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“Good timing, we just arrived ourselves,” she said when she reached me.
Leaning over, I kissed the side of her cheek, placing my hand on her waist. “Are you all right, bevilën?”
“Yes. Do I not look all right?” she questioned back, not understanding me.
Maybe I was just imagining it. “Never mind. How was your brunch?”
“Fine, Josseline is great. I was a little worried at first. I think, however, she has bigger aspirations,” she whispered, and I glanced over to the pair standing stiffly in front of each other, speaking.
Yeah, I definitely imagined something was wrong with Odette, and I needed to stop. Because I was blessed not to be struggling over whatever it was that they were struggling with.
“You think we can get our photo and ditch?” I nearly begged. I wanted to keep my promise and do something she’d been waiting to do. “We have to leave tomorrow night at the latest, and we still haven’t done anything you wanted to do—”
“You are always staying by me, right?” she asked.
“Always and forever.”
“Then we’ll have a moment to go wherever and be cheesy later.”
Dammit, I wanted to kiss her. But instead, they called us over for a photo. I wasn’t going to give up on this trip. We’d have a moment no matter what.
We had just made it when Odette saw an old, black, short woman standing next to her husband. They were both so old they needed walkers. When they realized she was looking at them, they grinned wide, their hands shaking as they did. So the rest of the people around them were calling out to us…to her.
“Do you know them?” I asked her.
She shook her head.
“Give us one moment!” I said to the photographers and the prime minister. “Then let’s get to know them.”
The moment we stepped closer, the people behind were held back by French police, Iskandar, Thelma, the other one—all of them came rushing around us. And when we were close enough, the older woman reached out for Odette’s hand. Thelma went to stop her, but Odette held her hand out and took the older woman’s thick, dark, wrinkled hand. But she began to speak in French. Odette quickly looked at me. Stepping closer, I tried my best to listen and translate.
“We are praying for you…both of you,” the older woman said as her husband grabbed me, and Iskandar looked like he was having a heart attack. He was ready to cry. But I did my best to focus on the old pair in front of us.
“I’d never thought I’d live to see it. Never thought such a thing was possible. You’ve changed the world, young lady…Your Majesty. My great-grandbabies are always trying to be like you. They live in a world where you are possible. You’re a hero if you don’t know. A real-life hero. I hope you get all the good things,” I translated, but she was speaking so low. When she looked at me, she nodded happily…almost dreamlike. “You…you, sir, you’ve done well. Very well. You two are good together.”
“Merci,” I said to her.
When I glanced at Odette, her eyes were glazed over as her lips quivered, outstretching her arms, hugging both of them.
All I did was marry a woman I loved.
I married the woman I was told to marry.
I couldn’t really wrap my mind around what they were feeling, but I knew how they made me feel like a superhero. If that was how I was feeling, only God knew how she was feeling.
She looked in a daze and remained in one even after they let us go, and Iskandar ushered us to take a photo. From here, we still had to go to the ambassador’s house for a late lunch, so I couldn’t ask her what she was thinking about.
“Odette?”
“Hmm?” She blinked, looking up at me.
I didn’t know what to say. “Never mind.”
“On three. One, two, three…”
We all smiled as the photographer took the photo.
“And this sword, sir, was gifted to my family by your great-great-great-grandmother Queen Margery II,” Ambassador Hervé Leloup said to me as he showcased the dark-red sheath sword in a clear case under a framed portrait of old Queen Margery.
