Hadrian squeezed Sydney’s hand, and she smiled at him. She was still nervous, but she was doing her best not to show it.
“I love you,” he whispered to her.
“I love you too,” she said back, letting her cheek graze his before softly kissing it.
“Now, now,” Elizabeth said. “We haven’t toasted yet.”
Hadrian glanced at her. “You should talk. We almost had to pry you and George apart.”
“Water guns seemed to be your separator of choice,” George said.
Hadrian smiled, remembering how Dante and he had tormented the heck out of Elizabeth and George. “Dante used the water guns.”
“And you helped,” Elizabeth said.
Lindsey started laughing. She was the youngest of them all, barely twenty-two, and always chased after Hadrian and Dante. “But you were such easy targets.”
“Dante instigated a lot of it,” Hadrian said, holding up his hands. He glanced at Michel, and saw the strain in his eyes. Suddenly Hadrian felt sick for even mentioning Dante.
“Dante was a prankster,” Michel said. “Remember when he stole the king’s crown?”
Hadrian stared at Michel, his jaw slack. “He stole the crown?” He’d known Dante’s prankster habits were legendary, but he had never heard this particular tale.
“Not really stolen,” Elizabeth said. “Just put it away for safe keeping.” She started laughing.
“When was that?” Hadrian asked.
“Oh, he was, what,” Michel glanced at Elizabeth, who was only a couple of years younger than him. “Six? Seven?”
“Where was it?”
Over the laughter, no one heard the butler announce the king and queen.
“In the freezer.” The king’s voice boomed across the room. He looked well, though tired, however, he was dressed in a nice suit, and the queen was on his arm, whether she supported him, or he her, Hadrian wasn’t sure. “Someone—” the king glanced at Michel, “—told Dante the stones on the crown were made of ice, and they’d melt if I got mad enough. And Dante had broken one of my favorite…” He gazed at his wife. “What did he break?”
The queen shrugged. “It could have been anything. We replaced a lot of things when Dante was young.”
Michel grinned.
Hadrian took Sydney’s arm, and immediately bowed to the king and queen. “Majesties,” he said. “I would like to present my wife, Duchess Bouzio.”
Sydney curtseyed, a very smooth movement, keeping her head down. “It is an honor, Majesties.”
“Look at me, child,” said the king.
Sydney brought her head up. He could see her taking in the king and queen, but her fingers trembled. She must be terrified. For one moment, he realized exactly how much she’d heard when he spoke to them on the phone.
He reached out, taking her hand.
“Yes, Majesty,” Sydney said.
“Let’s look at you,” the queen said, and she walked around Sydney. She hummed to herself as she appraised her, taking her in.
When she returned to the king’s side, she glanced at Hadrian, then at Sydney again. “Empire, most certainly. Though not frilly.”
Sydney blinked, her eyes wide. “Pardon me?”
The king patted the queen’s arm. “You are going to frighten the girl.” He met Sydney’s gaze. “The queen loves to plan events. You have, unintentionally, made a friend, or a foe, depending on your point of view.”
The queen rolled her eyes. “You make me sound like a monster.”
Hadrian smirked.
From behind him, everyone else snickered as well. “Sometimes,” came a rather hoarse voice that Hadrian was pretty sure was Michel.
The king smiled. The queen let out a sigh. “Sydney, I was referring to your wedding dress. You do not seem the type who would like a frilly wedding gown.”
Sydney shrugged. “Really, Your Highness—”
The room went still.
“Majesty,” Hadrian whispered. “The king and queen are Majesties.”
“I’m sorry. Oh I’m sorry, Your Hi—I mean Your Majesties,” she said, covering her face in her hands.
“It is quite all right,” said the queen. “You are American, the intricacies of a monarchy are foreign to you. You are forgiven. This time.”
“Yes, Majesty. Thank you.” Her hands still shook. Hadrian squeezed her fingers, and she squeezed back, and for a second, she met his gaze.
“Don’t scare her,” Michel said from behind them, much closer. “She’s probably already overwhelmed.”
“We do not overwhelm,” the king countered.
“Sure you don’t,” Hadrian said.
“Hadrian, remember yourself,” the king replied.
“Sorry,” Hadrian said. “You most certainly do not overwhelm, Majesty.”
