Page 49 of Pregnant In The King's Palace

The fact that the wedding feast table had been dressed with a king’s ransom in bejewelled and golden tableware only added to the feeling that this blending of cultures and ancestry and families was something truly special.

He’d been pacing the halls all day, waiting for the morning, and then lunch, and then the afternoon to pass so he could get to the getting married part of the day and beyond.

Whoever had decided a sunset marriage would be just the thing for him to bear clearly had a master’s degree in psychological warfare.

Vala and Moriana had suggested the time, if memory served correct.

Figured.

But that time was upon them now, and, at the faintest of knocks, Cas and Augustus reached for the chapel doors and pulled them open, and there stood Angelique, bathed by the light of the setting sun filtered through precious stained glass.

He wasn’t the only one to gasp and hold his breath.

He might have been the only one to hold his breath until Angelique took her first step forward.

And then more steps, until her father handed her over and stepped back, and then it was only the two of them and the archbishop and repeating words and vows that described all the love he had to give. To have, to hold, to honour, serve and protect. To love, deeply and wisely, and he knew, when he finally raised the veil to reveal his wife, and the sun shone down on them and bathed them in a golden glow, that his choice had been the right one and that he had permission from above to love as he would.

The kiss, when it came, was as reverent as he could make it, what with the aching need to sweep Angelique into his arms and carry her off, into that sunset, on a pair of horses bound for the hunting lodge, but he resisted.

That was for later. Her horse had been decked out with a flower harness. His stallion was the fastest one in his stables, Alessandro had assured him.

Guess they’d find out later if that was true or not.

He resisted the urge to sweep her away as they ventured hand in hand down the aisle and braved a rainfall of rose petals flung at them by kings who did silly, spontaneous things in private that they’d never do in public.

Resisted through the first dance in a near empty ballroom before someone bribed the string group to play heavy metal.

Resisted through the lone photographer’s plea for fifteen minutes of their time, and the resulting selection of half a dozen photographs to release to the press that evening.

Relaxed through the dinner, and, by the time the speeches came, he tossed the one he’d laboured over and simply spoke from the heart.

‘To my family and friends who have stuck by me all these years and lent their support to my choices...

‘To my wife’s family, my thanks for gracing me with one of their own...

‘To the people outside these walls who are counting on me to rule wisely, with compassion and love, and in the name of duty to the crown... I will not let them down.

‘And to my wife, whose love, and grace, and tolerance make me a better man. Angelique, there are some new horses in the stables. Enrique helped me choose them and so did your father and Alessandro. They tell me they show promise. Their bloodlines are magnificent. They will delight and challenge you, so I’m told. Never feel guilty about spending time with them. Nurture them, take joy in them, because I want you to have passions that will sustain you. Besides me.’ Ad libbing had its flaws, the sniggers that followed reminded him so. The arrogance of kings, tamed, and bent towards love. ‘They are my gift to you because, although together we will endure, I will not allow the weight of the crown to swallow who you are. A toast.’ He raised his glass. ‘To my wife. Horsemaster Cordova.’

Not a traditional toast by any stretch, but necessary, here and now amongst this lot, so many of them who knew what it was like to lose track of themselves in service to crown and country.

There were more toasts.

And dancing. Dear heaven, the ridiculous dancing. Who needed a million-dollar DJ and a warehouse full of smoke machines and chemical stimulation when you had this lot?

Benedict had ordered a disco ball and it turned out they had one. They put Pulp Fiction to shame, and no one died but bribery material was collected for the ages.

The photographer had been banished hours earlier and the children had all been tucked up in bed. Which begged the thought, ‘Are you by any chance ready for bed?’

His glowing bride bestowed on him a wicked smile that promised heaven, and said, ‘I’ve practised wedding goodbyes for three days solid. I’ve memorised titles, compliments, invitations for people to join us that I know won’t clash with their calendars. Moriana helped.’

‘Of course, she did.’ That woman was a menace to royalty everywhere.

‘I reckon I’ve got it down to three minutes solid if no one interrupts.’

‘Hey, everyone!’ He held his hand high. ‘Thank you for coming. We need three minutes of your time and then we’re gone.’

Angelique had never spoken so fast. She’d forgotten about all the hugs people insisted on giving her, but they were out of the room in five minutes.

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