Page 22 of The Forever Match

When she released her, Victoria pointed at the window. “It’s stopped raining.”

“I noticed. About fucking time. English weather is batshit crazy.” Her friend’s hair stuck up at all angles, but she loved seeing this less official, less glamorous side of Astrid. “Sofia is downstairs with the palace chef, driving him mad trying to help with pancakes. But he’s such a gentleman, he’d never tell her to fuck off.”

Victoria was pretty sure that wasn’t part of his chef training. “We better go rescue Angelou, before he implodes from politeness.”

As she turned to grab her dressing gown, Astrid clasped her hand, making Victoria stop in her tracks.

“How you feeling? Excited? Nervous? Sick? I remember our wedding, and I felt all three. Having this much exposure magnifies everything. But at least in Sweden, we don’t have the right-wing nuts telling everyone crazy shit. You do.” She squeezed her hand. “Just remember, today is your day. You’re brave as fuck, and you’re a queen in all but title. And I love you.”

Victoria’s bottom lip trembled as she pulled Astrid in for a hug. More than anyone else in the world, Astrid understood the pressures of being the next in line to the throne and a lesbian. Even if Sweden was more accepting, it still went against the norm. Victoria closed her eyes and imagined today being over.

But that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to enjoy the day, too. She was going to try her hardest to do so.

Today was going to be a trial, however she looked at it. It wasn’t her day. It never would be. But she could have parts of it. When she eventually saw Ash in the ceremony, that would be hers. How much they loved each other was all hers, too. Their first kiss away from the cameras would be all hers. Ash in her arms forever more: hers.

Victoria shook her head as she pulled away from Astrid, holding back tears. “Don’t make me cry so early in the day, please. Right now, I need coffee and pancakes, and you to tell me how beautiful I look.” She leaned in and kissed Astrid’s cheek. “Also, I love you, too.”

Chapter 10

The Glass Coach was ready and waiting when Victoria and her father, King Oliver, stepped into the Palace courtyard. Even though they couldn’t see the crowd yet, Victoria could hear them, feel their energy. The buzz made her own heart vibrate below her sternum. Her fingertips traced the ruby necklace on her chest. She couldn’t wait until the sapphire-and-diamond ring was on her finger.

Her father looked every bit the King in his full naval attire, white sash across his front, gold lapels on his shoulders.

Hot on their heels was Michael, looking equally dapper in his army uniform, replete with many medals from his active time in service. He’d reached the rank of captain before the family told him he had to give up, and he’d been searching for his role in life ever since. His smile now he was back in uniform was broad.

“You look beautiful, Vic,” he told her, kissing her hand.

A shiver of happiness tiptoed up her spine. “Are you riding with us?” She frowned, trying to remember what the plan was, then remembered not to do that. She had so much mascara on that any facial movement was likely to stick her eyelashes together, which wasn’t the look she was going for.

Michael shook his head. “I’m with Mother and Gran in the carriage behind you. The ultimate cock-blockers.”

“Michael!” their father said, but Victoria could see him biting back a laugh.

“Aunt Abigail and Uncle Colin are in the next one with our Kent family, but having been upgraded, they’ve gone awol. Mother is less than impressed.”

Right at that moment, the Queen walked out, resplendent in a royal blue dress, matching jacket and a peacock hat with netting. The royal security detail hovered close by. Today was a national event, and this was the sort of thing they were trained for.

“Honestly, Oliver. I despair of your family. Alfie was at the good brandy last night and looks rather green this morning. Colin and Abigail are trying to sort him out.”

Alfie was Victoria’s 19-year-old cousin who’d got a little excited the night before. Her mother checked her watch.

“Desmond has gone to tell them to hurry up, but if they’re not here on time, the procession is leaving without them. Ashleigh and her cars have just pulled in, so we need to leave in ten minutes at the latest.”

Warmth bloomed in Victoria’s chest at the mention of Ash. She was here. She’d made it. Step one complete.

In contrast, her father’s face creased with concern. “I’m sure they’ll make it.” But his stiff demeanour suggested otherwise. “They won’t want to miss this, will they? My brother’s always wanted to ride in a royal coach.”

The Queen sighed. “We’re meant to be focusing on Victoria today. If they arrive in time, I will be telling them that.”

“I’m sure you will.” The King gave a practised smile, his tone weary.

“Anyway, bringing the mood back up,” Michael said, “good luck with all the waving and the getting married. I know you’ll smash it.”

“Thanks, Bro.” Victoria fist-bumped him.

The Queen rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’d think you two had been dragged up. None of that when the cameras are on, please. Remember, the eyes of the world are on you, and nobody wants to see a princess fist-bumping.”

“On the contrary. I’ve broken with tradition, and by and large, the country are in support. Don’t you think they could absorb a fist-bump, too?” If she couldn’t do it on her wedding day, when could she?