I stand at the front of the church, with Chaz, Kyle, and Timothy at my side. I honestly have no idea why men pretend they don’t love weddings. I’m exhilarated, terrified, and madly, wildly in love at the same time as I wait for the heavy wooden doors to open and pour late-day sunlight into the ancient stone building. I also have no idea why anyone bothers with wedding planners. It took Tessa and me all of one evening to plan out the perfect wedding—in the village church, with our close friends and relatives.

Grandmum saved our foolish arses by putting out an official statement that, while we are very much in love, we decided to postpone the wedding until she was well. I smile over at her where she sits in the front pew and gratitude sweeps through me that she can be here for this moment in my life. I say a silent prayer that she’ll be here to welcome our children to the world and to love them up when they’re getting in trouble from their parents, like she did for Arabella and me. I don’t know who I would be if she hadn’t been here, but I don’t think I’d be half the man who awaits his bride.

Oh, you’re probably wondering how I’ve become so sentimental. ‘Arthur, this doesn’t sound like you. You’re sarcastic and witty and debonair.’ Relax, I’ll get straight back to that as soon as the ceremony is over.

I glance to my right, where my father is waiting to bestow the title of Duchess of Wellingborne, Princess of Avonia on Tessa. Oddly enough, things have gotten much better between us since I socked him in the jaw. Turns out he was waiting for me to finally stand up to him so he’d know I can handle being king someday. He’s still not what you’d call a cuddly or involved dad, but he’s been trying. He smiles at me and nods. I do the same.

Suddenly, the doors swing open and I see Tessa’s nieces and nephews, who are serving as our flower girls and ring bearers, all but little Eugenia who is sleeping soundly on her dad’s shoulder. Poppy is first, sprinkling flowers on the aisle. Well, really, she’s sort of chucking fistfuls of them on the carpet. Her brother, Knox, who has a slightly quicker pace, bumps into her back and she turns around and smacks him on the arm. “Stop it!”

“Hurry up!” he hisses.

The church roars with laughter, reminding them that they are, indeed, being watched.

The children make their way up the rest of the aisle without incident and I give them each a wink and a fist bump as they turn to their pew.

Then I look up and see Arabella coming down the aisle, carrying a simple bouquet of wild flowers. She’s already crying, poor thing, but she’s smiling, too. Then Nikki is next, and I do a double-take. Her hair is light brown today. She looks…normal. Very presentable.

They make their way down the aisle, Arabella stopping to hug me. “I’m so happy!”

I hug her back. “Me, too.”

She pulls back and narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t fuck this up, Arthur. I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

“You and Gran both.”

Nikki comes up behind her and does a little curtsy in front of my father and me. I lean toward her and point to her hair. “Natural colour?”

She nods and shrugs.

“You look rather fetching.”

Her cheeks turn pink. “Charmer.”

The trumpets sound the first notes of Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” and I snap to attention. There she is, flanked on either side by her parents. At first, she’s only a silhouette against the pink and orange sky, but then she takes a few steps forward and I see her for the first time. My princess.

Her dress belonged to her grandmother. It’s a simple long-sleeved lace gown that trails behind her, causing her to look like she’s walking on air. Behind the veil she smiles, her eyes set only on me as she makes her way down the aisle, arms hooked through those of her parents. Her eyes glisten with emotion and mine do the same. Each step she takes brings me more to life, makes me that much fuller. A lump forms in my throat and I’m not sure I’ll be able to speak at all when it’s time.

When they reach us, I vibrate with the purest joy. She turns to her mother, who lifts her veil and sobs loudly, then kisses her on the cheek. “Imagine my little girl becoming a princess.”

Evi turns to me and says, “Be good to each other. None of the rest matters.”

I nod and we kiss each other on both cheeks. “Thanks, Mum.”

As soon as I say it, I know it was a mistake because she bursts into tears, patting my cheek in a most undignified way. Oh, well, sod it all. We’re family now. A little show of emotion never hurt anyone, I suppose.

