“Come with me.” He urged her as he led the horse to a nearby tree, wrapping the reins around a branch. Then he laced his fingers with hers, walking a few feet to the highest elevation. “This.” He waved a hand to the valley below and then to the heavens above, brightened by the moon. “Is my favorite place.”
She’d been to his country a half dozen times and he’d never shown her this. A lump grew in her throat. “It’s…beautiful.”
It was. The gentle slope and what she knew to be green grass lay before them. The village sat below—small houses with a few lights on, perhaps a business or two closing up for the night as lights flickered off, and farther from the center where cows and goats and horses grazing in their separate fields. Far beyond were the ragged cliffs and wild coast.
“My home. My country.” Pride and something else beamed in his voice. Love.
Sophia sensed the question and invitation at the same time. “It’s mine, if I want.”
“Exactly.”
She drew in the fresh, sweet chilly night air. Then she turned to face Sebastian. He stared at her expectantly. “You’re mine, if I choose.”
“Do you?”
The beat of silence stretched. “This isn’t King’s.” She realized how much they didn’t know about each other still.
“Our neutral ground.” His words were soft, yet accurate.
“How did you know?”
“I tried to push it away. Going to your country makes it very clear. I have little to offer—”
“Stop. Please, Sebastian. Yes, it’s beautiful and sunny and sits near the tranquil sea. But it’s…empty.” She shrugged. “I see the beauty, but can’t feel the soul. Not like here. Your land and your people beats with energy and purpose. And you, my love, fill with joy when you are here.” A hint of envy echoed in her words.
“Then you are home.” He opened his arms.
She went to him. “There’s so many things in the way. A kingdom.”
“A king, too.” He brushed his cheek against her hair. “He finds fault with my country to point out what is good with yours.”
“He wants me there, fulfilling my duties.”
“It makes him feel better to bring light to what you will lack for.” He lifted her chin, so he could look into her troubled eyes. “What do you want?”
“Not the prison I’m in now.” Her words tumbled out and the burden lifted from her center. Understanding sank in then. “My mother was so lonely, Sebastian, so cut off from everyone.” So like me when I’m there. “She craved independence. She never got it… That day, she drove the car—trying to get a little taste of normalcy. Her detail raced after her. You know the rest…”
“I have to ask this, Sophia.” He waited until she focused fully on him. “Are you using me to escape that life?”
“You don’t ask easy questions, Sebastian.” She swallowed hard. Sophia considered it for long moments. “No. It’s you I want. Anywhere.”
“Now?”
She grinned. “Yes. But what am I agreeing to?”
“Marry me.”
“I am. In a little more than four weeks.”
“Here. Tonight.”
Sophia giggled. “Is it legal?”
“Not in any court. But, for us, it is.”
Her breath came out shivery. “Yes.”
Sebastian kissed the tip of her nose and held her loosely in his arms. “My sweet Sophia, I pledge my heart to you. I will always be your protector, your friend, and your lover.”
His fiercely spoken words swept over her and settled deep inside—in a place where she didn’t know needed to hear them. She glowed from within as she lifted her face to gaze into his eyes. “My dearest Sebastian, I pledge my heart and my soul to you. Forever.”
He leaned down. His lips touched hers and she melted under his soft, sweet caress. “I am yours, Sophia. Know that.” Sebastian deepened the kiss, slowly giving and taking until she didn’t know where she ended and he began.
Her heart filled with love for this man who declared he was hers.
How had she ever doubted them?
An hour later, Sophia faced her father as she snuck back in the castle through the kitchen’s back door. “Papa, you’re up.” Her voice cracked. She swore he looked just as startled by her sudden appearance as she did his.
He fastened the belt to his purple velvet robe with gold trim, yanking it tighter. “Sophia, where have you been? Your guards? This is highly unacceptable.”
“She was with me.” Sebastian’s quiet entrance only added to her father’s dismay.
“Your reputation, Sophia!” His sharp reprimand sent her back over a dozen years when she stomped in muddy rain puddles, splattered her pretty flower girl dress, and then the photographers made a field day out of the photos.
