Epilogue
TWO YEARS LATER: COURTNEY
A song slips easily from my lips as I move about, stepping my way among the flowers that decorate our front yard. I bend down, my hands cradling a cluster of daisies, their petals as bright as the future unfolding before us.
It’s been two years since Jakob and I settled into this house, our haven nestled amongst Bergovia’s rolling hills. We’ve let life unfurl at its own pace, savoring each moment like the slow bloom of spring. Now, with Reya toddling around, her laughter the sweetest melody, things almost feel complete.
Almost, because there is one thing left to do.
“Momma!” Reya’s tiny voice pulls me from my reverie.
Her chubby hand points excitedly at a butterfly flitting from one flower to another. Her wonder is infectious, and I smile, scooping her into my arms to spin her around, her giggles filling the air.
“Today’s a special day, little one,” I smile, pressing a kiss to her rosy cheek.
The significance of the day makes it feel like my chest is full of glitter — it’s mine and Jakob’s wedding day, the beginning of yet another chapter in our amazing life.
“Dada?” she asks, eyes wide with innocence and curiosity.
“Yes, sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy are getting married today.”
I set her down gently, watching as she darts off towards the house, her small feet navigating the familiar path. My mom meets her at the door, where she scoops Reya up and carries her inside.
The sound of footsteps alerts me to someone else’s presence, and I turn to see Jakob’s father approaching, his gait dignified, an unspoken gravity in his stride. What is he doing here so early? And on the wedding day, at that?
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” I greet him, hoping I don’t sound as perturbed as I’m feeling.
“Courtney,” he nods, his eyes finding mine with an intensity that suggests more than just pleasantries are to be exchanged. “May I speak with Jakob?”
“Of course.” I call for Jakob, who emerges from the house, his hair tousled, the hint of a beard framing his strong jaw — a man who has grown into his role as a father with a grace that humbles me.
“Jakob.” His father looks between the two of us and then nods. “I understand that today is a special day, so I will not take up an unnecessary amount of your time. However, I have made an important decision and wished to tell you it in person. After considerable thought, you are the one I choose to inherit the throne.”
I watch as myriad emotions flicker across Jakob’s face — surprise, honor, a touch of trepidation. His gaze meets mine, searching for reassurance. My heart swells with pride, and an unspoken promise passes between us — we’re in this together, as we’ve always been.
He will be king, and I will be queen — a role I never could have imagined for myself growing up in Texas, but that I will embrace with the same dedication I have embraced partnership and motherhood.
“Father.” Jakob stands taller, proud, but I can see the sheen in his eyes. “I am honored.”
“Congratulations,” I say, stepping closer to wrap my arm around Jakob.
His father nods, a rare smile gracing his lips, before he turns and walks away, leaving us to absorb the magnitude of his words.
“Can you believe it?” Jakob murmurs, his eyes alight with the reflection of new possibilities.
“Believe it? I’m ecstatic for you — for us. This is your destiny, Jakob.”
He leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that holds the promise of a thousand tomorrows, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is exactly where we are meant to be.
“I should go,” Jakob says. “You must get ready, and is it not bad luck for me to see you in your dress?”
“Hmm. Something like that.” I snuggle my face into his neck, too distracted by his scent and the feel of being close to him to care about much else.
“See you at the altar,” he says.
“Can’t wait,” I reply, only the promise of what’s to come giving me the strength to step out of his embrace.
I head inside and up the staircase. Ginny and Mimi, my closest friends and chosen sisters, await me in the room that’s been transformed into bridal headquarters. Their excited chatter fills the space as they help each other with their makeup. The sight of them, here for me on this momentous day, warms my heart.
“Look at you, Courtney! You’re already glowing,” Ginny exclaims, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy.
“Today’s the day,” Mimi adds, her voice tender. “Everything will be perfect.”
“Thanks to you two,” I say, my gratitude deep and genuine. If Ginny had never encouraged me to go to Bergovia, if Mimi hadn’t helped piece my heart back together on that awful day, then I don’t know where I would be right now.
“Aww. Your mom sent me some pictures.” Ginny holds up her phone to display images of Reya adorned in her tiny flower-girl dress. “She’s having the time of her life. She looks so excited.”
“Good,” I breathe out, enchanted by the sight of my little girl looking every bit the angel.
With my dress now hugging my frame, my bridesmaids add the finishing touches — a veil pinned gently into my hair, the light brush of blush across my cheeks, and a swipe of gloss to highlight my lips. It feels so surreal, looking into the mirror and seeing myself as a bride.
“Ready?” Mimi asks, her hand resting on the doorknob.
“More than ever,” I answer, my resolve firm.
We step outside, the clean air greeting us with the freshness of new beginnings. The car waits for us at the head of the driveway, and we clamber into the back of it, a little wedding party composed of lace, flowers, and giggles.
The palace is swarmed today, photographers, journalists, and onlookers hoping to catch a glimpse of the wedding. As the driver slows at the front gate, I roll down my window and wave to everyone. Excited well-wishes are thrown my way, and my chest swells with pride. This is my land. My people.
Everything seems to happen very quickly after that. We park close to the palace gardens, and my bridesmaids help me carry my train along the walkway. The gardens come into view, a verdant oasis meticulously cared for, not unlike the garden at our own home where I’ve spent hours nurturing life from the soil.
