Hutton

On the back lawn of Sutcliffe Palace, the sun is high, spring is in the air, and Ally and I exchange our wedding vows. It isn’t the huge ceremony of the coronation, but it’s intimate with our family, a few friends, and the new crowned Queen of Brudenbourg in attendance.

It’s cool to tell people that, but what’s just as cool is our old friends, The Crow Brothers. Not only had they hit record gold, but they were now one of the biggest bands in the world. They also made the time to attend.

Just like mine, their hearts are on lockdown. I can’t seem to get over how much has changed in a year, but I’ve never been happier.

Under an arch of pink roses, the blue eyes of my bride rival any above my head, and I slip a ring befitting a queen on her finger. No princess cut for her.

A three-carat Royal Asscher cut diamond that blinds me—almost as much as the price tag did—sparkles on her left hand. Almost. True love has no price though. She’s worth it and more to me. And I’m the proud new owner of a platinum band that I’ll wear with pride.

Ally looks up at me with all the love I’ll ever need, and says, “I wasn’t born to rule. I was born to love you.”

I kiss her under an arch of love, gratitude, and appreciation. Something I intend to do every day for as long as I shall live.

“What the fuck? I’m coming.” Searching every room I pass, I keep walking until I reach the door. With Ally, Singer, Margie, and Marielle in a bread-baking lesson with Birgit, I’ve been exploring the place. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to answer a knock at the palace, but no one else seems to be around.

We’ve been here for over a week, and I’m ready to jet home with my lovely bride, but she wanted to spend a few extra days, telling me she doesn’t need a fancy honeymoon because every day with me is a dream come true.

She’s got some good lines.

I turn the large brass knob in the center of the blue ten-foot door and pull open the right door. Standing there as if he has a fucking right to is Duke Dick himself. I fucking level him. I’m bad with all the royal terms, so I assume his footmen or whatever they’re called running up the steps are here to help him.

Maybe Ally’s father was right. There’s some bad still inside me. That’s what makes me so right for her, though, so I make no apologies for my behavior or for punching him.

While he rubs his chin, he’s propped back on his feet by his dudes. I’m about to take him down again when he waves a white hanky. “Is that supposed to be a surrender flag?”

“Yes. Don’t hit me again. I’m surrendering.”

I stare at him in disgust. “You’re weak and pathetic, you know that?”

“Yes, I do, but I don’t know why you hit me.”

My mind tracks back to a few days prior when Ally found the footage from the night she and the duke were on the terrace. Although I’d heard the gist a long time ago, seeing him grab her and touch her in ways that make me want to kill him doesn’t keep me from throttling him against the palace doors now.

I am a Texas gentleman, though, so I let go of him and watch as he slides to the tiled platform. This time, his guys don’t rush to help. In fact, they give a slight grin. They can’t say it, but I can. “Yeah, he’s an asshole.”

Ally rushes out the door and skids to a stop. “Oh my God!” As her eyes narrow on him, and she can see he’s going to be fine, she hugs me. “My hero.”

“You bet your fine ass I am.”

When Marielle arrives with her hands fisting at her sides, she says, “I summoned you six hours ago.”

On his hands and knees still gasping for air, he says, “I was busy.”

“Too busy for your queen?”

“My apologies.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Marielle corrects.

“My apologies, Your Majesty.”

She shakes her head and looks at her sister. “This should have been done a long time ago.” With her guards flanking her side, she walks until her feet are under his panting head. “Look at me.” When he does, she strips the epaulet from one shoulder and then the other. “You, sir, are no longer a duke of anything. You should vacate the premises of your home, the duke’s home, immediately. If you don’t, you’ll be removed by force and will be considered an enemy of our country. Do you understand, Mr. Vaughn?”

“I do,” he spits at her feet.

“Good. Go about your day and leave my grounds.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I nod. For the quiet mouse Marielle used to be, she’s grown into her stripes and fights like a tiger. He pushes up and heads for the vehicle. The two men remain on the platform. “That’s the duke’s SUV. You’ll need to find another way to wherever you’re going.”

I say, “That royal thing puts the fear of hell in people.”

“So does beheading,” Marielle says as she turns and walks inside.

Singer says, “I thought Brudenbourg never beheaded anyone?”

Casual and jovial, Marielle heads back toward the kitchen, the conversation flowing back to us. “We don’t talk about it. It’s rare, but it’s happened.” She stops and turns back. “Hey, sis?” she adds. “How’d I do?”

Ally grins. “Spoken like a true queen.”