CHAPTER NINE
Emma jumped out of bed. “Hold on a moment.” She rapidly ran a comb through her hair and splashed water on her face, as if that would make her seem like less of a fraud in Beatriz’s eyes. She unlocked the door and opened it.
Darias’s sister was elegantly dressed in a navy blue ensemble, her face made up and her hair in a neat bun. “Oh, you’re not up yet.” She glanced at Emma’s pajamas.
“What time is it?”
“Ten to ten.”
“Oh, goodness. The wedding dress appointment. I had no idea it was so late. I guess it’s only two A.M. in New York right now.”
“Don’t worry. I already called them, and they’re going to bring a big selection of dresses to the palace at noon.” Beatriz came in and closed the door behind her. “It’s easier for Mama not to be out and about so much right now. People are whispering behind their hands.”
Emma nodded, feeling rather cornered. “I’m so sorry to hear about what happened. Very shocking.”
“Almost as shocking as the news that my twin brother is about to marry someone he’s never mentioned to any of us before.”
Perhaps it was a good time to be honest. Just a little bit honest. “The need for him to be married in order to take the throne precipitated things. I’m not sure he’d even thought about marrying me until that happened.”
Beatriz scrutinized her with deep brown eyes not unlike her brother’s. “I’d imagine so. It’s a lot of pressure. On you, too.” She cocked her head, as if looking for a reaction.
“It was a surprise when he proposed. I admit that he had to talk me into it.” Boy, was that ever true.
One of Beatriz eyebrows lifted. “You weren’t sure if you wanted to marry him?”
Emma inhaled, gathering her thoughts. This was dangerous territory. “It’s a lot of responsibility, to be the wife of a king. I’m just an elementary school teacher. I’m from a very ordinary background. It’s all rather intimidating to me.”
Beatriz nodded, obviously taking this in. “I understand. There’s a lot to learn—palace etiquette, how to interact with the public. This life allows some luxuries, but it’s a full-time job representing the royal family. I suppose you were right to be wary.” Her mouth tilted into a small smile. “I’ll help you in any way I can. Feel free to ask me questions about things that confuse you.”
Did she really now have an ally, rather than a suspicious antagonist? It seemed too much to hope for.
“Darias has had a lot of women pursue him over the years. In general they’re far more interested in the prospect of a luxurious lifestyle and access to the Altaleone jewels than in my brother’s heart and soul. As his sister, it’s made me wary.”
“I can imagine. I’m sure you deal with the same kind of thing yourself.”
Beatriz frowned, looking almost confused. “Hardly. I’m never going to be queen.”
Emma found it hard to believe she didn’t still have suitors anxious to enjoy a well-feathered royal life. Maybe men were intimidated by Beatriz and the prospect of life among royals.
She wanted to assure Beatriz that she wasn’t marrying Darias for his money or connections, but that would have been an outright lie. Better to keep quiet. “I want to do my best to help Darias fulfill his duties to his family and the country.” Now, that was true. No need for Beatriz to know she was being paid for it.
To her surprise Beatriz clasped her hands. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” Beatriz hands were cold. Cold hands, warm heart? She couldn’t tell. “The most important thing right now is to help Mama through this nightmare.” Her big brown eyes moistened. “It’s really too much for her to bear. It’s not fair that she had to find them as well as deal with being left alone after a thirty-year marriage. I’m doing everything I can think of to keep things calm and smooth for her. Honestly, Darias turning up with you is the only thing that’s made her smile since she found the bodies. It seems like a year ago but it was barely ten days.”
Emma shivered. “Her grief is so raw. I lost my mom last year, and some mornings I still wake up and can’t believe it.”
Beatriz squeezed her hands. “I’m so sorry.” Her sympathy seemed totally genuine and Emma felt a flood of emotion and guilt at continuing to deceive her. “My father and I didn’t always see eye to eye, and I wish I could go back in time and change some of the things I said.” Her face was pale. “I can’t tell Mama that, of course.”
Emma nodded, feeling compassion. She realized that Darias’s sister was desperate to talk to someone about her pain. Even someone she barely knew and didn’t entirely trust.