Her belly knotted. She gripped the large island counter, clinging to the butcher block to steady her warring emotions. “Papa, please. It was an innocent meeting. Sebastian and I don’t get a great deal of time alone.”
“And you shouldn’t.” Her father plopped down in a tall-backed chair, leaned his forearms on the table, and then dropped his head in his hands. “You are betrothed. There are expectations to adhere to. You have duties to perform. Preparations to oversee in your own country. Yet you are here on a holiday. Where did I go wrong? If your mother was here, she would see to it you followed protocol.”
That stabbed Sophia in her chest. He didn’t realize how much flinging that at her cost her. She’d never be able to live up to his expectations for her.
“She’d be proud of Sophia.” Sebastian wrapped a warm, comforting arm around her shoulders, lending her support.
Gratitude surged inside her for this man at her side. “I’ve done my best to follow your protocol and many rules, Papa. This time, it wasn’t against you. It was for me.”
“And the wedding dress? Is that for you, too?” He lifted his head to scowl at her, his lips tightening.
Her breath stayed trapped in her throat. What did he know? How did he know? “Dr-dress?”
“Your friends arrived a short while ago. Woke up the entire house.” He nodded to them smashed together in the doorframe, obviously listening intently to the tense exchange.
“Rico? Peg?” Relief surged through Sophia as she raced around the island and to them and they to her. They met in the dining area, coming together in a powerful embrace.
“OMG, girl! Don’t make me cry.” Rico squeezed her. “Operation Better Dress isn’t a secret anymore.”
“Geez Louise, you think?” Peg hugged Sophia, nudged Rico with an elbow, and still managed to hold onto her ever present clipboard. “We kinda sorta slipped up when you show up in the wee hours of the morning and greeted by a wall of guards and a grumpy old king.”
Sophia chuckled. “It’s so good to see you and a part of King’s. I’ve missed you.” Her heart hitched as she caught Sebastian’s smile. Things had been easier then. For both of them.
“Since we’re all up, can I offer you coffee—”
Her father cleared his throat. “It seems I’ve worked up an appetite, Sebastian. Any leftovers?”
“Roast beef?” Sebastian and Sophia asked in unison. She was certain her father hadn’t approved of the simple, yet delicious meal. He’d partaken in countless ones with multiple courses, each one outdoing the last by the master chef in charge.
“That sounds yummy.” Rico air-kissed Sophia’s cheeks and then moved to the table, settling in beside the older man. “Now, King. Can I call you King?” Rico patted the royal’s arm. “The dress. Yeah, it’s a no.” He shook his head. “Outdated.” He shuddered. “Ruffles are so, so yesterday, by twenty years.”
“I’ll say.” Peg shot Sophia a grin and joined her friend, plopping down on a chair. The funny lady finally released her death grip on her clipboard. The slight clatter as it hit the surface echoed for a moment.
As the odd trio chatted—from wedding gowns to traveling for hours to the delights of the castle—Sophia raised an e
yebrow at Sebastian.
He shrugged, but he chuckled as he opened the enormous fridge.
As he unloaded the dishes, Sophia grabbed them and slide them onto the island. “Are we feeding an army?”
“Have you seen those two eat before?”
Sophia giggled, releasing the pent-up tension inside her. By the looks of it, things were upside down, but somehow just right…or on the way to it. Maybe late-night snacks were the beginning of a beautiful outcome…
“Spa? There’s a spa in the castle? Why, that’s unheard of!” Her father nearly bellowed the words. “It’s bad enough this is a boarding house.”
Sebastian stilled in the handing off the pitcher of milk.
She froze in her tracks. No. Big bump in the road. The knots in her gut returned, twisting. Her father never out-and-out insulted something, just made his displeasure known. Very loudly and very succinctly. She should know.
“Holy moly!” Peg snorted. “That’s a good one. Boarding house.” She slapped her hand down on the table, laughing. “How about a top rating on the best travel site in the world? And King’s—you know the place, Kingo, right? Yeah, they only accept the best of the best—they partnered with this guy. We sell out travel packages to the filthy rich in minutes every time we post them. Why, Sebastian’s castle is booked up for months through next year, isn’t that right?” She turned and winked.
