At precisely eight o’clock, Wesley stood at the bottom of the grand staircase and watched his lovely bride-to-be descend as gracefully as a swan swims. She wore a rich green, floor-length dress that looked to be made of chiffon as it lifted and danced around her ankles.

The neckline sat just slightly off her shoulders and Wesley couldn’t stop the saliva from drying up in his mouth. Her hair was pulled into a low side-ponytail, the ends curling around her neck. The contrast of her fiery hair against the green fabric was simply breathtaking.

“I hope I’m not overdressed,” she observed.

Wesley glanced down at the same slacks and shirt he’d worn earlier and wished he’d dressed up a bit more, or at least changed clothes. But no matter how well he dressed, she would always outshine him, that’s just how beautiful she was.

“Not at all,” he hastened to answer her as she approached the bottom step. He offered her his arm and felt mildly satisfied when she slipped her delicate hand into the crook of his arm. “I’ve been busy with kingdom issues since I arrived. I don’t think I’ve even stopped long enough to sit down for a single meal that wasn’t microwaved,” he mused and smiled when she laughed.

“I can’t imagine the time and effort it takes to run a complete Faction,” she observed and tucked her chin shyly. “I know your brother has acted as your proxy since you enlisted in the military, are you up to speed or is it not my place to ask?”

“You can ask whatever you like,” Wesley informed her pragmatically. “This is your Faction too after all and should everything proceed as I hope, you will reign at my side as my Princess.”

Beth’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” she confessed.

“It means that everything that is mine will become yours,” he informed her with a sly smile. “And that includes all royal business.”

* * *

Two weeks later…

Beth waited anxiously just inside the front door of the formal estate. Wesley stood on her right side, holding her hand firmly in his and Lance stood on her left. The trio managed to inhabit half the interior of the spacious entryway.

After everything she’d read, everything she’d seen and the things Henry had explained to her, Beth had no choice but to seriously consider converting. She couldn’t argue that the true Ancient Ways were barbaric. The version her parents raised her on was a very diluted depiction. But even that didn’t matter; she couldn’t see herself continuing to follow that path.

This consideration wasn’t simply because she’d fallen in love with Wesley; deep down she knew that he’d marry her regardless. He respected her enough to allow her freedom to pursue her own interests, dreams and even her own religious beliefs. Sure, could she remain a follower of the Ancient Ways, it would prove difficult for them, but she knew that together, they would make it work.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, Wesley tightened his hold on their clasped hands and she accepted the small, almost invisible action as an enormous sign of faith. They hadn’t told her parents of the conflict of interests and even though it was technically a matter for the Prince to handle, Wesley had agreed to allow Beth a chance to speak with her parents about their failure to convert when the decree was instituted many centuries ago.

She wanted the truth as to why they’d virtually betrayed their leader for a way of life that seemed almost savage compared to the newer Modernism.

“What shall I tell them about the ceremony?” Beth whispered. She’d realized they hadn’t told her mother and father anything other than a few extra weeks were needed for preparations. It had been the only way to delay their trip to witness.

“Stick with our original story,” he responded. “Elder Seraphina has volunteered to act as an obstacle. Since ritual rites dictate that at least six Elders be in attendance, she’ll delay her arrival in order to give us an excuse.”

Beth nodded and inhaled deeply, steeling herself for the conversation to come.

Tires crunched across the pea-gravel drive as the car eased to a stop directly out front. She heard her mother’s low murmurs and her father admonishing her. Even though she’d lived in such conditions all her life, a fire sprang to life inside her at the mere thought of the things her mother had suffered through.

Lance stepped forward and pulled the door open before they reached it. Both parents looked up in alarm and Beth sought her mother’s eyes. Sadness filled her when she saw that she kept them firmly downcast.

Introductions were made and Beth stepped forward to embrace each of her parents but she felt no emotion in the gestures. It was as if her mother moved on auto-pilot.

“It is an honor to see you again You Highness,” her father bowed his six-feet-four-inch frame before Wesley, his large arms held firmly at his side. His pitch black hair was slicked back with enough hair pomade to cover the Atlantic. Both parents were dressed in casual attire, her mother wearing a rather modest sapphire blue pant suit and her father his normal black suit, white shirt and a matching black tie. Her mother’s dark auburn hair was pulled back in a perfect chignon, with not a hair out of place.

Wesley motioned for Jeremy to rise and extended his hand toward him. The big, boisterous Texan reciprocated with a frown of disapproval. Beth could only imagine the thoughts running through her father’s head.

Turning from the men, Beth took her mother’s hands in hers and offered a warm smile.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmured to the older woman. Instead of responding in kind, Emily merely smiled and gave a curt nod of her regal head.

At a loss on how to proceed, Beth sought out Wesley and tried her best to convey the slip of panic coursing through her.

Snapping to attention, Wesley opened his arms.

“Beth, why don’t you take your parents up to the Library and catch up?” he suggested with a slight nod. Seizing the opportunity, Lance stepped forward and offered Emily his arm.

“I’ll take them up,” Lance offered. “Beth, perhaps you’d like to ask Ginny for some refreshments? I’ll keep Mr. and Mrs. Henderson company while you do.” Without waiting for her response, Lance led her mother through the foyer and up the grand staircase, her father angrily on his heels.

“Take a deep breath,” Wesley whispered into her ear and her nerves calmed in response. They weren’t even properly mated yet and his impact on her left her breathless.

“Lance and I will wait in the Music Room across the hall. If you need me, all you have to do is call out, I’ll be there,” he reassured her and bent to press a light kiss across her forehead. “No matter what, I’ll be there.”