If she only knew.
“Well, as I said, the most important thing is to keep things ticking along smoothly.” She leaned in, suddenly very close. “Mama had a nervous breakdown many years ago. She lost a baby late in the pregnancy and took it very hard. I was only a child, but I remember being very scared. There have been moments lately when I wonder if it’s about to happen again.” She gripped Emma’s hand. “Don’t tell anyone I told you that.”
“Of course not,” said Emma quickly. “And I’ll do everything I can to keep her calm and steady.”
Beatriz stood up suddenly. “You’d better get ready for the fitting. Pin your hair up. It’ll be easier to see the necklines.”
Emma felt her long hair sprawling over her shoulders. “Good idea.”
Beatriz shot her one more long, hard look, studying her, as if trying to decide whether she was someone she could trust, or not. “And don’t tell Darias I spoke to you.”
When Emma came downstairs, feeling self-conscious with her hair pinned in a wedding-y style, Darias was talking to his mom and Beatriz.
“Good morning, my love.” His deep voice—and those words—awoke something inside her.
“Morning.” Her voice cracked. She froze as Darias walked toward her. Relax. Act natural. He’s supposed to be your longtime boyfriend.
He slid his arms around her waist and lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was quick, nothing more than a soft peck, really, but it left her gasping for breath, with heat rising up her neck to her cheeks.
“I’m going to meet with a long line of lawyers and accountants in Casteleone. Hopefully, they can fill me in on all the details my father and grandmother never had a chance to tell me.”
She managed a shaky smile as they stepped apart. “Is there any kind of dress you like best?”
“Any dress with you in it.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think that playful smile easing across his bold mouth was utterly genuine.
She did know better, though. “I think that between the three of us we’ll find something you’ll like.”
“But he must absolutely not see it until your wedding day,” called his mom, scolding and excited at the same time.
“Of course not, Mama. I intend to uphold every outdated and silly tradition in Altaleone, whether I believe in it or not.”
She looked warmly at her son and smiled. “I know you’re just teasing me.”
“You may think I’m joking, Mama, but I truly do intend to do my best to uphold all my responsibilities as king and as the head of the family.”
Emma snuck a look at Beatriz, who should have every right to the same responsibilities as Darias. Beatriz raised a brow. “And I will do my best to make sure your bride is radiant and relaxed on her wedding day.”
The dresses were breathtaking. She tried on a range of styles, from simple fitted satin gowns to frothy concoctions with crystal beaded bodices. Darias’s mom cried at least four times. “I just love weddings,” she exclaimed. “Since none of my daughters have married yet, this is my first time to fuss over one.”
Emma preferred the simple dresses without much ornamentation, but they agreed that something with a bit more oomph would look better in video footage and photos of the wedding. They settled on a full-skirted gown with a fitted bodice piped with tiny seed pearls, and a long veil hemmed with matching tiny pearls.
The next few days where a whirlwind of consultations with party planners, hair dressers, personal shoppers, photographers and assorted other people, most of whom spoke very good English. Darias was gone nearly all day every day, presumably getting up to speed on the financial and political responsibilities of the monarchy.
In some ways it was a relief not to be around him, given the unsettling effect he’d started to have on her, but she hated the responsibility of answering so many questions without him there. Luckily, people weren’t bold enough to ask very personal questions like how they’d met. When they asked other tricky questions, like what was Darias’s favorite gemstone or which pattern of plate would he prefer, she could honestly answer that she really wasn’t sure.
Most nights she was so exhausted that she slept like the dead and didn’t even worry about palace ghosts or midnight visitors. She could sleep easy knowing that—so far—she’d done her part to uphold her bargain with Darias, and a call to New York had confirmed that her brother was still safely ensconced at The Fountains.
As the wedding day approached, Darias’s younger siblings started to arrive from near and far, all of them seemingly pleased to meet her. They all seemed warm and charming, despite the slightly awkward moment.
