by Jessica Ashe
* * *
The manager of the gift shop made a huge fuss over us the second we walked through the door. I hated it. If this was what being a prince was like, then I knew I was making the correct decision.
“If there is anything I can do for you both, anything at all, then just let me know,” the manager said before stepping to the back of the store to give us some semblance of privacy.
“He’s still watching us,” Sophia said. “Maybe he thinks we’re going to steal something.”
“You’re American. He’s probably worried this is the prelude to an invasion.”
“Or maybe he thinks you might want assistance, but you’ll never ask for it because the English are so afraid to speak up.”
“Or he’s waiting for you to start a loud conversation on your phone, or pull out a selfie stick.”
“Hey,” Sophia said loudly. “I do not own a selfie stick. Although they do look useful.”
“Somehow I don’t think we’ll ever need help getting our picture taken.”
“Oh my God,” Sophia exclaimed loudly. She couldn’t have sounded more American if she’d have put her hand on her chest and started singing the national anthem. “They have mugs.”
“Of course they have mugs. It’s a gift shop.”
“No, I mean they have mugs of you. Look.”
Now I just wanted to vomit. It wasn’t even a flattering picture. Weren’t there any photos of me were I wasn’t drunk or hungover? “How did they even get these mugs made so quickly?”
“They aren’t exactly the best quality. I suppose they’ll do some for the royal wedding as well.”
“That’s why we’re going to have a private wedding.”
Sophia put down the mug and grabbed some sweets. “Let’s get this fudge and then go sit outside again.”
“You looked cold,” I remarked, staring at her arms and chest. “Grab a jumper as well.” Probably shouldn’t have said that; why was I encouraging her to cover up?
We stood at the top of the castle with a view overlooking the town and shared the bag of fudge between us. We’d be in range of anyone with a half-decent zoom lens now, but the pictures couldn’t be any worse than the ones they already had of me. At least I wasn’t drunk.
Sophie slipped on the jumper and lifted up the hood to stop her hair blowing everywhere. Had a princess ever been photographed in a hoodie before? Maybe. Had a princess ever been photographed looking so beautiful? Definitely not.
I’d never been so captivated by a woman showing so little skin. All I could see was her hands and face. Both were red with the cold, and she continually had to sweep the hair from her eyes.
“Do you think we’ve accomplished our mission for the day?” Sophia asked.
“Yeah, I think so. Why? Do you want to go home?”
“No, let’s stay here for a bit. The view’s nice.”
“It certainly is,” I agreed.
Sophia rested her head on my shoulder, as she reached her hand into the bag for another piece of fudge. The ring sparkled from the rays of the setting sun. It suited her.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Sophia asked.
“We don’t have to spend every day together,” I replied. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“I’m not bored of you yet. We can hang out if you like.”
“I would like that. How about we stay in and watch The Tudors on Netflix? I want you to find out what happens when Queens step out of line.”
“Oh please. You forget there’s been a power shift since the sixteenth century dear.”
“Kings still rule over Queens.”
“Yes, but I’m American, remember? Try to behead me and we’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll be driving on the right hand side of the road, and singing the American national anthem before soccer games.”
“We’ll see about—” I paused as my phone vibrated in my pocket. We hadn’t had any signal in last few hours, so I’d been left alone, but I guess we’d found a few bars of reception. Lucky me.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Sophia asked.
“I suppose I need to start telling people to piss off at some point. I really should make that my answerphone message.”
I answered the call, but I did little more than say yes ‘four’ times and then hang up.
“Who was it?”
“Change of plans for tomorrow. You need to go shopping to buy a dress.”
“Oh. Well, if you insist. Where are we going?”
“To the registry office. The wedding’s been booked. We’re getting married.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sophia
“What the hell are those things on your face?” Dani asked.
“They’re sunglasses.”
“They’re a little… big,” Ellie added delicately.
“I need them to cover my face so that no one will recognize me,” I explained.
“Well it’s working,” Dani said. “I did not for one minute think you looked like a future princess.”
“Keep your voice down,” I pleaded. “This is an incognito shopping trip. I just need to buy a dress and then we can leave.”
“Sounds fun,” Ellie said dryly. Despite what George seemed to think, I hadn’t quite gotten the hang of English sarcasm yet, so I had no idea whether Ellie was excited or not.
“You can each get a dress too. George’s treat.”
“Oh, now it sounds fun,” Ellie exclaimed.
Okay, she was being sarcastic before then.
“Good. I don’t know where the best shops are, so I’ll need you ladies to lead the way. Got any places in mind?”
“How formal is the event?” Dani asked. “Next and Topshop do decent enough dresses that can pass as formal as well at a push.”
“It’s for a small gathering in town. You’re both invited.”
“And who will be at this small gathering?” Ellie asked.
“Just the three of us and George. And a minister.”
Ellie and Dani looked at each and then back at me. “You’re getting married?” Dani yelled.
