A Prince For Sophie

by Morgan Ashbury

  Watching the horde disappear in the rearview mirror, he asked Sophie, “What the hell was that?”

  “According to my father, that was a typographical error.”

  Chapter 11

  Hannah remembered very clearly her first wedding day. They hadn’t had a lot of money, and her mother had set very definite restrictions on the event. Because Hannah had been sixteen and pregnant, her mother had forbidden her to wear white. As well, only a handful of people were invited to the church, and a restaurant dinner afterwards. She’d gone to the hairdresser’s alone, and gotten dressed alone. No twittering and giggling friends passed the preparation time with her. No photographer stood ready to record the day for posterity. She recalled thinking, as she waited for her father to walk her down the aisle of their small church, that the occasion had resembled a penance more than a celebration.

  She’d kept her mother’s unbending attitude in mind when, nearly twenty years later, her own teenage daughter had gotten pregnant. She’d promised Catharine then if she wanted to walk down the aisle eight months pregnant wearing white, that would be fine with her.

  The memory slid back into the past where it belonged, replaced by the images she’d gathered so far of this wedding day.

  She’d awakened in Alex’s arms, surrounded by his heat and his love. They’d come together without words, the emotion between them so potent, so breathtakingly moving, she nearly cried.

  At breakfast, there had been laughter and teasing. Justin had served mimosas, and Philip and Catharine had arrived from the farm, interrupting their honeymoon to share the day with Hannah and Alex.

  In the afternoon, her daughters and daughter-in-law brought her into the Queen’s Solar, where she experienced that ritual of female pampering she’d enjoyed once before. But this time, not only did the attendants fuss over her, so did the girls. They were all excited and nervous for her.

  Hannah wasn’t nervous at all, only impatient for dusk to arrive so she could exchange vows with the man she loved.

  She returned to her room to dress, planning to wear an ivory satin cocktail suit, one of the outfits Alex had given her a couple of weeks before. He’d offered, of course, but she’d declined the services of a dressmaker. She didn’t need a fancy wedding dress. She just needed Alex.

  As she entered the bedroom, she saw the box on the bed. Alex was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered if that was on purpose. Shaking her head she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Alex had told her she needed to get used to receiving gifts. As far as she was concerned, the very fact that he loved her and wanted her for his wife was gift enough to last a lifetime. But as he seemed to derive great pleasure out of giving her things, she guessed she’d best get used to it.

  Sighing, she approached the box. It was plain white, decorated with a red ribbon and bow. There was a large tag attached, with a message written in sparkly gold script.

  “From your fairy godmothers,” Hannah read aloud. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Godmothers? Plural?” Maybe it wasn’t Alex who’d done this. Shrugging, she pulled off the ribbon and opened the box.

  “Oh my God.”

  Her fingers shook as she lifted out the gown, instantly familiar yet not seen in more than thirty years. Her mind flashed back to that long ago time when she’d been looking through the pages of a bridal magazine. She’d turned a page and been instantly captivated, in love with the dress as only a teenage girl could be. It had been an almost iridescent white, gossamer, with tiny gold threads woven throughout. At the time, the way the fabric cascaded over the model’s figure had made Hannah think of fairies’ wings. Empire waist, long flowing skirt, the gown had been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Oh, how badly she’d wanted it, and how bitter had been her tears when her mother had told her that such a dress could never be hers.

  And here it was now, in her hands! She laid the wedding dress on the bed, gently smoothing the fabric, though of course it needed no smoothing. For a long moment she simply stared at it, the wonder and the magic she sensed in it shimmering through her.

  “Grandma, are there really such things as fairy godmothers?”

  “Yes.”

  The words echoed in her memory. Hannah’s heart filled with joy and gratitude.

  “Thank you. Not just for the gown. But for everything. For me and Alex, Catharine and Philip, Peter and Rachel. And Sophie, too, as I doubt you’ll leave the task only partly done.”