Sophia relaxed, feeling Sebastian doing the same.
“Good ol’ Peg.” Sebastian’s whispered words were filled with wonder.
Her father leaned in closer to the dynamic duo. “Tell me about this spa. I’ve never been to one.”
“What? Say it isn’t so, King!” Rico pressed a hand to his chest. “Where have you been all your life? It’s just the most wonderful experience.” He snapped his fingers and pointed to the king. “We’ll go first thing in the morning. Massage. Sauna. Pedicure.”
“Pedicure?” Sophia, Sebastian, and her father asked in unison.
“Holy moly, he won’t know what hit him.” Peg grabbed for her clipboard. “Time for a list. Oh, and while we’re at it, we’ll discuss the wedding dress design. No, don’t thank me…” She peeked up and grinned at Sophia and Sebastian. Peg mouthed, “I got this.”
“Indeed she does.” Sebastian placed a soft kiss on Sophia’s cheek. “You, my love, will get the gown of your dreams.”
Sophia reached out and halted Sebastian as he went to gather plates. She swallowed hard at his loving gaze. “Just as long as I get you, the man of my dreams, too.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t you think that?”
Somehow she couldn’t dismiss the tiny ripple of fear that wound through her and was gone in an instant. It didn’t make sense.
Everything was falling into place—even with the side of hiccups now and then—wasn’t it?
Chapter 6
The next morning, Sebastian peeked into the spa session of Sophia, Peg, Rico, and the king—all lined up, sitting in big, comfy pedicure chairs with those white spacers between their toes, drinking the latest invention from one of his staff, chatting and smiling. Either it was the cocktails or the specialists attending to their feet.
“Oh, that tickles.” Sophia’s father chuckled.
The others giggled. Sebastian smothered a laugh at the unlikely sight of an esteemed royal—the king himself—enjoying the not-so-manly treat.
Easing back out, Sebastian caught the surprised, unguarded look of one of the king’s security detail.
“Who would have thought, right?”
The middle-aged gentleman smiled, shrugged, and then shook his head.
At least Sophia appeared happier after one fiasco after another. It seemed the closer they got to their wedding day, the more roadblocks they encountered.
Always her father.
However, the press in her country repeatedly pointed out the stunning idea of Princess Sophia marrying beneath her station. Far below. Everyone weighed in with their unwanted and unsolicited opinion of him and his country.
They smarted, some lasting and ringing in his head long after he thrown them out with the trash. How dare they question his integrity and his honor. More so, his people.
“I should have never subscribed to them,” Sebastian muttered as he stormed into his office and slammed down the latest edition—this one an infamously bad tabloid out of England. He’d wanted to pull Sophia away from the spa to show her, but she was enjoying it too much for him to interrupt. He didn’t want to ruin it for her.
Now, he stared at the grainy black-and-white photo of her with the older woman in the wheelchair. The fan had practically been beside them it appeared, and overheard the fierce statement of the woman.
Those words—ones Sophia had repeated to him—blared out in the headline and sent a well of unease through Sebastian. The way the rag paper speculated about it and what it could mean made it out to be far more concerning and sinister.
There is another!
What could that possibly mean?
Saying good-bye to Sebastian at the airport had been difficult over a week ago, but Sophia pressed on with the numerous wedding preparations for a guest list of a thousand. With Peg and Rico flying back with her and then lending a hand, it was almost delightful. Their stay was short, but productive.
Oh, the choices they’d helped her make. And the design ideas and conferences with King’s best—including her best friend, Belle—were some of her favorites. Everyone listened to what she wanted and suggested ways to improve upon it.
They were working nonstop to get the dress completed on time while the devoted team in her country—with instructions from King’s—sewed and hand-stitched thousands of tiny beads and jewels in the intricate whispery lace of her veil and train, fabrics and gems native to her beloved land.