“That’s generally what happens after an engagement.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know it would happen so soon.”
“What you’re saying,” Ellie broke in, “is that you need a dress for a wedding.”
“Yep.”
“Your own wedding?”
“Yep.”
“So you need a wedding dress,” Ellie concluded.
“I guess so,” I agreed. “But it doesn’t have to be anything too fancy. I’m not wearing white. I just want a normal dress.”
“I don’t think Topshop is going to cut it,” Dani said. “There’s a little boutique place in the mall that doesn’t have a price tag on anything. Let’s start there.”
I kept my “bitch glasses” on, as Dani called them, while we walked through the mall to a small store at the back which was mercifully quiet. They also sold wedding dresses, but there were no excited brides to be in here yet.
Except me.
The lady running the store measured me, and then went to a back room to bring out some styles for me to try. She didn’t comment on the glasses, but I decided to take them off. I probably looked like a woman who’d been beaten, and that was very much not the vibe I wanted to give off.
“We saw the pictures of you online,” Ellie said.
“Oh God, I haven’t even looked. What are they like?”
“Romantic,” Ellie replied. “There are some of you holding hands while walking around the ruins of a castle, and there’s a great one where he kisses you on the forehead.”
“Don’t forget the one of them snuggling up at the top of the castle and looking out at the view,” Dani added.
“Good,” I said. “We’re supposed to look convincing.”
“Oh you looked convincing all right,” Ellie said. “I know I’m convinced.”
“Me too.”
“Alright, ladies. What’s your point?”
“Our point is,” Dani said, in typically loud fashion, “you like him. And he likes you.”
“Obviously we like each other,” I said. “I wouldn’t do this with someone I hated.”
“You nearly slept together,” Ellie helpfully pointed out.
“Nearly being the operative word.”
“So you still haven’t bumped uglies?” Dani asked.
“No, and we’re not going to.”
The manager came back to save me from further grilling, and she hung up three dresses in a fitting room for me. All the dresses looked more expensive than my entire wardrobe put together. George was going to need that inheritance money to pay his credit card bill.
“Can you measure my friends too, please?” I said to the manager. “They are getting a dress each as well.”
“Of course, Ma’am.”
“I’d like one a little more revealing at the front,” Ellie said.
“And just make mine straight up slutty,” Dani said. “The sort of thing you wouldn’t let your daughter leave the house in. Oh, and make sure it’s a dark color. I have this unfortunate habit of getting grass stains on my dresses.”
“I’m sure I can come up with something,” the lady said, before disappearing again.
I ruled the first dress out before even trying it on. Red seemed too erotic for a wedding. The second dress fit perfectly, and was certainly modest enough for a low-key ceremony. It was also boring. I didn’t want to embarrass myself at the altar, but I also had a fiancé to keep interested.
The third dress was light green and trailed down below my knees, but with some ruched styling that revealed plenty of my right thigh. It was sexy; perhaps a little too sexy.
“Can you tie me up?” I yelled, as I stepped out of the fitting room in the third dress, holding the straps that needed to be tied around the back of my neck.
Ellie and Dani stared at me, but made no effort to help.
“What?” I looked down to make sure I didn’t have a nipple showing. “Can I get some help?”
Ellie shook her head and ran over to tie me up. “Sorry, honey. I just can’t believe how perfect you look.”
“If you dare say I look fit for a prince, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“She’s right,” Dani said. “You look stunning. George won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”
My heart skipped a beat, as I imagined George reaching behind my neck and undoing the strap, before watching my dress fall to the floor.
“I should try on some more,” I said quickly. “This might not be the right one.”
It might be too perfect.
“You’re buying that dress,” Ellie insisted. “And I very much suggest you buy some sexy undies to go with it, because you won’t be sleeping alone once George sees you in that.”
“Screw that, you should go commando,” Dani said. “You can’t beat that feeling.”
“I can’t get married without any panties on.”
George would love it though. He’d be drooling all day. Then the second we were alone, he’d have me up against the wall, devouring me with his lips like he had done a few nights ago. This time he wouldn’t stop at my nipples.
“I guess I could buy this one,” I said with feigned reluctance. “Now you two get your dresses sorted out.”
“Shall we go to Ann Summers after for some panties?” Ellie asked.
“No, I’m good.”
Perhaps I didn’t need underwear after all. I never did like a visible panty line.
Chapter Fourteen
George
The venue deserved a proper wedding, not a wedding of convenience. It might only be a registry hall, but the building was old and beautiful. Yorkshire had history everywhere you looked, so I’d always walked past this building without giving it a second thought. However, when you truly stopped and looked, the beauty was impossible to miss. White marble pillars adorned the entrance, and the small set of steps leading up to the old door carried a surprising amount of grandeur.
Inside, the building was cramped, and the furniture was cheap, but the art on the walls, and the pictures of couples married hundreds of years ago, all lent a weight of authenticity.