  No one answered, of course. But she didn’t need to hear the voices. Faith was like that.

  Discarding her robe, Hannah reached for the gown. She didn’t check the size. She knew it would fit perfectly.

  Faith was like that, too.

  * * * *

  Alex remembered his first wedding day. It had been regimented and choreographed to the finest detail. He’d gone through the motions, knowing with every breath that it was duty, not love that steered the events, and accepting that with—well, if not with a cheerful heart, at least a heart that was free of resentment.

  This day had been free of regimentation and filled instead with joy. Even as the women of his family had ushered Hannah off to be pampered, the men had taken him in hand.

  “There’s a tradition in Canada,” Peter had said as they’d entered the games room, “called the bachelor party. Usually it takes place about a month before the wedding, allowing the groom sufficient time to recover.”

  “Recover from what, Uncle Peter?” Jamie had asked.

  Alex had enjoyed the look of chagrin on Peter’s face, the laughter on Craig’s, and the curiosity of his sons and other grandsons.

  “That’s not important. What is important is that as men we need to at least give some attention to this fine tradition.”

  They played poker and ate pizza. The younger males among them—Richard, John and Jamie—had shown enough affinity for the card game that it left their fathers more than a little nervous. With laughter and wisecracks, they had each given Alex their theories of and advice about marriage and relationships. Jamie’s contribution, “when you’re married you have to kiss your wife all the time”, pronounced with such disgust, had been especially heartwarming.

  No honor he’d ever received meant more, and no gathering had ever been more fun than this bachelor party.

  Now, under the stars all was nearly ready. The archbishop had arrived, and was proving a good sport about performing a wedding ceremony on the beach. Justin had seen to transforming the venue into something quite special. Red carpet provided a temporary floor, and candles protected by glass globes leant the beach an exotic appearance.

  All that was needed was the bride.

  He and Hannah had decided theirs would be a simple ceremony. They’d chosen to forgo formal attendants. His oldest friends, the Benets, were here. Together with his children and Hannah’s, and their grandchildren, they formed a semi-circle, enclosing them all in an intimate group.

  As soon as Hannah appeared at the top of the beach stairs, he was mesmerized. It was as if everyone else had disappeared and they were the only two people in the world. Had there ever been a more beautiful woman? Alex knew the answer was no. The light from the candles became tiny jewels, sparkling and twinkling all through her hair as she descended the stairs with slow, seductive grace. Her dress shimmered, swirling colors of white and gold, pink and silver and a fine delicate blue, as if the garment had been woven by magic from mother of pearl. No wonder she’d declined his offer of a new gown when she already had the perfect one chosen.

  His first sight of her on that moon-washed beach more than a month before had compelled him to compare her to a goddess. No goddess could compare, this night, to her.

  He held out his hand, and when she took it, he led her the few steps to where Archbishop Drapeau was waiting.

  “We are gathered here together at this time and in this place, to witness the marriage of Alexandre Michel Philippe de la Croix and Hannah Elizabeth Jones,” the archbishop intoned, the twinkle in his eyes belying his solemn
pronouncement. “The bride and groom have chosen to write their own vows.”

  Alex turned to Hannah. Lifting the hand he still held to his lips, he kissed it. He was unashamed that his eyes were moist. He never believed such a moment could ever be his.

  “Do you have any idea, my love, how incredibly happy you make me? For the last decade, I’ve raised my children and ruled my country, and told myself I was content. Yet there was a loneliness deep within me, a yearning I thought would never be fulfilled. And then one evening, I looked up and there you were. I love you with all my heart, and I will love you for all of my life and beyond. I will share your burdens, and your joys, and ask that you share mine, for every moment, of every day, from this time, forward.” He brought Hannah’s hands to his lips and kissed them again. The tear that tracked down her cheek sparkled in the candlelight. Her smile was more brilliant than all the stars in the heavens.

