Page 83 of Once Upon an Enchanted Kiss

“Can I help you?” she added, trying to sound official and not alert the guards.

Jeffrey brought his hand from behind his back. He held one single white rose. She gasped.

“For you, your highness, and a message,” he said. “A rose for a Rose. I was asked to make sure you received it.”

Her heart thundered as she took it, wondering where he had managed to find a single white rose. There were no rosebushes in the castle gardens nor anywhere near the castle. She made a note to ask him when they were alone.

“Do you know the significance of a white rose, your highness?” he asked. When she shook her head, he continued. “It means everlasting love and devotion.”

Hearing that made her knees go weak. She gripped the door jamb with her free hand as the blood whooshed out of her head. She glanced down at the single rose, the perfect petals, and her heart swelled.

“I will wear it tomorrow,” she said. She vowed to find a glass of water or something to put it in so it wouldn’t wilt before the morning.

“His highness the prince hoped you would.” He granted her a smile and a quick bow of his head. “Any return message for his highness?”

She thought about that for a moment until finally she nodded. “Yes. Tell him I look forward to our next adventure together.”

“As the lady commands.” He bowed once again and then hurried away.

Rosamund closed the door and leaned against it, smelling the sweet scent of the rose. As she held it, she noticed one thing in particular.

There were no thorns.

She laid awake for several hours until at some point, she drifted off into exhaustion. It seemed she had just closed her eyes when there was a commotion in her bedchamber and someone was shaking her awake.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the white rose in the glass of water by her bedside. She smiled as soon as she saw it.

One of the maids bustled in to rouse her and help her dress for the day. She made a note to come back and retrieve the rose before she left her bedchamber.

The gown was perfection. She stood before the long mirror and gaped, hardly recognizing herself. Her mother bustled in, her reflection behind Rosamund in the mirror. Her mother wore a gown in a deep blue with a full skirt and sleeves that came to a point on her hands. Her hair was pulled up in an elaborate style on her head with a small spray of flowers over one ear. Rosamund couldn’t help but think how radiant her mother looked.

The queen pressed her fingertips to her lips, a dreamy look of admiration on her face.

“I knew that color would be stunning on you,” she said.

“I don’t think stunning is the right word,” Queen Adele said, pausing behind her mother in a swish of skirts.

Queen Adele was dressed in a gown of violet. Like her mother, her hair was coiled around her head, curls piled high, and a sprig of flowers behind her ear. She gave her an appreciative smile as she looked at Rosamund.

“The gown is beautiful, Mother.” She turned to face her. “I love it.”

Queen Adele handed her the bouquet with a mixture of flowers. “We’re here to escort you to your father.”

Rosamund remembered the white flower beside her bed. “One moment, please.”

She hurried back into her chamber. Relief washed over her when she saw it still in the glass. She took it, placing it in the center of her bouquet to make sure Phillip would see it. Smiling, she returned to the waiting queens. Together, the three of them left behind her bedchamber and headed for the castle gardens.

Her father, as well as King Reginald, flanked the exit to the gardens. They were both dressed in their finest attire. Her father in indigo to match her mother. Reginald in violet to match his wife. A smile crossed her father’s face as she paused next to him.

“You look lovely,” he said.

Reginald said, “More than lovely. She’s a stunning beauty! My son is a lucky man.” He reached for her, kissed her on each cheek. His face was lit with delighted joy.

“Thank you,” Rosamund said.

Her father held his arm out to her. She wrapped her hand in the crook of his elbow trying to ignore the nerves erupting through her stomach. Queen Adele took her husband’s arm. Together, they started down the long aisle to the altar where the High Bishop and Phillip waited. Her mother gave them once last glance as she followed the other two. She and her father stepped up to the doorway. Rosamund got a first glance of the assemblage and stifled a gasp.

There were so many people filled in every chair from the front to the back. All rose to their feet and turned toward the door, waiting for her. Near the front of the altar, she was certain she spied the four Fae Royals. Two kings, two queens.

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