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Prologue
King Nolan Augustspun his new daughter-in-law around the dance floor of the castle’s spacious but crowded ballroom. The ballroom was lauded as one of the most beautiful rooms in the kingdom of Augustine. Two stories of windows and balconies made up the exterior wall, scalloped moldings plated with fourteen-karat gold lined the ceiling and decorated walls, and expertly painted murals depicted love stories from long ago. The Baccarat chandeliers combined crystal glass with gilt bronze and were often gaped at by first-time visitors.
Tonight, with the royal wedding of the beloved crown prince, the room was draped in twinkling lights, white chiffon, and white gardenias. It smelled and looked lovely. Any ballroom in Europe would be hard pressed to compare in beauty and majesty.
Throughout his over thirty years of being the king, Nolan had focused on the business of running Augustine and had left the beautifying to his wife Anne. Thankfully, Arianna, the royal stylist and more, and his daughters-in-law, had all stepped up and taken over that role as he would’ve been lost even attempting to hire the right people for an event such as this.
The traditional wedding dances were over, but the bride Jennifer Shule had felt like one of Nolan’s own children even before she and Tristan had wed. Her dad had been Nolan’s closest friend for years and they’d worked closely together when Henry was the prime minister of Augustine. Henry had stepped down as prime minister because his wife Leslie had inadvertently killed Anne, Nolan’s beloved wife and the queen.
Nolan pushed that away and smiled and laughed and teased with Jennifer. He missed Anne constantly, but never more than on nights like this. Still, he kept smiling and working long hours for his family and his country. Sometimes the distraction of never-ending demands helped assuage his grief. Spending time with his family, especially his twelve-year-old daughter Kiera, was the only thing that truly took away the pain. Though it still lingered when the thoughts ofAnne would’ve loved thisorthey need Anneinvaded.
This Christmas wedding had been ideal. No bombs like Malik and Sophie’s wedding. No Rindlesbachers showing up. Yet. Only Naomi was still alive, and she hadn’t been spotted in months. Interpol, the European Union, and Sutton Smith all agreed she was deep in hiding. His son Ray, the general of Augustine, and Ray’s best friend Chief Jensen had sworn to him no Rindlesbacher cronies or threats would get anywhere near this wedding.
The groom was his oldest son, Crown Prince Tristan, and the bride was the perfect fit to someday be queen. They’d loved each other for years, and today was an epic celebration.
Nolan had lost Anne almost a year ago now. He took great solace in each of his sons being happily married and his daughter Kiera being a delight to everyone. He spotted Kiera twirling with Malik and Sophie’s adorable Sunny,thePrincess Sunny if you asked the little one, and of course Nolan was King Papa. He smiled at the pair of them.
“Kiera is darling with Sunny,” Jennifer said, following his gaze.
“They’re both such a light to all of us.” He focused back on his new daughter-in-law. “As are you. I’m grateful T has been blessed with you as his wife, and we’re all blessed to have you in our family.”
“Thank you, Nolan.” Her eyes got bright. “I can’t tell you how I appreciate your forgiveness and love for my mum and dad.”
“Your dad is my closest friend, and we’re all praying your mum can heal and forgive herself.”
“Thank you.”
The song ended, and Tristan appeared by Nolan’s side. “Can I steal my beautifulwife?”
“Of course.” Nolan handed her over, smiling at his son’s emphasis on the word wife.
Jennifer laughed. “Oh my, Mr. Crown Prince, you seem to really love that moniker.”
“All the better because you’re all mine now, my dear.”
A new song began, and Tristan whisked Jennifer away. Their eyes lit up and their bodies melded together.
Nolan was thrilled for their happiness. If only he could share this with Anne. It was always more special having her to share these moments with. Most of his sons and especially his sweetheart daughters-in-law had pushed him to ‘think about dating’ or ‘open his heart to the possibility of falling in love again.’
Nolan never scoffed at them, of course. He always kept a smile on his face as he gently told them he wasn’t ready, but inside he recoiled at the thought. He had neither the time nor the energy to date, and he doubted he’d ever find a love like Anne’s again. He and Anne had been friends for years. She’d actually dated Henry in college, but after college Nolan and Anne had slowly fallen in love. Their love had been steady, enduring, and committed. She’d always been there for him, their children, and their kingdom. Anne had been a shining beacon of sweetness, charity, and beauty.
He’d need a sign from heaven to know when the time was right. Currently, several women who had to be closer to Tristan and Ray’s age than his were eyeing him as if he were a Lindt chocolate bar and they hadn’t indulged in years. Blast that internet article claiming he was the most powerful, handsome, and wealthy bachelor over thirty, not to mention a king. The article had shown him stepping out of his Lamborghini Veneno. It had gone viral, and his guards had become busier keeping conspiring women away than keeping him safe from Naomi Rindlesbacher.
He averted his gaze, searching for one of his family members. He bumped into someone soft and firm at the same time.
“Pardon me,” he said, glancing down into the emerald eyes of none other than Madeline Prescott, Chad’s mum and one of the only members of parliament who always made him smile.
“I suppose I have no choice but to pardon you, seeing as you are ‘King Papa’,” she teased with a smile on her stunning face. She was a celebrated beauty, and he knew men pursued her constantly, but she’d been single as long as Nolan had known her. Chad was his son Tristan’s best friend, and he’d shared with Nolan that his dad deserted them when he was four and he had only foggy memories of a smiling man who had laughed a lot.
Nolan should’ve teased and walked away, but for some reason—melancholy at marrying off the last of his sons, lonely and imagining Madeline might relate to his plight as a brave single mum, or was it recklessly brave as the last time she approached him at a wedding Madeline was carrying a bomb—he eased in closer and said, “Join me for a dance?”
Her eyes widened. She looked him over, and Nolan found himself straightening. He’d heard from different sources, besides the internet articles, that he was ‘devastatingly handsome’ and ‘fit and perfectly proportioned.’ He always laughed at such terms, usually flung at him by Ellery’s Aunt Elise who was as inappropriate as she was fun.
“Your bravery is lauded throughout Europe, but are you certain you want to dance with me? You and I don’t have an encouraging track record at weddings.”
Nolan chuckled, happy he could do so. At Malik and Sophie’s wedding two months ago, Madeline had been drugged and staggered his direction with a bomb disguised as a present.
“A dance with you is worth the risk,” he thought he said as gallantly and charming as Malik or her son Chad might, “Unless you’re hiding a bomb in that lovely dress?”