  And when she gave him her own vow, her voice was clear and strong and the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

  “I thought I knew what love was. I thought I knew what the rest of my life had in store for me and I, too, believed myself content. And then I met you, and I understood that I’d never really known anything about love at all. I love you more than I believed I could love, and loving you, I understand, as never before, that all things are possible. Magic brought us together. Love will keep us together for all of eternity. I will care for you, and trust that you will care for me. I will laugh with you and cry with you and live every moment of every day with you, joyfully, gratefully, from this time, forward.”

  The archbishop turned to Michael, and Alex’s eldest son carefully placed a ring on the pages of the open Bible he held. When the cleric turned to Catharine, she set another ring beside the first.

  “These rings are but symbols of the love and commitment you’ve pledged, one to the other.”

  When the archbishop had blessed the rings, Alex reached for the smaller of the two. He held it in place over Hannah’s finger.

  “With this ring, I declare you my wife, and my queen. Everything I have is yours. Now and forever.” Then he slid it all the way onto her finger, and offered his own left hand to her. He’d not worn a ring last time. But he wanted, very much, to wear Hannah’s ring now.

  “With this ring, I declare you my husband, my king, my liege lord. In accordance with the customs of the royal house of Boisdemer, I will serve and defend you, and her, with all that I am, for all of the rest of the days of my life.”

  Alex felt his heart turn over as Hannah spoke the traditional words of the Queen’s Pledge of Fealty. Her smile, as she then knelt before him, told him she knew she’d surprised him.

  It was his turn to surprise her. He nodded to Justin, who stepped forward, a cushion of royal blue velvet in his hands. Alex picked up the delicate crown, and the servant bowed and stepped back to his place.

  “This was my grandmother’s crown,” he said softly as tears welled up in Hannah’s eyes. “Like you, Isabella was a woman of strength and character. A woman who nurtured, and loved. It was among her roses you agreed to be my wife. How fitting, then, that you wear her crown.”

  He set the delicate piece of gold, bejeweled with diamonds and sapphires, on her head. Queen Isabella’s Crown was one of the smallest of the coronets in the crown jewels, which was another reason he’d chosen it. His Hannah didn’t like ostentatious at all.

  He brought her to her feet, and turned them both to face the archbishop, who blessed them before saying, “I pronounce you husband and wife.”

  As Alex leaned forward, capturing Hannah’s lips with his, the night sky exploded into glittering colors, red and green, brilliant silver and gold. Breaking their kiss, he put his arm around his wife and marveled at the unexpected celestial display.

  “They’re coming from everywhere!” Hannah whispered in wonder.

  “So they are.” From every direction, all across the skies of Boisdemer, fireworks were cascading color upon dazzling color. Little Michelle shrieked and laughed with joy, awed by the display. Alex smiled, thoroughly enjoying her delight. Before long, her brothers and cousin joined in.

  “People were so happy that you and father were to be married,” Philip said. “Someone suggested they light fireworks as soon as you were wed. The idea took hold.”

  “Magic and love,” Alex murmured, and kissed the top of Hannah’s head when she leaned closer to him.

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  “You said magic and love, and I know, standing here right now, you were absolutely right. There’s magic in the air, and has been, since we met.”

  “Do you mind? That magic had a hand in our coming together?”

  His heart was so full, he was amazed he could contain all the love he felt. Leaning forward, he kissed her. “Mind? My beloved wife, I’ll be grateful for that magic for as long as I live.”

  “My dear husband, I feel the exactly the same way.”

  Chapter 12

  Sophie looked out from the balcony off her suite, the setting sun casting a gentle glow across the palace grounds. From her vantage point, she had a perfect view of the steady stream of cars that were carrying guests for what the press had dubbed the ‘Dowry Ball’.

  This entire event, she thought morosely, had gotten completely out of hand. It astounded her that the more her father insisted that his daughter was not for sale, the more the media of the world seemed to think she was. She’d even appeared with Hannah and her father on an American television morning show, where they’d been interviewed specifically about the charity event. Her father and Hannah had been brilliant with the hosts, who had concluded that any woman as beautiful as Sophie certainly didn’t need her father’s help to nab a husband.

