Cathedral City
Cathedral of David
October 19
Under a crisp blue Brighton Kingdom sky, Corina held fast to her father’s hand as they rode in an open-air, gilded black-and-red carriage, drawn by four gleaming chestnut-colored horses and accompanied by ten footmen, through the city streets swarming with well-wishers.
“The roar is so loud I can’t hear myself think,” Daddy said, laughing, his heart beating in his eyes.
Corina drew on his strength and waved at the crowd, a nervous laugh in her chest. “Their rugby prince is getting married. And it’s a national holiday.”
“Nervous?” Daddy squeezed her hand.
“Worse than the Miss Georgia pageant when my shoe broke.” Corina leaned against him. “But I’m so excited.”
“I’m proud of you, Kit.” He cleared the emotion from his voice. “Carlos would be proud but reminding Stephen he’s getting the greatest girl in the world and to treat her as such.”
She exhaled. “I feel blessed to have him, Daddy. I never stopped loving him. Even in the dark days when I thought our marriage was annulled.”
The carriage turned down the wide Rue du Roi, passing under the two-hundred-year-old royal oaks, ablaze with fall’s reddish orange.
The Cathedral of David, where Stephen was coronated officially as Prince of Brighton a month ago, awaited them, watching the avenue with its spiral peaks.
“Thank you for loving and accepting him, Daddy.” Stephen had properly asked Donald Del Rey to marry his daughter. And he’d asked forgiveness for his role in the death of their son.
A deep healing began that day in the Del Reys. They weren’t the family they used to be, but they were on the journey to the family they would become.
“What choice did I have, Kit? You loved him and Carlos gave his life for him. Plus, he’s the Prince of Brighton.” Daddy winked. “Your mother had breakfast with the Queen Mum. And her daughter is going to be a princess.” Daddy laughed. “She was born for this world. It’s like the mother ship has called her home.”
“She and Queen Campbell have several friends in common.”
“She’s healing, Corina. I’m healing.” Daddy’s voice choked up and he tapped the end of her nose, an affection that started when she was a baby. “You’ve brought us all healing and love again.”
Love well.
The carriage pulled up to the cathedral, the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves fading to a stop. At the red carpet, two footmen opened the carriage door.
Corina descended the carriage steps, holding on to Daddy, pausing to wave at the crowd, taking the time to focus, see their faces. After all, they took time out of their busy lives to celebrate with her.
At the nave entrance, matron of honor Daisy and bridesmaid Melissa waited with the royal wedding director, Tama.
“Queen Campbell and Princess Susanna are seated, and your mother just went down the aisle.” Tama handed Corina her wedding bouquet with a small locket containing a picture of Carlos, laughing, resting among the lilies. “We’re ready for you in thirty seconds . . . as soon as the music changes.”
“You look so beautiful,” Daisy said with a light embrace, tears in her eyes. “And my dream came true. You are a princess.”
“You’re beaming,” Melissa said.
“It means everything to me that you’re both here.”
In that moment, the music changed and “The Bride’s Rhapsody” began, a piece composed especially for Corina and Stephen. The stringed melody rose into the high, arched nave ceiling with notes of joy and celebration.
If she had had any reservations, it was too late now.
“Remember,” Daddy said, offering his hand, “everyone here is for you.”
Corina placed her trembling hand on Daddy’s, her heart’s beat resounding through her.
But she’d had this date with destiny for a long time.
As she glided down the aisle with her hand cupped over Daddy’s, her gaze locked with Stephen’s. His smile trembled, and even from her distance, she saw the glisten of emotion in his eyes.
He was dashing and handsome in his dress blues, a bank of medals over his heart, and the gold royal braid around his shoulder.
Halfway down, among the oohs and ahhs, Corina slowed, pausing to notice Adelaide and Brill sitting on the aisle end of a long, polished pew.
Adelaide’s eyes overflowed and Brill puffed out his chest, smoothing his hand over the tuft of grey hair sprouting from the crown of his head. Then he extended his hand, producing a single rose.
Tears captured Corina’s eyes, and she broke rank to reach for the beautiful bloom. “You?”
Brill beamed, winking.
“Better keep moving, Kit,” Daddy whispered.
But Corina leaned to kiss the old man, if indeed he was a man, on the cheek. Then Adelaide. “Thank you for everything.”
“Our honor. Just remember, you’ve the tiara, never forget to drink from the cup.”
“I won’t, I won’t.”
“Kit, shug, we best keep going.”
“Those are my friends, Daddy. The ones I told you about.”
Daddy, such a southern gentleman, shook Brill’s then Adelaide’s hand as the music soared over and among them with the glide of violins and cellos.
As they started again down the aisle, Stephen stepped down from the altar, moving toward them.
In long, even strides, with no hint of a limp, he approached. Were it not for his smile, she might collapse to the floor. What was he doing?
“Mr. Del Rey, may I have the honor of walking my bride the rest of the way to the altar?”
Daddy checked with Corina. She nodded, melting with tears, and whispered to Stephen. “You’re going to mess up my makeup.”
“Sorry, love, I just want to do the honor of presenting you to the Lord myself.”
Daddy kissed Corina’s hand and backed away. “I love you, Kit.” He shook Stephen’s hand. “You take care of my girl. I trust you with her life.”
Corina breathed in, her emotion swelling. Stephen, right there in the middle of the aisle, with millions watching, broke into tears, resting his forehead on Daddy’s shoulder.
“It’s all right, son, it’s all right.” For a long moment, Daddy held his son-in-law in love and comfort.
“Psst, shall we get going?” Tama, flushed and wide-eyed.
Stephen raised his head with a laugh. “I suppose we’d best get on with this wedding.” He brushed his cheeks with his fingers and moved in beside Corina, replacing Daddy.
“You do know I’m crazy about you, don’t you?” She couldn’t take her eyes from him. He was so brilliant and bright with the light of love.
“Not half as crazy as I am about you.”
Corina prepared to walk forward with him, but Stephen looked around the grand nave. “Esteemed guests,” he said, the orchestra bringing down the volume of the rhapsody yet keeping the joy and celebration in each movement. “Thank you for being here. I married this woman in secret before I deployed to Afghanistan. Then when I came home, broken from an intense battle, I felt I wasn’t worthy of her. So I sent her away.”
Corina caught the silky trickle of tears at the edge of her chin.
“For over five years, she dealt with her pain alone, but through a series of rather divine events, we came together again.” Stephen clapped his hand over his heart, his gaze now on her, full of blue persuasion. “She loved me when I showed her no regard. When I rebuffed and rejected her. She loved me well. She loved me to Jesus, where I finally discovered what it meant to be a man of worth. So I want the whole world to know I love this woman!” His shout rose to the rafters and rained over them.
The guests cast off decorum and cheered.
Stephen walked her the rest of the way down the aisle to the altar, past their smiling and glassy-eyed friends and family, where the Archbishop of Brighton began the traditional ceremony.
And then the world knew her secret. Corina Del Rey loved the Prince of Brighton.