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We move as a group out to the balcony box overlooking the plaza. Have you ever heard one million people shouting at one time? You’d think we had won the World Cup, but it’s just us. Just a family that happens to have the fortune of a long and storied history of being in charge of a tiny island nation. What on earth did I or these people in the box with me do to deserve this much attention?
The overwhelming sight and noise of the crowd make me glad we kept our wedding small and secret.
Yesterday, after Torben and I talked, we sneaked away to the gamekeeper’s cottage. From there, the gamekeeper, a soft-spoken fellow named Callum Black, put us in a small row boat and escorted us across the river. From there, we hiked a short distance to a remote clearing atop a hill. I gasped when I saw the sea, the sun just beginning to dip below the horizon. The clearing was overgrown with wildflowers, but someone had erected an impromptu wedding arch with flowering branches and vines. The trees were hung with lamps and silk ribbons, and everything glowed orange and pink as the sun descended.
Sig, Flora, and Callum came through with this perfect venue for us. Turns out, Callum is quite a romantic at heart, and Sig’s lifelong best friend. To everyone’s shock, Etienne came through as best man. He was even sober for it.
The Favored Prince walked with me, arm in arm, across the field of wildflowers, every step puncturing the air with warm, herbal scents. I blush as I recall the prince comparing my taste to the honey of a particular wildflower…this can’t be the one, though. That’s far too dirty for a royal wedding…isn’t it?
“Remind me to ask your brother to tell the story of how he became an ordained minister,” I whispered to Torben as we approached the wedding arch, Sig waiting, his expression unreadable under the wild beard.
My only regret was that my mama and the grands aren’t here in person.
When I’d agreed to go along with the plan, I made it clear that in a few weeks, we would be having a big, blowout ceremony and wedding back home in West Virginia, with April as my maid of honor, complete with a barn dance and a bluegrass band and a backyard barbecue. All the better if it lands on my thirtieth birthday next month.
The king and queen can come to that party if they want to.
For now, my insides churn at what’s about to happen in the balcony box.
The king makes a few remarks once the crowd quiets down.
“And now, I know what you all came here for today,” the king says, turning toward Kala to wave her forward. She simply curtseys but remains inside the room, not daring to enter the balcony box. The king barely has time to express his consternation when Torben deftly takes the microphone from his father, then motions for me to join him.
I ignore the look of shock and betrayal on the king’s face, but I can’t ignore the tired resignation on the queen’s.
I take Torben’s arm, and he leads me to the center of the railing.
The faces of the people below are deliriously happy to see me, and it’s all I can do to keep from bursting into tears. Tears of joy and of staggering overwhelm.
“I know this is unorthodox, but you see,” Torben says to the crowd, “I’ve fallen in love with an unorthodox woman.”
More cheers, hollers, screams, and noisemakers. It feels like a sporting event. God, even the ring on my finger can’t prevent me from feeling like a fraud.
“So in love, I’ve already married her!”
Pandemonium. Complete and utter chaos, of the best kind. That’s what I see at Arenhammer City Plaza.
* * *
The chaos in the Arenhammer Plaza Hotel…well, it ain’t the best kind.
The king storms off, and the queen soon follows, not bothering to acknowledge either of us.
After a few more brief remarks, we leave the crowd to their celebrations and retreat inside to face the music.
Kala, bless her heart, is on her way out.
“Stop right there,” shouts the king.
The security guards close the balcony doors, muting the sound outside. Thank goodness, I was about to suffer a migraine.
Kala freezes, turning to the king. “Your majesty?” She does not make eye contact.
“My business with you is not finished,” says my now-father-in-law. What the heck is that supposed to mean?
But instead of explaining further, the king turns to face us, his face suffused with rage. “How dare you humiliate the family like that!”
“The family? Or just you, Father?”
