Three Months Later

I stand three steps down from my sister in the packed yet orderly Grand Chapel of Gideanor. Only royal milestone events are held here. Weddings, funerals, and baptisms. Today, we’re at the joining of my sister, the Crown Princess and her impending husband Daniel Windham, soon to be Duke of the region of Parogon.

She picked out the most stunning wedding gown. It’s a soft white, floor-length, trumpet styled mermaid dress with lace and beading, and a V-neck back. He hair is combed up into a bun high on her head, tucked into her gleaming tiara and covered by the sweeping lace train that falls down her back and out along the floor about twenty feet behind her. It’s the perfect mix of old world charm and modern lines, and even does an excellent job of masking the tiny life now growing in her belly. Yes, she’s with child, the next heir that will likely ascend to the throne after my sister. One thing is for sure. As it should be for all brides, Helena is the most beautiful girl in the chapel.

Looking out at the crowd, I catch a glimpse of Mother and Father. They look so proud. It took what felt like hundreds of hours with our crown advisors, a host of legal and public affairs staff and other counselors to make this day happen, not just the usual army of event coordinators.

There was also the overwhelming task of rounding up all members of a small faction called the Hand of the Four. The entity was unknown to most, but our crown security had been investigating them for years, according to Father. Wes’s tip went a long way in revealing that some of the kingdom’s seemingly loyal supporters were in fact, Hand of the Four members, plotting and scheming in the hopes of eventually overthrowing our rule. But that threat is mostly neutralized.

As the priest begins the ceremony, I glance back at a pew about six rows behind my parents.

Wes sits there.

I catch a glimpse of him and find that his eyes are on me. Giving him a subtle nod, I smile. At this point in our lives, no one in the public realm needs to know about us. They surely don’t need to know that Wes pinned me hard against a wall and took what was his just before the guests began to show up. They don’t need to know what other naughty, sinful things he made me do to him when he locked the rectory door while I was getting into my maid of honor gown. I love that we will always share our dark passions in secret. Looking at him now, I let the flood of love I feel for him wash over me. Discovering who he is has been a real joy.

He’s demanding yet so giving.

Strong yet tender.

Dominant yet never boastful.

Everything I can ever want or need.

Today, he’s dressed in our royal colors, an honor that is only given to commoners on rare occasions. In his case, he wears it because in four short months, after the fanfare of my sister’s wedding has died down, Wes and I will be husband and wife. He proposed with a dazzling little engagement ring that meant the world to him. The ring that his mentor, Saul proposed to his wife with, the ring she wore for their entire forty-odd years of marriage. And I adore it.

Convincing my parents was not as arduous a task as I had feared. Helena had already cleared a path that we could step into with much more ease.

And the craziest coincidence of all took us by surprise. When we announced to my parents that we wanted to marry, crown security was instructed to commence their rigorous background checks process to vet him before an official public announcement is made. Imagine everyone’s shock when his birth records were unsealed, revealing that Wes Francis is actually the son of nobility. His mother had died in Gideanor during childbirth, but Wes’s father was an earl of one of the neighboring kingdoms, unaware of his son’s existence. Sadly, his father passed years ago. However genetic testing has confirmed Wes’s royal bloodline.

Not that it matters at all to me. I’d marry him regardless of his station. Wes is still coming to terms with the news, and has been giddy with excitement that he has an extended family in a neighboring kingdom, a family that is also thrilled to eventually welcome him into the fold.

I met Wes Francis purely by accident, but falling for him was no fluke. And when we marry, he'll be a royal twice over.

My accidental royal.

As the priest instructs my sister and the love of her life to join hands and make their vows, my eyes well up with happy tears. I can’t wait to witness the journey they’ll start together.

Or the one I’ll soon embark on with Wes, the man who brought me my happily ever after.