Epilogue
Valentina
Two Months Later
I find Max in the gardens at Belladonna Palace, throwing a ball for Toffee on one of the lawns. Now six months old, she’s growing into those huge puppy paws of hers, but is just as full of life as she always has been.
I watch as my handsome boyfriend—aka Ledonia’s most eligible bachelor—crouches down to pet his dog, ruffling her fur, and telling her what a good dog she is.
His sweater pulls just slightly across his broad shoulders as he moves, his forearms flexing, his face lit up in an affectionate smile that always undoes me whenever I see it.
Really, it shouldn’t be possible for a man to look that handsome while covered in dog hair, but somehow, he does.
He looks up at me, and his smile deepens as he rises to his feet. “My love,” he says, pulling me into an embrace and brushing a kiss across my lips. “I missed you.”
“You’ve only been here for a day without me,” I reply with a light laugh, because the truth is I missed Max, too. Over the last couple of months, since that fateful night at the Autumn Ball, we've rarely been apart, despite his royal duties and my new status as Valentina Romano, serious journalist.
The media attention has been a lot, but thankfully the palace has provided me with a security guard named Davide, whose only facial expression seems to be serious—although his moustache does twitch now and then when I make a joke.
He follows me around from the office to my interviews and everything in between.
Nona calls him Mr. Muscles, and he towers over me at 6’6”, and he’s forever parting the Red Sea of reporters for me.
Max gives me a squeeze, and I breathe in his wonderful Max scent, the very scent that caused me to fall right off my seat only a hundred yards from where we are right now. “Can’t a man miss his woman?” he asks.
“Oh, he can.” My heart squeezes as I look up into the eyes of this beautiful man I get to call my own.
Toffee barks at us, clearly feeling left out, her tail swiping from side to side. I greet her before Max collects the ball and hurls it for her across the lawn, and she tears after it.
“How did Judith like the new article?” he asks.
“She’s still pushing for our story, but she liked my take on my life as Fabiana.”
“From Lady to Liar to Love,” he says, quoting the title.
“You’ve got to love alliteration. And that’s the last time I’m mentioning that life. From now on, it’s newsworthy topics for me.”
“The state of the economy, global warming, whether Ledonia should change its national shade of red?” he teases.
“The last one in particular.”
“Good trip up here?” he asks as he takes my hand in his and together, we follow Toffee. She bounds over to one of the kids and drops her ball at his feet.
“Hey, Cedric!” I call out, giving him a wave.
He throws the ball for Toffee and waves back at me, his face pulled into a genuine smile. “Tent Lady!” He runs over to us.
“Her name is Valentina, Cedric,” Max says.
“Nah, she’s Tent Lady,” Cedric replies, and I give him a fist bump.
“Tent Lady. I’ll take it,” I reply with a shrug. “How’s today gone?”
“We rock climbed, and Max couldn’t work out how to get past this one spot, so Rocco had to help him,” Cedric says, his eyes bright.
“Oh, I sincerely hope Pippa filmed that,” I reply.
“She did,” Max replies with a roll of his eyes. “My failings will be all over your social media platforms by the weekend.”
I shove him playfully on the arm. “We agreed, remember? Show the country you doing the things the kids on the program do,” I say.
“I remember,” he replies with a soft smile that does things to my heart.
Toffee grows impatient once more, and Cedric picks up her ball and runs with it toward the cluster of tents, chased by an excited dog.
“Where’s your family?” Max asks. “I thought they came up with you?”
“They’re freshening up after the train ride. Thanks for sending the royal train, by the way. There’s nothing like traveling in style.”
“Nothing but the best for you, my darling.”
I smile up at him, my heart filled to the brim with love. “I’m so glad you see it that way.”
He pushes a strand of hair from my face, his fingertips sending a shiver down my spine. “For you, anything.” He leans down and presses his lips against mine once more, and instantly distant voices begin to hoot and holler.
Embarrassed, I look over at the group of teens, watching us with grins on their faces.
“Give a guy some privacy, will you?” Max calls back, and I give a mortified wave.
“To be fair, we are on the lawn where about twenty kids are staying in tents,” I say.
“Perhaps we need to take this elsewhere.” He waggles his eyebrows at me.
“Come on. Let’s go see your family.” He takes my hand in his once more and leads me back to the house, where Rocco is talking with Pippa on the patio.
His grin is half nerves, half pure adoration, like he can’t quite believe she’s talking to him.
“Are they…?” I ask Max under my breath.
“He’s had a thing for her since our first visit. Told me he’s going to ask her out.”
“Cute,” I reply, watching as Pippa giggles, her pretty face flushed. “My guess is it’ll be a ‘yes’.”
“I hope so. The guy’s obsessed.”
Pippa greets me with a hug. “Fab!”
“Pip,” I reply, genuinely pleased to see her. I greet Rocco with, “How’s it going?”
“Good, good,” he replies, no doubt wishing we hadn’t interrupted. He may well have been at the crucial moment in the conversation.
“I got some amazing footage today,” Pippa says.
“I heard! I’d love to see it,” I reply.
“Can I show it to you later?” Her eyes dart to Rocco, and she instantly turns shy.
My hunch is right on the money.
“Of course. No rush,” I reply with a smile.
“Leave you to it,” Max says, throwing Rocco a wink, who instantly shifts his weight, looking about as comfortable as Toffee wearing booties in the snow.
I give Pippa’s hand a squeeze. “No drinking the fountain water, remember?”
“I remember.”
Max and I make our way into the house, where we find Nona and Mr. Beckman in the living room.
“Good afternoon, Lady Romano, Mr. Beckman,” Max says as he greets them both warmly. “It’s wonderful to have you here at Belladonna.”
“Thank you so much for having us, Your Royal Highness,” Nona says, clutching his hands.