Lindsey burst out laughing. Which only started an uproar of laughter in the room. Even Sydney seemed to relax a bit at the laughter. She smiled at Hadrian.
The king let out a sigh. “All you children mock me. I should disown every one of you.”
This only brought more laughter, even from the queen. Although she didn’t outright laugh, she did smirk.
The king shook his head, as the laughter died down. “Now, as for you, young lady.” He narrowed his gaze on Sydney.
“Yes, Majesty?”
He didn’t say anything for a full minute, staring at Sydney. The tension thickened to almost a palpable substance in the room until the king spoke. “Do you love my nephew?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, with all my heart.” Sydney glanced at Hadrian. He felt his chest swell with pride, and he reached over, stroking her hand.
The king nodded. “Good, that’s good to hear,” he said. Then he glared at Hadrian. “You running off and marrying without bringing this woman here, though, that I have great issue with.”
“My father married, if you’ll recall, without your father’s permission,” Hadrian interjected.
“And look at how well that worked out for him,” the king countered. He shifted, coughing for a second then let out another sigh. “Regardless, what’s done is done. We shall marry you both in an appropriate ceremony, all the world will know that the Duke of Bouzio has chosen a bride.”
Hadrian nodded. “Thank you, Majesty.”
There was a clatter on a glass. “Now, since you so rudely interrupted me before,” Michel began, “I was about to toast Hadrian for his new fiancée and their coming surprise.”
The king nodded, and the queen stepped to the same bar that Hadrian had poured himself a drink, and made her and the king their own drinks.
“As far as anyone knows, outside of this room, Sydney is Hadrian’s fiancée, not his wife.” The king looked everyone over. “That means you, Lindsey.”
“Too late,” she said, pulling out her cell phone. “I already tweeted it.”
“Lindsey!” snapped the queen.
Lindsey grinned. “I’m kidding. But I am going to tweet that Hadrian is getting married.”
“You child, will be the death of me,” the King said.
Lindsey laughed. “So bringing my new boyfriend to the wedding is out?”
The king looked at the ceiling, made the sign of the cross over him, and started rambling off prayers.
The queen shook her head. “Child, you may bring your boyfriend to the wedding. As long as he’s dressed appropriately.”
“I don’t know. All I’ve ever seen him in is dusty dig clothes.”
Hadrian glanced at his sister. “Are you done?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
Michel cleared his throat. “Excuse me. A toast.”
Sydney smiled, the first genuine one Hadrian had seen on her face since they’d come in the room. And it lit up her face. She glowed from within, and Hadrian stepped into her, wrapping an arm around her.
“To Hadrian and Sydney. Congratulations. May your new endeavors bring you all that you brought this family,” Michel said.
Hadrian burs
t out laughing.
“Now that’s not fair, cursing him like that,” Elizabeth said. Then she glanced at Sydney. “He did the same to me.”
“Felicitations!” everyone called out.
Sydney laughed as she brought her glass of juice to her lips, taking a sip. Hadrian drank his own glass down, then took Sydney’s glass out of her hands, and pulled her into his arms.
“Told you,” he said.
“So you did,” Sydney replied. And he kissed her, this time, most soundly, right in front of anyone.
The children, who’d been playing and pretty much ignoring the adults, looked up long enough to moan how gross that was.
Chapter Thirty
“You are still sleeping?” came a woman’s voice in my room, accompanying the sound of the drapes being thrown open. I was blasted with far too much sunlight at this ungodly hour. The only pleasant sight was my husband lying next to me. Or it would have been, were we not so rudely woken up.
“Christ,” Hadrian muttered, sitting up.
“Hadrian Drake!” came the queen’s voice. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
The façade that Hadrian and I weren’t married seemed to be fooling the staff. Sort of. I had a pretty good idea that the maids knew. Hadrian’s room and mine had an adjoining door in the bathroom, connecting the suites.
It was locked every night by one of the servants. And then I went and unlocked it.
Hadrian sat up. At least last night, he’d put on boxer briefs before falling asleep. The first time the queen burst in on us, we both were naked.
Awkward.
“Forgive me, Majesty,” Hadrian said with so much sarcasm, it was quite funny. I have learned that he doesn’t rise early very well.