“You don’t speak Italian or German?” Darias’s younger sister Callista had long, chestnut curls and hypnotic jade-green eyes. They were sitting next to each other at dinner the night before the wedding, and everyone had nearly finished a very rich chocolate cake for dessert. “French?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Callista blinked in amazement. “Where did you go to school?”
“Just the local schools. In New Jersey.”
“The public schools? The free ones?” She looked shocked. “Were your parents socialists or something?”
“Something like that.” Emma wanted to laugh. These people lived in such an alternate universe. “I still managed to graduate from college.”
“Princeton? I went for a tour of it with my father after I got in.” Her big eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Damn it. I keep forgetting.”
“I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“I just can’t believe he’s gone. He planned to visit me in Paris next month.” Callista let out a deep sigh, then lifted her chin. “Princeton’s a wonderful school, though. I might have gone there if I didn’t get into MIT.”
“I didn’t go to Princeton.” No need to make this charade any more elaborate than it already was. “I went to Rutgers.”
“Oh.”
“You’re not hassling my fiancée are you, Calli?” Darias leaned over.
“Just wondering why she doesn’t speak any languages at all.” She winked at Emma. “Except presumably the language of love.”
“Watch yourself, sis. You’re not too old for me to strap you to a chair with zip ties again.”
“Can you believe that?” Callista raised a brow at Emma. “You want to watch this one. He’s too creative for his own good sometimes.”
Darias’s mother stood up. “Darlings, you know it warms my heart to have you all here, but I think we should get some sleep. We all have a long day tomorrow and need to look presentable for the cameras.”
Emma swallowed. She’d forgotten about all the reporters that would be here. Tomorrow her picture would be splashed all over the press and the Internet and she’d go from total obscurity to a familiar face, at least in Europe.
Luckily in America no one cared much about European monarchs—especially from obscure microstates—so she wasn’t likely to become notorious there. Unless something went horribly wrong.
Which it wouldn’t.
Not if she could help it.
Emma was already awake the next morning when Beatriz knocked on her door. Darias’s twin sister had clearly assigned herself the task of making sure all aspects of the wedding went smoothly. It was a little oppressive to have someone breathing down her neck under the circumstances, but helpful to have someone assist her through the arduous process of turning into a royal bride.
Her hair was straightened, then curled again into long, loose waves, then pinned into an elegant updo. She probably hadn’t spent that much time on her hair in the last year. A makeup artist spent forty-five minutes making her look like an airbrushed version of herself, and the dressmaker fussed over the gown, putting stitches into strange places to ensure an absolutely perfect fit.
“You do look the part.” Beatriz’s cool comment, said with a totally straight face, almost made Emma wonder if she knew more than she let on. Or maybe all the Leones just spoke this way. Keeping up appearances was probably an important part of royal life. “No one would suspect that you don’t have a drop of royal blood.”
Now Emma blinked. “Am I supposed to?”
“It is traditional for royals to marry someone who is at least a member of the aristocracy somewhere. I suppose it’s a shame you aren’t a Kennedy.”
“They’re all cursed. I’d rather just be me.”
Beatriz smiled. “Very sensible.” To Emma’s surprise she leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks. “At three o’clock today you will officially be royal, anyway.”
The ceremony would take place at Casteleone Cathedral, in the center of town, and Emma traveled there—alone—in a gilded coach pulled by four gleaming white horses with blue feathers on their heads. There was an alarming moment when one of the horses spooked at a camera flash, but the coachman soon got things under control and they continued a slow parade through the crowd.
Beatriz and her mom had shown her how to wave, and she waved and smiled at the crowd, wondering what on earth the people thought of this strange foreign girl swooping in to marry their gorgeous and eligible young monarch.
When the carriage pulled up in front of the grand Gothic cathedral, she was helped from it by two footmen in gold brocade. Little girls in striped dresses strewed rose petals on the ground in front of her as she walked toward the main door, with two older girls carrying the long train of her veil.
This was crazy.
She couldn’t say she’d spent years dreaming of her wedding day and planning every detail, but she certainly never thought it would be like this. Not so much the pomp and ceremony, but the grim reality that she was marrying a virtual stranger as part of a neat business arrangement.