But today, the palace gardens are more than just a collection of flora — they are the canvas for our future.
I pause at the entrance, taking in the beauty that surrounds me. This is where Jakob and I will pledge our lives to each other, under the open sky, amidst the splendor of nature and in the middle of a country that always, even when I didn’t know it, held a piece of my heart and soul.
“Absolutely breathtaking,” I sigh, my heart full.
“Like something out of a fairy tale,” Ginny comments, her voice soft with awe.
“ Your fairy tale, Courtney,” Mimi reminds me, linking her arm with mine.
Together, we step into the garden, the murmurs of assembled guests reaching my ears like a gentle wave. It’s here, among the gentle rustle of leaves and the quiet symphony of nature, that I’ll become Jakob’s wife, solidifying a bond that feels as ancient as the earth beneath our feet and as fresh as the blooms that witness our union.
I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and move forward, ready to embrace the destiny that unfolded the moment I booked that flight to Bergovia two years ago — the impulsive act that led me to the life I was always meant to live.
And there he is, already waiting for me, like this simple act is exactly what he was created for. Jakob stands at the altar, a vision of poise and quiet strength. His eyes, brimming with emotion, lock onto mine as I make the final steps down the aisle lined with an abundance of wildflowers. The delicate lace of my dress brushes against the petals, a soft caress that echoes the fluttering in my heart.
“Courage,” I murmur to myself, though it’s not fear that courses through me — it’s pure, unbridled joy.
I reach Jakob, and the warmth of his hand envelops mine, a silent promise that’s more powerful than any words could ever be.
The ceremony unfolds like the most tender of melodies, each vow a note strung perfectly to the next. Our voices tremble with the strength of the love we profess, and when Jakob slips the ring onto my finger — a perfect fit — I know that this is the truest form of destiny.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Our lips meet, and there’s a cheer from the crowd — a sea of familiar faces all sharing in our bliss. When we part, it’s only to see the reflection of our happiness mirrored back at us, in the tears and smiles of those we hold dear. In the front row, my mom bounces Reya, who claps her hands in excitement, on her lap.
Jakob’s siblings are among the first to embrace us, their own paths to fulfillment shining in their eyes. Their pride is palpable — each one has carved out a niche where their passions and talents have flourished, yet they stand united in their support for Jakob.
“Brother, there’s no one better suited to lead,” Teddy says, clapping Jakob on the back with a broad smile.
“Absolutely,” agrees Christina. “Your heart is what will guide Bergovia to greatness.”
“Here, here!” choruses Oliver, the explorer, his adventurous spirit never dimming, even in the formality of this grand occasion.
With every word, every heartfelt congratulation, I feel like I might burst from joy. It’s not just a marriage that’s been celebrated today — it’s the binding of a family, a country, to the hope that Jakob represents.
We’re ushered forward, on to photos and cake and dances. Hugs and kisses. Speeches and gifts. Reya falls asleep halfway through the afternoon, exhausted from all of it, her two grandmothers fluttering over her like the little princess she is.
As twilight approaches and people lounge across the lawn, drinks in hand, I let out a contented sigh. Jakob’s hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining naturally, like the roots of the ancient oak under which we’ve just spoken our vows. The chatter of our guests fades into a gentle hum as I cast my gaze upwards, where the first stars are beginning to twinkle in the dusky sky.
“Can you believe it?” I whisper, not quite to Jakob, but to the evening itself, to the universe that spun me into this moment. “This is our life now.”
Two years ago, the impulsive click on a flight-booking app felt like tossing a pebble into an ocean — small, inconsequential. But now, here in Bergovia, with my heart full and my world expanded in ways I’d never imagined, I realize that pebble caused ripples that have shaped my very existence.
Jakob squeezes my hand, bringing me back to the celebration around us. He doesn’t need to hear my words to understand; his cerulean eyes mirror my thoughts, reflecting a shared history that is both incredibly brief and as deep as time itself.
“Your grandmother would have loved to see this,” he says softly.
I nod, feeling a swell of emotion rise within my chest. My grandmother, who lived multiple lifetimes in one and who taught me to work hard and love even harder, would indeed be brimming with joy. In my mind’s eye, I see her smiling down at us, her spirit woven into the tapestry of stars above.
“Thank you, Grandma,” I breathe out, the words a silent prayer of gratitude. For her heart, her courage, and the values she instilled in me.
In the embrace of the night, surrounded by new family and old friends, by the love of my life and the daughter who has become the center of our universe, I am exactly where I am meant to be. A heartbeat in a country that pulses with history and promise, a page in a story that is only just beginning.
“Let’s make her proud,” I say to Jakob, my eyes meeting his with a conviction that flows from my very soul.
“We will,” he promises.
In the echo of those words, I feel the legacy of my grandmother’s spirit intertwine with the future of Bergovia — a future I leaped towards on a whim, a future that now holds everything precious to me.
“Come on, my queen,” Jakob teases, tugging me gently toward the festivities awaiting our return, the laughter and music beckoning us back to celebrate.
“Lead the way, my king,” I reply.
Our smiles are as bright as the constellations above, my heart soaring with a joy that knows no bounds. Together, we step forward, hand in hand, into the rest of our lives.
The End