Despite all that, we were able to squeeze in a wedding ceremony at short notice. People really didn’t appreciate what was right on their own doorstep.
“How do I look?”
I spun around and came face-to-face with the blushing bride.
Speaking of things that deserve better than a wedding of convenience.
Given the circumstances of the wedding, Sophia and I had agreed to forego all the formalities and traditions, but once she’d brought Ellie and Dani in on the plan, that all went out the window.
The girls insisted I not see Sophia on the morning of the wedding—which was quite easy to manage given that we weren’t sleeping together—and I hadn’t been allowed to see the dress.
Sophia had picked out a light green dress with a ruched bottom and sweetheart cut at the top. She looked more like a prom queen than a bride, but that was just fine with me. That was one American tradition I could definitely get behind.
“You look radiant,” I replied.
“That’s how you describe a pregnant woman.”
“Okay, then you’re glowing.”
“Also how you describe a pregnant woman. Do I look fat in this?”
“You look stunning,” I insisted. I looked down at the silver chain necklace supporting an emerald gem that hung tantalizingly just above her breasts.
“Eyes up, mister.”
“Just admiring the necklace.”
“Actually, with the amount of effort it took to get my tits into this thing, you might as well stare at them.”
“Well, if you insist.”
The one problem with a registry office wedding was that you basically had to wait in line. It was already midday—our allocated start time—but apparently weddings were like doctor’s appointments. You had to arrive on time even though the doctor was always running three appointments behind.
This didn’t feel right. I’d always thought of weddings as being pointless, and Sophia and I had always talked about this as being just a legal arrangement. Which it was. In theory.
However, it was hard to think about the theory when I had the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on standing next to me. She can’t have ever imagined this would be how her wedding day went down. Just because I hated the damn things, didn’t mean I was completely oblivious to the fantasy of the perfect wedding.
Sophia had two friends with her, but no family members. She wore a lovely dress, but it wasn’t white. The location was great, but she deserved a large church or cathedral. We could have had a grand royal wedding if we wanted to. Streets would have been closed, and the country would have had the day off work. Instead, we were waiting in the hallway of a registry office.
Had I rushed her into the decision? My proposal at the coffee shop had been a little abrupt, but she’d been leaning towards saying yes anyway. Plus, this benefited both of us. Sophia had confessed that she wanted a visa. This way she got to stay in the country after her degree, and I got to inherit a small fortune.
But still…
“It’s not too late to back out,” I whispered in Sophia’s ear. “I can take the blame if you want.”
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, not at all. But if you are… well, I just don’t want you too feel under any pressure to do this.”
“There’s no pressure. It’s just a piece of paper. My life won’t be any different tomorrow.”
“Actually, you’ll be a princess and potentially a future Queen of England.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Small change.”
“I can live with it.”
I couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across my face. If anyone saw us, we would look like a genuine couple in love and ready to spend the rest of their lives together.
Sophia started
fiddling with her breasts, so I looked over her shoulder and caught Ellie’s eye. Ellie had been cool about this entire thing. She was close to Sophia, but she wasn’t a crazy, overprotective friend. That might have lulled me into a false sense of security, because looking at Ellie now, I knew that if I hurt Sophia there would be hell to pay. I also knew I would never do that, and not because I was scared of Ellie. Well, not just because I was scared of Ellie.
The staircase creaked as a couple walked down the stairs hand in hand, followed by a flock of bridesmaids, men in suits, and women hidden under big hats. They were all so caught up in the wedding that they walked right past us and out of the door without so much as a glance in our direction. That was how it should be.
A few minutes later, our minister walked halfway down the stairs and called out for us to follow him.
“Here goes,” I said to Sophia, trying my best to give a reassuring smile.
“Hang on,” Ellie yelled out. “George, you need to go up first, and then we need to walk behind Sophia and hold up her train.”
“I don’t have a train,” Sophia argued. “You’re just going to be holding up my skirt and getting an eyeful of my ass.”
“We’re doing it anyway,” Ellie insisted, as her and Dani got in position.
“I think I’d like to stand behind her as well,” I suggested. “Sounds like there’s a great view.”
“Get up those stairs, George,” Dani snapped.
“Christ, I knew married life would involve being bossed around, but I’d assumed that would be coming from the missus.”
I jogged up the stairs and introduced myself to the minister.
“Oh wow,” he said, when he shook my hand. “I’d seen the names on the calendar, but I assumed someone was playing a joke. It’s really you.”
“It’s really me.”
“Didn’t think I’d ever conduct a royal wedding.”
“Didn’t think I’d ever be in one.”
Our conversation ended with the ear-splitting noise of a northern girl and a welsh girl screeching “here comes the bride” at the tops of their already loud voices.
“You’re definitely going to remember this one,” I said to the registrar, who looked like he was on the verge of putting his hands over his ears.