She could never have done this if her parents were alive. Her mom would have kept her honest.
An older male family member had been drummed up to give her away, and he arrived gleaming with medals in a ceremonial uniform. He didn’t speak but took her hand and guided her up the steps to the cathedral doors.
Emotion suddenly clogged the back of her throat. If her dad were alive would he even have given her away? Or would he have still been too busy touring with his band or losing himself in drugs? They reached the door of the church, and a thousand faces turned to stare from the pews.
She managed to keep a shaky smile on her face. Not too beaming, though. She didn’t want to look fake. Even though she was.
Organ music boomed over them and she scanned the altar end of the cathedral for Darias, who was waiting in the wings somewhere, along with his brother Rigo, the best man.
Just keep it together.
Her stand-in father walked her down the aisle so slowly she began to wonder if they’d ever get there. One of the little flower girls started sneezing, and Emma welcomed the opportunity to fuss over her and ease the crushing sense of formality.
Her dread grew as they reached the altar. This is it. You’re going to stand up before all these people, and God, and lie to them. Until death us do part.
Or not.
Where was Darias? She tried to scan the space as surreptitiously as possible. Maybe he decided to back out. She’d be left alone in front of all these people, to suffer under their pitying stares.
The she saw him. Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. He looked so tall and dashing in the ceremonial uniform, black with a red collar and cuffs, gold brocade slashing across his chest. He looked every bit the handsome prince from a fairy tale.
Except this was no fairy tale. The organ music swelled to a close, and the murmur of conversation hushed to a grim silence. Darias walked toward her, expression serious, eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line.
As he drew close their eyes met and a jolt of energy flashed between them. What was he thinking right now? Did he wish this was a true marriage with the promise of a lifetime of love?
Her chest tightened. How different things would be if it was.
Her elderly companion slid his arm from hers, and Darias took her hand. She tried not to notice how her skin responded to the heat of his fingers. It took all her concentration to keep her expression neutral and pleasant as they walked the last few steps toward the altar, where the officiant waited.
She could feel her heart beating a hundred miles an hour inside the tight bodice of her dress, as the officiant uttered the words she’d rehearsed with Beatriz. They were in the local language but similar to the weddings she’d attended back home, so she tried her best to follow their meaning until they reached the part where she’d have to respond.
At last it came. She tried to clear her throat silently, hoping she wouldn’t croak or squawk like a chicken as she said “I do” in the unfamiliar tongue.
Darias slid the ring on her finger. The size of the diamond, ringed with yet more diamonds, made it look fake. Unlike everything else happening here, she knew it was real.
The officiant murmured more words, looking at Darias, and he said “I do,” as well, before they were officially pronounced man and wife. Just like in the U.S., it was now time for the new husband to kiss his bride.
She held her breath as his sensual mouth moved toward hers. Pictures of this moment would probably ricochet around the world so she needed it to look warm and genuine.
Pretend it’s real. Pretend you know him and love him.
Her lips met his and warmth exploded in her chest as they kissed.
If only it were real.
The scent of him tormented her and for a second she felt a tantalizing hint of tongue, but then he pulled back, eyes dark.
She shivered slightly, trying to get herself under control. The officiant continued talking, then the organ music started up again, and Darias slid his arm through hers and led her back toward the doors. Soon they were outside, blinking in the bright sun, as cameras flashed and the waiting crowd cheered.
Darias leaned in. “Thank you.”
His whisper heated her ear. She couldn’t think of an appropriate response so she kept her smile in place and waved as she’d been taught. After an eternity of photo ops, they climbed into a different carriage—the horses had red plumes—that took them back to the palace, where a celebration feast was arranged.
“Are all the people from the town going to come to the palace?”
“Oh, no. There’s a feast laid on for them in the town square. This is for friends, family, international dignitaries.”
“Will I have to mingle?”
“I’m afraid so, but I’ll be right with you. Just nod and smile. You’re doing an amazing job. My mom has been glowing all morning. After recent events that’s a huge blessing.” He squeezed her hand, blissfully unaware of the alarming effect he had on her. “Just a few more hours and we can relax in private.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.