Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Will Adeline be joining you on your broadcasts?” one reporter asked, hopeful.
“Maybe.” I glanced over at Addie and smiled. “She’s easy to fall in love with, isn’t she?”
“As are you,” Addie said, smiling back at me.
Just as the cameraman was counting down to cut the broadcast, I leaned over and kissed her lips. I could swear I heard my mother’s gasp from across the room, but I didn’t care. To hell with tradition.
Epilogue
“This is history in the making. This will be the first queen to have gone to college. The first queen who has no aristocratic blood. Today, we will get a glimpse of—”
I switched the television off and let the remote control fall on the couch beside me. My nerves were shot without the journalists reminding me of what I was and what I wasn’t. Despite the media being kind to me, for the most part, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the people. My stomach growled again. The seamstress making last-minute adjustments to my gown looked up at me.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat, Your Majesty?”
“I’m sure.”
I didn’t bother to correct the title she gave me. I’m not Her Majesty yet, though in a few short hours that would change. It was something I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to. The Queen Mother assured me I would, but she’d always been referred to as such. Pilar told me it’d grow on me. Aramis said he didn’t know who he’d be without the title. I was unlike any of them. Without a title, I was still me. I’d spoken to Elias at length about the weight of the burden having such a title carried and he also couldn’t relate to my stance on the matter. He couldn’t seem to comprehend how I hadn’t wrapped my head around the whole thing, despite my being in full-on queen training for the last eight months.
It wasn’t the appearances or the work I was doing on behalf of the Crown that was awkward for me. It was people treating me like I was more important than them—like we weren’t equals—that I wasn’t sure I could get used to. I had the Queen Mother in one ear, reminding me not to hug people, not to kneel on the floor when I saw children I wanted to greet. In the other ear, I had my own mother, reminding me that I was a human being just like the rest of them. I looked in the mirror and let my gaze fall on the ivory gown I wore, with intricate lace details on the sleeves and bust. My hair was swept up in the front and held in place with a small tiara and a veil that would trail twenty feet behind me. My makeup was very natural. The makeup artist said it was too natural, but I didn’t care. I felt like myself. Even though my dress and tiara were not unlike the queens before me, my smile was genuine, because unlike them, I was truly marrying the love of my life, the man of my dreams, and it wasn’t for theatrics or out of duty.
When the door swung open behind me and the Queen Mother walked in with Pilar and my mother trailing behind them, the seamstress let go of my veil and let me turn around for them.
“You look beautiful.” My mother’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“Like an angel,” Pilar whispered.
“Like a queen.” The Queen Mother smiled.
“You’re going to make me cry.” I pressed a hand to my chest, blinking rapidly.
They all rushed over and fluffed me up just as the photographer picked up the camera and began snapping shots of us. Soon, we were ushered out. Every single aspect of this day was timed, even my bathroom breaks. We’d gone over everything for two weeks—dress rehearsals, photography rehearsals with stand-ins from the palace, food rehearsals, breaks. Every single thing that was to happen today would happen only if it fit into the schedule. Because it was being televised, we had no choice but to follow the timeline. Outside the palace, my father was waiting for me beside the carriage we were to take. To say it had been a long eight months would be an understatement. I had no intention of forgiving my father for shunning me and turning away from me in my time of need, but every day he kept showing up—for me, for Elias. He stopped speaking poorly of the Crown and what it stood for. Instead, he rallied behind Elias and when he didn’t agree with his choices, he spoke to him in private.
He’d stopped taking my mother to court over the divorce settlements and paid her what they initially agreed upon. He took her to lunch and dinner and cheered her on when Pirouette was recognized as one of the best event-planning businesses in London and now France. I smiled as he walked toward me.