  Sophie frowned, the uncomfortable sensation that had plagued her since hearing the commentator’s opinion returning to shiver down her spine.

  A noise in the room behind her made her turn away from the view. Her maid was standing near the bed, quietly waiting.

  Re-entering her bedroom, she closed the terrace doors and offered Paulette a smile. “Thank you for being so patient with me. I suppose I’ve put off getting ready long enough.”

  “I’m at your service whenever you wish, Your Highness. Are you planning to leave your hair down tonight?”

  Unlike other occasions, she hadn’t bothered to use the spa staff today. In fact, Sophie hadn’t given her appearance for tonight a single thought. She’d kept herself busy all day in the vain hope that if she put the evening out of her mind, it would go away. Since that hadn’t worked, she reconsidered her approach.

  “No, Paulette. I think I want it up. We’ll use my double tier silver tiara, I think. And I’ve changed my mind on the gown as well. Rather than wearing the soft gold, I want the silver. You know the one I mean?”

  “The one that fashion reporter said was ‘reminiscent of an icicle’?”

  Sophie laughed. “You understand what I mean to do!”

  “I think so, Your Highness. You intend to project the image you’ve been labeled with.”

  “I do, indeed. Let’s see how well we can put together an ice princess. Perhaps I’ll be able to turn these would-be suitors away with just a chilling stare.”

  * * * *

  “I think we may be in danger of violating the fire code.”

  Stephan looked over at Peter. The man was never really still. Even though Peter stood immobile beside him, his eyes were on a constant sweep of the room, and Stephan understood that he was always vigilant, always on guard.

  “In what way?”

  “The number of people here,” Peter explained. “I’ve never seen the ballroom so full.”

  Stephan studied the crowd. The orchestra was playing, and waiters were circulating with refreshments. In just a few moments, Alex and Hannah, and Sophie, would be announced.

  “Is it my imagination, or are there a lot more men than women here?”

  “Not your imagination, pal. That ‘typographical error’ is turning
into the lie that would not die. The majority of these suitors, as well as most of the press, are convinced that Sophie is the top prize.”

  “They are not suitors, they are delusional miscreants.” Stephan stubbornly ignored the edge in his voice and what it meant. “When we were accosted the other day leaving the Children’s Home, I thought that was the most insane thing I had ever seen. Now, I stand corrected.”

  “You know,” Peter said, looking Stephan straight in the eye, “It’s the strangest damn thing. Of all the men who are attending tonight, there are 70 named King, 21 named Roi, 18 named Rey, and 12 named Koenig. And then of course, there’s Mr. Gaynor.”

  “I’m missing your point,” Stephan replied. Truly, it was becoming difficult to give Peter his full attention when Sophie would be there at any moment.

  “Don’t you think it’s strange? They’re all variations of the word ‘king’. And Gaynor’s nickname is ‘The man with the Midas Touch. You remember the fairy tale, about King Midas? I just thought it was odd.”

  The orchestra sounded a fanfare. A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes turned toward the Grand Entrance.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, their majesties, King Alexandre and Queen Hannah, accompanied by Princess Sophie, the Princess Royal.”

  “Still gives me a shiver,” Peter murmured.

  Stephan joined with the guests in applauding. He shot a smile to his new friend.

  “Hard to get used to, your mother being a queen? Or is it the fact that Uncle Alex is bestowing the title of Duke of Cardinia upon you, since you’re marrying his daughter?”

  Peter laughed. “It’s a good thing I love that woman. And speaking of women, had you hoped to dance with Sophie tonight?”

  The barely suppressed laughter on Peter’s face immediately raised his suspicions.

  “It seems to be the only way I can get my hands on her lately, so yes.”

  “Good luck. I think the lady’s dance card is already full.”