They remained standing for long minutes while they panted and caught their breath. She broke the silence first.
“We’ve been gone from the ball for a long time. People have probably noticed.”
He kissed her neck. “Are you really worried about that?”
“I’m worried about your father noticing.”
“Don’t worry about my father. He’ll understand.”
At her skeptical look, he smiled. “Just so you know, I already asked my father permission to marry you and he agreed. He’ll probably ask you for a dance once we return to the ballroom.”
She sighed. “Gabriel. Why didn’t you say earlier?”
“Because it’s so fun to tease you, in so many different ways. I could announce our engagement tonight. We do have a ballroom full of guests and an official photographer who can take pictures for the paper.”
“Is that my proposal? Because it’s not very good.”
He grinned, then stepped away to find his pants. He pulled out a small, square, velvet box.
“Gabriel?”
He knelt naked on one knee before his naked Vie and the box cricked open. Inside was a amethyst and diamond ring, arranged to mimic a purple rose. His Vie was just like a rose and she’d bloomed so much since he’d met her.
“My dear Genevieve, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?”
Her hand reached for the ring, even while she said, “This is how you ask? When we’re both naked and sweaty and about to be found in a compromising situation by your father?”
He smiled even broader. “Is that a yes?”
The tension left her body and she replied softly, “Yes. Yes, I will marry you. I love you, Gabriel.”
He quickly stood and kissed her, twirling her in a circle before setting her down again. He slid the ring on, kissed her again, this time gentle and sweet. He wanted to take her again, but decided he could save that fun for later. So they cleanedup, dressed, and snuck back into the party to announce their engagement.
epilogue
It’s too soon. It’s fucking way too soon. And everyone will hate me because we’re not married yet. But is it wrong to also feel happy? ~ Gen’s journal, January 1975
GENEVIEVE
“Oh Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
It was too soon. Sure they were getting married, and yes, they had had sex, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be pregnant!
Pacing inside the small doctor’s office, she angry-whispered, “This is all your fault.”
Gabriel merely smiled. He had been practically giddy since she’d told him of her suspicions. “I’ll gladly take the blame, my dear, but it takes two to fuck. We used protection; if that failed, it can’t be helped.”
“Why isn’t the monarchy investing in better birth control? Do you know that I can’t even ask for birth control pills as a single woman? Only married women can? It’s such fucking bullshit.” Pace, pace, pace. She couldn’t stop. She had the feeling if she stopped, suddenly it would become all too real.
She wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t ready for any of this.
As if sensing her mental collapse was near, Gabriel grasped her hand when she paced close to him, and pulled her into his lap. She initially fought him, then curled tightly into him.
He ran a hand down her back, his head resting against hers. “It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
Oh but it would. “I told you we would be a bad idea.” She hated how shaky her voice sounded. “Now I’m probably pregnant, and I’ll have to waddle down the aisle pregnant and everyone will think I trapped you into this?—”
“It’s the other way around, surely.”