Rueben shakes my hand, gripping my elbow firmly with his other hand. His eyes say what he’s too polite to—and it’s pretty much the same message as Arabella’s.

Why is it that everyone assumes I’ll fuck this up? It could just as easily be Tessa. I nod and murmur to him, “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll take good care of her.”

Reuben’s eyes well up a bit and he sniffles, then takes his wife’s arm and leads her to the spots waiting for them in the front pew.

And now it’s just the two of us grinning at each other like fools. “You’re so beautiful, I can hardly breathe.”

Tessa tears up, then says, “You wore your naval uniform. Good choice.”

“I knew it would get you going,” I whisper. “Should we do this?”

“Yes, let’s get it over with,” she says.

“No, I intend to savour every second of the best day of my life.”

We turn to the minister, who stands next to my father. And the next ten minutes are a blur because I can’t concentrate on anything other than how in love I am with the woman standing next to me.

She turns to me and I snap out of it, remembering it’s time for the vows. Little Knox, who has the real rings, stands between us, holding up the pillow and grinning smugly back at his brothers. Oh, they learn that early, don’t they?

I take Tessa’s ring off the pillow, then lift her left hand with mine. “I, Arthur Winston Phillip George Charles Edward, take thee, Tessa Bridget, to be my wife. I promise to love, comfort, support, and keep you, forsaking all others, for all the days of my life.”

I gently slide the ring onto her finger and then our eyes meet. “Your turn,” I whisper.

“I, Tessa Bridget, take thee, Arthur Winston Phillip George Charles Edward, to be my husband. I promise to love, comfort, support, and keep you, forsaking all others, for all the days of my life.”

I watch as she slides the most symbolic and meaningful piece of jewelry I’ll ever wear onto my finger.

Then we turn to the minister who says a whole bunch of things about love and marriage and commitment that I miss because I’m thinking about how damn relieved I am to have gotten this far.

My father steps down and stands in front of Tessa while Vincent hurries over to place a kneeling stool for her. She takes my hand and I help steady her while she kneels in front of my father. His smile is genuine as he unsheathes his sword (not that kind of sword—good God, you have sick mind). He taps her left shoulder with it and says, “I, Winston Phillip George Edwin Charles, rightful Monarch of the Kingdom of Avonia, Duke of Canterboroguh, Count of Middlesbury, by right of arms dub thee Princess Tessa, Duchess of Wellingborne.”

Lifting the sword over her head, he taps her right shoulder. “Rise up, madam, and join the ranks of your peers.”

Tessa stands and curtseys deeply to my father, looking very much like she was born into all this silliness. When she rises, my father takes her hand and smiles, then quietly says, “Well done, Tessa. I know we got off to a rocky start, but I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for my family and for my son. You’ve turned him into the man I should have, and you’re just the person to make sure he’ll be the leader this nation needs someday.”

Tessa tears up. “Hopefully that will be a very long time from now, Your Majesty.”

“Call me…” he gives her a thoughtful look, then says, “Winston.”

* * *

“This is Giles Bigley on location in Didsby, where the bells have just begun ringing indicating that Prince Arthur, rightful heir to the throne of Avonia, has indeed married Tessa Sharpe, who will henceforth be known as Princess Tessa, Duchess of Wellingborne.

“Any second now the doors will swing open, and the happy couple will emerge and get into the waiting carriage for a short tour around the village and off to Didsby Castle for an intimate reception. Even though they’ve broken nearly every royal protocol today, the excitement in this tiny village, and indeed around the kingdom, is unbelievable. I’ve never seen so many smiling faces in all my days as a reporter. People rushing around the cobblestone streets wishing each other well and laughing together, thrilled to be among the very few in attendance on this beautiful June afternoon.

“The couple will honeymoon here for two days, then head to Valcourt for the official wedding parade, followed by a luncheon with dignitaries and royals from around the globe. Once the celebrations are over, they will commence a one-month honeymoon trip including Maui, Mauritius, and the Maldives…”