Page 62 of Royal Rebel

I’m aware I sound like I’m pouting, but I do want to see her. I have no doubt she’s a vision in whatever dress she’sdecided to wear. She’s beautiful no matter what, and I can’t wait to see her walk toward me.

“You don’t want to start your marriage off on the wrong foot, do you?”

I obviously don’t, but at the same time I want to know what she’s wearing. Not only that, but is she smiling? How is her hair? Is she as nervous as I am?

“You have a lot of questions.”

It’s then I realize I’ve asked them all aloud. “How much longer until she gets here?”

He glances at his watch. “Fifteen minutes. It’d be best if we made our way into the chapel.”

I shake hands as I walk down the aisle to the place where I’m supposed to stand and wait for my bride. I’ve watched others do this before, and I always wondered how it felt. What it was like to have everyone stare at you. Obviously I knew this would be where I end up, but I never thought there’d be this many people here today. There are dignitaries, movie stars, childhood friends, and music icons in the audience. Over five hundred people have filled this chapel to the rafters.

It’s scary for me to walk down to the front, I can only imagine what it’s going to be like for Amelia. At least I know most of these people. I’m not positive who all she knows besides my family and hers.

“Looking good, Tristan,” the head of our government holds out a hand for me to shake.

“Thank you, kind sir.” I tip my head to him. “Thank you for being here to celebrate this day with us.”

“Thank you for the invitation.”

Like he wasn’t going to get one. The last thing I want to do is play host on a day like this, but it is what it is, and I’m almost always on. I give him a smile, then head further down the aisle. I lose track of the amount of people I shake hands and greet. It isn’t until Parker comes to my side, ushering me down, that I realize how long I’ve been doing this for.

“Thanks for rescuing me.”

“If I hadn’t, Amelia would be making her way into the chapel with you not even wanting on her yet.”

The thought makes me chuckle, but I appreciate the fact he’s gotten me away from everyone who wanted to speak to me. My back is to the entrance.

“Good luck today, Tristan.” The officiant pats me on the shoulder.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate you being here and performing the service for us.”

This gesture I’m thankful for. He christened me, and the fact he’s here to marry me means a lot.

“She’s coming in,” he tells me.

And that’s when I hear the sharp intake of breath as everyone gets a look at her.

“How does she look?” I ask him, because I’m not supposed to turn around yet.

“Absolutely beautiful. Your bride is gorgeous.”

I ache to turn around, to get a look at her, but I know it’s against custom, and honestly, I don’t want to start this marriage off with breaking custom.

So I wait.

The long, agonizing minutes it seems to take her to come to where I am. Finally the officiant gives me the go-ahead, and I turn to face her.

I gasp.

She’s beautiful.

Lace cups the top part of her body, flushing down into satin. She looks like a doll I saw as a child, and I’m worried I may break her. She’s fragile like a flower, but strong as a tree against the wind. She’s not shrinking away from any of the pomp and circumstance happening today. If I had to walk down the aisle the way she did, I’m not even sure I could do it. She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.

She’s even more beautiful than I imagined she would be, imagined she ever could be. Her father gives me her hand to start the ceremony, and as I try to remember my part in this, I do my best not to get lost in her eyes.

“Do you, Tristan, take Amelia to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

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