She loved the groom’s cake and couldn’t wait for Sebastian to see the replica of his castle, their cottage, and his village. Imagining his reaction to the sight of it was downright agonizing and exciting at the same time.
Her time filled with activities, charity events, and ended with nights on FaceTime with Sebastian. Alone in her mother’s parlor—her safe haven—she welcomed their exchanges, finally allowing herself to open up to him on her lonely childhood, shyly showing him a few younger photos of herself in her mother’s numerous albums, and her tightly reined-in existence even now.
In turn, he filled her in on his many adventures and updates on the finishing touches to the castle renovations. However, he refused to elaborate on his secret cottage remodel, wanting to surprise her.
“Our home,” they’d said in unison at least once every conversation.
Her phone rang, making her jump. She lunged for it on her vanity. A hint of disappointment jabbed her at it not being Sebastian. But only for a moment. “Rico. Is anything wrong?”
“FaceTime me. Oh, that sounded so dirty.”
In the background, Peg snorted. “Holy crumb cakes, bub, you just said that to a real live princess.”
“It’s just our Sophia.”
“Wait, let me do this thing…” It took Sophia long, drawn-out minutes to figure it out and then she saw them filling her screen and waving at her. “Hey, you two.” She must have smiled all the way down to her toes at the welcome sight of her friends.
“And me.” Belle popped up behind them. “Oh my goodness! I have so much to tell you. The dress—”
“Is divine.” Rico shooed Belle like a pesky fly. “This is so not about that.”
“What then?” Sophia glanced from one grinning face to another. “Come on. Tell me.”
Peg lifted her clipboard and turned it to face her then back around quick. “Roger that?”
“As if.” Sophia chuckled in spite of herself.
“OMG, the Pegster actually let you get a glimpse of her sacred clipboard. I’m not even sure she ever lets Austin see it. The man is a saint, if you ask me.” Rico pressed a hand to his cheek and then gave in to an all-out ear-to-ear Cheshire cat smile. “Yeah, sw
eetie, it’s that good.”
“Well? The suspense is killing me.”
Rico and Peg squealed at the same time.
The sound blared over the thousands and thousands of miles, making Sophia pull back.
“We’re certified!” Rico glowed.
“As?”
“Geez Louise, to marry people! Online legit and everything.” Peg tapped her clipboard. “It’s right here in black and white.”
“Here it comes, Sophia.” Belle shook her head, but her lips twitched.
“Can we? Pretty please?” Rico clasped his hands together.
Confusion tugged at Sophia. “I’m lost.” Then dawning hit. “Wait. You two want to marry Sebastian and me?”
“Yep. And Stephan and me, too.” Belle gave her a thumbs-up. “Isn’t that the best? Can you imagine the two kings’ jaws dropping? Your father and Stephan’s father?” She laughed so hard she bent over, leaning her forehead on Peg’s shoulder.
It led to Peg and Rico chuckling, too—so hard, in fact, all three couldn’t utter another word.
“Stop.” Sophia tried to contain the bubbling laughter at the visual. She failed miserably. Oh, the image of her two friends delivering part of the ceremony, cracking up in front of all those royals, dignitaries, politicians, and celebrities. She secretly loved the idea. “Let’s keep this between us, shall we?”
Hours later, Sophia checked herself in the full-length, gold-framed mirror one last time, doing a half turn to see the back of the lovely blue, silky gown. Her matching heels came into view in the low peekaboo slit and she sighed, satisfied she wouldn’t disappoint her father at this charity dinner. Well, in looks. Perhaps not in enthusiasm.
If only she could just visit the children in the hospital without her father’s objections about her getting too emotionally involved—as she often did—instead of spending hours silently smiling and nodding at the wealthy donors. Sadly, they bored her.
Why go to all this fuss and expense when they could just sign a check and do even more good? Or better yet, sign the check and go volunteer to see for themselves how desperately sick the children were and how isolated they and their families felt. A ping of empathy went off in her chest. She knew that lost feeling…
Once Upon a Royal Wedding Page 4