“Max, please,” he corrects.
“Or Maxie,” I tease, and he smiles at me, shaking his head.
“This place is stunning,” Mr. Beckman says. “I can see why you love it here so much.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s very special to me.” His eyes flash to mine. He’s not only referring to the fact that he’s always loved this house, ever since he was a little boy. This is the place where our love began, where he showed me who he really is, and where I began to fall in love with him.
“Where’s Lord Romano?” Max asks.
“If we’re going to call you Max, you must call me Vittorio,” a voice says from behind us, and we both turn to see my father, standing in the doorway, looking totally at home in his tweed jacket and salt and pepper hair.
My heart skips a beat at the sight of him here, still not used to having him back in Ledonia. And now he’s in the home of the family that once ruined him. But the son of the man who convicted him was the one who worked to clear his name.
It’s been a lot for him, for all of us, and I’m so grateful to have him back.
Papa returned to Ledonia amid a media storm soon after the Autumn Ball, where Max changed my life forever.
He’s been working to regain our Tenuta Fioralba, our family land, taken from him all those years ago, and he has a new zest for life that can only come from knowing his name has been cleared and he’s back in the country he loves.
“Welcome to Belladonna, Vittorio,” Max says as he clasps my father’s hand in his.
“I cannot tell you how good it is to be here,” Papa replies. “I owe you a great debt, Max. A great debt indeed.”
“If the investigation had been done correctly in the first place…” Max begins.
“Let’s not rake over old stones, son. What’s done is done, and all we can do is move on,” Papa replies magnanimously.
There’s something magical about seeing the two men I love shaking hands and showing genuine care for one another.
The way I feel about my father will always be complicated, thanks to the decision he made all those years ago to leave.
But he's still my father, and I love him.
Having him here with Nona and Mr. Beckman and Max is beyond special for me.
After everyone has drunk tea, we join the kids around the fire, eating sausages and laughing and telling stories and making s’mores, just like we did that first time I was here.
Max provides comfortable chairs for Nona and Mr. Beckman, who eat their food and then retire early, as the elderly often do.
“I have something to show you,” Max says softly as he snakes his hand around my waist.
“Now?”
“Now.”
“Where are you two off to?” Papa asks from his spot by the fire.
“I have something to show Val,” Max replies mysteriously. He leads me from the warmth of the fire around the back of the house, where the goats roam around a field, and I can hear the horses settling in for the night in the stables.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as we begin to climb the hill.
“Somewhere special.”
“A ball pit?” I ask.
He squeezes my hand. “Best kiss ever.”
We make our way past a thicket of trees, and as we approach a white wooden pergola, my breath catches in my throat.
Strung from the ceiling and down the columns are a host of fairy lights illuminating the space, with a red plaid picnic blanket and oversized cushions arranged on the floor, surrounded by candles.
“This is so romantic,” I say as we step up onto the pergola.
“Would you care to take a seat, mademoiselle,” Max asks with a glint in his eye, and as I settle onto the surprisingly comfortable picnic blanket, he places another blanket over us to keep us warm against the autumnal night air.
We lean back against the large cushions and look down the hill toward the house, the tents, and the fire in the distance. I snuggle against his chest, and he wraps his arms around me, holding me close.
“This is wonderful,” I say, taking in the view.
“I used to play on this pergola as a boy. Sofia would be the queen of the castle—”
“Of course.”
“—and Amelia, Alex, and I would be her army, fighting off whatever enemy it was that day.”
“I fear for the future of our country,” I joke. “Thank you so much for inviting my family here. It means a lot to them, especially my papa.”
He places a kiss on the top of my head. “I know it does, but I've done it for purely selfish reasons.”
I turn to look up into his eyes, his face lit in the soft glow of the lights. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I had a rather important question to ask your nona and papa.”
My brows spring upwards, no clue what that question might be. “You did?”
He shifts his weight, and before I know what's happening, he bends a knee, popping open a small velvet box encasing a stunning Ledonian red ruby, flanked by diamonds.
My heart stutters as I look from the ring into Max’s eyes.
Does this mean…?
Is he about to…?
Oh, my.
“My darling Valentina,” he begins, his voice low and steady, his eyes dark with intensity.
“We may not have had a typical journey to get where we are now, but I wouldn't have changed it for the world.
In these past months, you've grown to mean everything to me, and I want you in my life now, and always.”
My heart is thrashing in my chest, my belly clenched tight as my breath comes short and sharp.
It’s happening.
“Valentina Romano, will you do me the great honour of never really growing up with me, of always making sure to do what’s in our hearts, and most importantly, of becoming my wife?”
He barely finishes his sentence before I throw myself at him, peppering his face with kisses, saying, “Yes, yes, yes! Yes, I'll marry you. Max, I love you, I love you!”
He lets out a soft laugh before he captures my lips with his, sweeping me up in the most heartfelt kiss, filled with love.
We remain locked together, holding one another close as tears spring to my eyes, tears of joy and of love and of everything we've been through to get to this point.
To become us. Max and Valentina, not Man-Child and Fabiana, but the real us. The people we were always meant to be.
Eventually, as we pull apart, he murmurs, “Would you like to try the ring on?”
“The ring! Of course,” I say with a gurgling laugh I can barely contain.
I hold my hand out for him, shaking slightly, and he slides the ring onto my finger. We both look down at it, sparkling in the light, looking absolutely perfect.
“Max, it's beautiful,” I whisper.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he replies, and as I look up into his eyes, I cannot imagine my life without him in it, this man I once thought was an overgrown child, a pointless member of the royal family, without a serious bone in his body, a man I had nothing good to say about other than comment on his genetic jackpot.
A man I love with all my heart, a man who has made everything in my life so much better.
A man I get to spend the rest of my life with.