Page 7 of Royal Rebel

The first stop we make is in the Royal Garden, dedicated by Tristan’s great-great-grandmother many years ago. Typically photo-calls are done inside, but one of the most famous pictures of Tristan is here with his mother. His only stipulation for the day, was to meet the press here.

The flashes are almost blinding, and I do the only thing I can; I reach down, gripping my other hand around Tristan’s as we make our way toward the crowd that’s gathered. There’s a decided chill to the air, but his fingers and palm are the warmest I’ve ever held.

“Thank you for coming,” he tells the crowd. “I know it’s a bit cold this morning, and you all probably would have liked to be inside.”

“Then you wouldn’t be able to turn away from us and take your leave,” one of the photographers teases as the rest of them laugh.

“You know I hadn’t thought about that, Richard.” Tristan gives him a smile. “But thank you for giving me a good idea for later.”

“Perhaps some coffee next time?” he continues.

“Would you also like me to provide cream and sugar? Maybe some flavored syrup?” Tristan plays along with him.

I’ve seen interviews of Tristan and he is so at ease with everyone. I want to be more like him, but at this moment, I’m frozen. Not sure how to act, and all I can do is keep my fingers wrapped up in his and a smile spread across my face.

“Flavored syrup would be divine.”

“I’ll make a list for next time, Richard. Promise.”

One of the other photographers cuts Richard off. “Tristan, is this your fiancée?”

“Yes.” He smiles over at me, and the look he gives me is one that’s so loving I have to remind myself that this right here? Isn’t real. Not yet. “This is my beautiful fiancée, Amelia.”

“Where did you all meet?” someone else asks.

“At a birthday party.” I give Tristan a little wink as we share an inside joke.

They eat it up, the flashes going insane as we stand there, staring at one another.

“Two things.” Another voice cuts into the crowd. “We want a kiss and the ring, Tris. Don’t hold back from us.”

“The ring.” He brings our entwined hands together,showing them the ruby. “Was my mother’s. I presented it to Amelia last night, and she said yes.”

“And the kiss?”

He turns to me, widens his stance slightly, cups my face with his hands, and leans forward, giving me the softest kiss I’ve ever had. It’s nothing like the rollercoaster ride into passion we had last night. This one is measured, soft, delicate, and everything a young girl dreams of when she imagines this moment. When he pulls back, our eyes meet, and I’m pretty sure everyone from here to the United States can feel the chemistry between us. He leans in for another, before I can stop him, tilting my head opposite of his. This one heats up more than it should, and it isn’t until we hear a few whistles from the crowd that he physically sets me away from him.

Tristan clears his throat, and I reach up, wiping the lipstick off his lips. He gives me a smile, as he turns those lips into my palm.

Little do we know at that moment, that picture will be the one that makes it all the way around the world.

CHAPTER 4

TRISTAN

“I think we did well.” Amelia still holds my hand as we make our way back into the palace, preparing to go up to the balcony so that we may greet the people.

“I think so too.” I lick my lips, helping her up the first set of stairs. At the landing, we’re by ourselves, and I push her into the shadows under the next set of stairs.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks when she realizes we’re relatively alone. It’s something that won’t happen much in this place. There’s always someone around. We need to take advantage while we can.

“No.” I can’t help but to reach up, brush a curl out of her face. “On the next landing, you’ll meet my father. More than likely, he’ll treat you kindly, but almost as if you’re not even there. Just warning you. It’s not you; he’s been like this since my mother passed. Don’t take it personally, he’ll grow to be fond of you in his own way.”

“Thank you for warning me.” Her dark eyes are wide,showing a bit of the fear I imagine is mirrored in mine. It’s not easy to become part of another family, especially one as dysfunctional as mine.

“Are you ready?”

She nods. “As long as you’re near, as long as you’re there to hold my hand and be my support, I’m ready to do anything.”

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