté.
“Oh my God.” That’s all I can say as I turn to Lizzy with teary eyes, just as she reenters the room in her vibrant blue gown. She’s changed quickly and is now beaming at me.
“Stunning, right? But just wait, we’re not done yet.” The two makeup artists she brought along exchange a conspiratorial glance, and I look at Lizzy, confused.
“Knock, knock. May I come in?” I hear the queen’s voice and instantly straighten up. A nervous flutter immediately stirs in my stomach as she enters, followed by an attendant holding the huge garment bag that contains my wedding dress. She gives me a warm smile, and I relax a little.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the church already?” I blurt out in surprise. Normally, protocol at court dictates everything, and she should already be at Bellington Chapel.
“Nonsense. I’m exactly where I want and need to be. Now, let me take a look at you, darling.” She smiles, walks over, cups my face in her hands, and looks at me with such love that my throat tightens and tears fill my eyes.
“Beautiful. I knew you were the right one for both my sons. You saved Philipp in your own way, and he saved you, and for that alone, I already loved you. But Nicolas, Nicolas is the one who was and is meant for you. He saves you the way you always save everyone else.”
I can’t hold back the tears. I just can’t, even if I wanted to. Her words unleash a storm inside me, because she speaks them with so much warmth, so much love, so much affection that it’s almost too much. I simply don’t know this kind of love. And that’s exactly why it means the world to me.
“Thank you,” I whisper hoarsely, and she laughs and pulls me to my feet.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. And don’t thank me for the truth.” She hugs me tightly, and I soak up her affection like a sponge. Lizzy stands sniffling behind her mother and, damn it, if they don’t stop soon, my makeup’s going to be ruined.
“Now, go put on the dress. I’m sure you’ll be one of the most beautiful brides Harlington has ever seen.” She nudges me toward the bedroom, where the attendant waits to help me.
It all feels completely surreal. Until now, this has always been a strict business arrangement. But Lizzy and Mary are making me feel like a real bride, a real daughter-in-law, and a real sister-in-law.
Now, seeing myself fully dressed in the gown, veil, and sparkling tiara, I finally realize it’s real.
It gives me hope and a fleeting moment of happiness.
I am the bride. I’m getting married.
“Wow. Stunning. Lia, you look…” Lizzy is speechless, and her mother finishes for her line.
“You look simply enchanting. If Nicolas wasn’t already in love with you, he’d be a goner the moment he saw you.” Her words make my heart skip a beat, then race, because she’s clearly mistaken. Nicolas doesn’t love me. But I say nothing. I just look at my reflection again, unable to get enough.
The dress is a simple A-line, falling softly around my feet without a stiff hoop underneath, just layers of tulle that sway gently. The long sleeves and overskirt are crafted from intricate lace. On my feet, I wear matching heels, and a blue garter completes the look.
“I’m a bride.” In disbelief and filled with excitement, I turn to the two of them, and Lizzy giggles.
“Of course you’re a bride. But nice to see it’s finally sunk in. By the way, Nicolas is going to faint when he sees you.”
Butterflies flutter wildly in my stomach, endorphins surge through me, and in this moment, I’m honest enough to admit I’m truly enjoying it. I’ll savor every second of today, and no one, not the press, my brother, nor anyone else, will ruin it for me.
“The limo’s here. Are you ready?” Mary gives me a gentle look, and I nod. I’m ready.
Riding through the city, my excitement soars as I see the huge crowd cheering for us. My nerves are on edge, especially since some people are holding up anti-Amelia banners and signs. But surprisingly, many others are cheering me on, rooting for the car as it drives through the streets.
There are so many. So very many.
I grew up in high society, but this surpasses everything I’ve ever known. I fidget with my fingers until Mary lays her hand gently over mine.
“It’ll all be fine. You’ll see. They’ll love you. Don’t listen to the gossip press. It’s not worth it.” Her words are a balm to my worn-out soul, and I relax a little. Until we arrive at the church, where Henry is already waiting out front.
Suddenly, I tense up. All my good intentions vanish. Because I forgot that it’s his arm I’ll be walking down the aisle on.
Sweat breaks out at the back of my neck, and I feel nauseous.
Damn it, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
“Breathe, Lia. It’s going to be okay,” Lizzy says, trying to soothe me, having noticed the shift. But she doesn’t understand why. I nod and give her a weak smile, but inside I’m tightening up.
The car stops in front of the church’s grand staircase, and I hear the bells begin to ring. But all I see is my brother’s tense smile as he opens the door and holds out his hand.
“My lady, Your Majesty,” he greets the other women politely and with perfect gentlemanly grace, then throws me a quick, warning glance. The nausea gets worse as I take his hand and he squeezes it hard.
Don’t give anything away.
Don’t give anything away.
I grit my teeth and step out of the car. Lizzy helps with the veil, and the crowd behind the barricades starts to cheer. And to curse.
“How dare you, you slut?”
“You should burn.”
“You’ll never stay by his side.”
“We hate you.”
The shouts are scattered, but they’re all I hear. Still, I keep smiling, waving as Mary hands me the bouquet of beautiful roses. I keep smiling as Henry grips my arm tighter than necessary and starts walking with me up the stairs.
“You’re embarrassing me. Don’t think I haven’t seen the headlines you’ve caused,” he hisses through clenched teeth while still smiling, and suddenly I feel cold. With the shouting behind me and Henry beside me, I climb the stairs stiffly, though I want nothing more than to run and hide.
So much for “enjoying this day.”
The church’s double doors stand open and the organ begins to play. Every row is filled, and I see the guests rise as they all stare at me.
My ears are ringing and the shouts echo in my head, causing me to falter for a moment. But Henry squeezes my arm roughly, and I keep going. Step by step. I fix my gaze straight ahead, and my eyes meet gray ones that captivate me, support me, and draw me closer. They look at me with awe.
Nicolas.
I forget Henry. Forget the people. I hold on to him, to his gaze. He’s here. I can do this. I can do this.
And when he reaches out his hand to me, when it closes firmly, securely, and unbelievably gently around mine, when his thumb soothes my racing pulse at my wrist, I feel a small hope that everything might still turn out alright.