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I’m the word guy. I have to say it first.
"Okay, let's see yours,” she’s says. “I've only seen it in pictures. And I have to admit it was pretty hot. I’ll bet in person it’s even better."
I grin down at her. "You like the pictures of me in my crown?"
"I like pictures of you in anything."
"That is a very good answer."
I puff out a breath and then lift my crown to my head. It always feels weird. Heavy. Strange. There's so much more that goes with wearing this crown than just having a piece of heavy metal with jewels on my head.
But tonight, as I settle it on my head in the mirror and watch my wife's eyes light up, and a smile curve her lips—a smile that’s proud, a touch possessive, and more than a little turned on—suddenly the weight of the crown is a little lighter.
We gather at the front of the palace on the steps with the rest of the family. My grandfather and grandmother are here, along with my mother, and my younger brother, with his best friend, Henry, standing in the background.
Linnea, her sister, and her parents are also here with us. The other assistants and bodyguards, including Jonah and Miles, stand behind all of them. It’s a strange assortment of people. But the cameras are flashing as if we are truly a bunch of celebrities.
Technically we’re here waiting for guests to arrive so that we can greet them. But we’re out here a little early so that people—media, and the public, whoever wanted to gather—can get any shots they want.
Unlike the paparazzi in the States, no one here calls out questions or asks us to turn to give them a different view of what we’re wearing. But there are a lot of people gathered, and we all know, even though we’re not saying it, that it's because Abigail is here.
Though, in fairness, the country loves Cian. He’s not wearing a crown because he has not rescinded his abdication. He’s technically just a guy here at the palace for dinner. But Cara still considers him a prince, and his charm, good looks, and philanthropic contributions around the island have made the country forgiving toward the youngest royal, who would have likely never taken the throne anyway.
Astrid is also popular and beloved by the people. Everyone in Cara has followed her since she first started competing in international gymnastics competitions. Every household in Cara owns her book, and the gymnastics academy here—founded by her grandfather and named for her—is full of little girls who worship her.
When news got out that both Cian and Astrid would be here, it brought an even bigger crowd than just having Abigail finally out in public view. In fact, there’s a giddy electricity in the air tonight.
Abigail's hand is in mine, and she's clutching my fingers tightly. She has not thrown up, and I assume that’s only because she is not out here alone and does not have to actually address the crowd. That said, I'm ready to sweep her up and I know exactly the potted plant we’re going for if she does suddenly say the magic words “I'm going to be sick”.
Finally, our guests start to arrive.
The first three men and their wives are men who could be labeled as my grandfather's closest friends now that Alfred is gone. But they don’t play poker with him, have probably never seen him drunk, and, as far as I know, do not have any granddaughters promised to marry either of my brothers. They are also, of course, important men who conduct business both in Denmark and here in Cara. They also serve as Royal Advisors. They are supposed to advise my grandfather on trade agreements and business policy. However, they tend to share opinions on just about everything.
The next two cars deliver my grandmother's best friends and their husbands.
Again, they are mostly friends, but the women absolutely give my grandmother counsel when it comes to various issues and, of course, gossip around the island.
The last to arrive is my mother's best friend. Her husband was also close to my father. I've known Ella and Anton my entire life and it is nice to see them.
They greet me warmly and seem genuinely happy to meet my new wife.
Finally, greetings are complete, photos are done, and we are inside and seated around the table. I made sure that Abigail was seated between me and Linnea with Astrid and Jonah straight across from us and Cian just next to him. She is surrounded by friends and people that she's comfortable talking to.
"Wow. This salad is amazing," Astrid says to no one in particular.
Abigail immediately straightens. "You think so? We grew everything that's in that salad on our farm."
Astrid looks over, clearly not sure what to say. "Oh. That’s…cool."
"I mean, our new indoor farm. At Torin’s ranch. Linnea’s probably told you all about it.”
Astrid looks at her sister, then back to Abigail. “No. We haven’t talked about farms.”
“We’re building indoor farms,” Abigail tells her, before Linnea can say a word. “We can grow anything. Year-round. The farms were Torin’s idea.” She gives me a bright smile, but immediately turns back to Astrid. “Besides the salad, the Brussels sprouts also came from the farm. And later there will be chocolate dipped strawberries and apple tarts. Of course, just the apples were grown on the farm. Not the crust. They made that here. Obviously.”
She’s rambling. I can’t help but smile. Some might think it’s because of nerves, but I know it’s because this is what gets Abigail going. I put my hand on her thigh under the table and squeeze.
She puts her hand on top of mine and keeps going. “The strawberries are especially great though. They’re Torin’s favorite. And I make the chocolate. From bean to bar. I have cacao trees and I harvest the beans and do everything from scratch. Oh! And I brought cacao pulp and juice. A lot of people don’t even know about the pulp and juice that come from cacao pods. It’s delicious and it’s got vitamins B, D, E, and magnesium. You all really need to try it.”