And the royal family were all early risers.
Well, except for Lindsey. She was a force unto herself. As the baby of the family, she’d only been twelve when her parents died. And she was treated like a baby—she got to do a lot of things that the others didn’t. The only thing missing was a house in the States for her. She’d had the British education, with summers around the world digging things up.
Of all of them, I liked Lindsey the best. She was her own person, damn the crown.
I admired that.
“Get out of here,” the queen said.
Hadrian hobbled out of the room, scratching his hip as he left, but he did kiss me on the head before his undignified exit.
I sat up, wearing my jammy shorts and tank top. I didn’t really want to see my hair. Now that it was grown out a bit more, it tended to do strange and creative things in the morning, only to be tamed by a blow dryer and brush now that it had grown out a bit.
“We have a busy day,” the queen said. “You really should start setting your alarm clock.”
“I’m sorry, Majesty.”
She made a motion with her hand. “Go, take a shower, and be downstairs in thirty minutes. We have an appointment with the tailor and the hairstylist today.”
I nodded. Great. More people to make plans without me.
I took my shower and cleaned up in record speed, slipping into a plain white button-down top, but when I pulled on my skirt, it was a little snug. I realized my bump was getting bigger by the day. I instead tried for a different one, and this one I was able to fasten, thank goodness.
A pair of flats, a blast of the blow dryer and a quick shot of makeup, I was downstairs in minutes. Scooping up some food from the dining room, I headed to find the queen.
This had been my days the last two weeks. Every morning there were things to be done. It was such a whirlwind I hardly registered anything.
I think my wedding colors are dark purple and light green—same as the colors in the Koros flag.
I fainted last week when the florist told the queen the cost of the flowers alone would be more than my annual salary last year. After that, money hadn’t been mentioned in front of me again.
After the butler had taken me to the queen, I was accosted by tailors and seamstresses attacking me with pins and needles.
I made it through the fitting—covered in fabric, draped like I wasn’t even there. The queen and the tailor discussed a thousand different things, most of which I didn’t understand. They flipped back and forth between conversations in other languages and English. And when they did discuss in English, I barely understood the terms anyway.
And then she took me to the hairdresser.
I sat in a hydraulic chair while a man walked around me, scissors in his hand, tapping his lip, muttering in Italian, I thought.
“Turn head,” he said in very broken English.
I twisted my head.
He shook his head. “Like this,” he said, and shook his head.
I did as I was told, not sure how I felt about this particular consultation.
The queen watched as he muttered different things. She looked as though she was analyzing exactly what they were saying. She answered him with a few comments, and he nodded, agreeing.
His assistants came over, one started running her fingers through my head. “Dull.” That word, I understood.
“What color before?”
I blinked. “On my hair?” I reached up and caressed a strand. “Blue.”
The hairstylist’s eyes went wide. “Blue?” He rattled something off to the queen.
She nodded in approval.
“Color, needs dimension.”
Well, that I agreed with. “It was bleached out, then died blue,” I told him, the assistant pulling on a strand. I jerked away as she snagged.
“Sorry,” came the woman’s voice.
They spoke more, in rapid tones, and the queen was nodding. The assistant went to her suitcase and started pulling out tubes of color.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
“Adding dimension, and a splash of color,” the queen said. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“As long as it’s not orange,” I said.
And they got to work.
While they transformed my hair, the queen had someone bring in several dresses.
“What’re these for?” I asked.
“The engagement ball tonight.”
I remembered that the queen had said something about that yesterday. “Oh right.” I winced as someone snagged my hand. I was getting manicured and my toes done as well. I don’t care what anyone says, having a team working on you at once is quite overwhelming.
A lady kept coming at me with tweezers, and I was about to punch her if she tweezed another hair out of my eyebrows. There couldn’t be anything left by now.
“Do you have a preference?” the queen asked. The dresses were jewel toned, all of them vivid, classic colors.
Except one. “What’s that one there,” I asked, prying my hands from a manicurist to point at the edge of the dress on the end of the rack.
“This one?” the queen asked, pulling out the dress.
My eyes went wide. “Yes.” It was perfect—bold, bright pink, and a little less conventional than any of the other dresses, with a single shoulder strap, A-line hemline, with a huge bunch of multi-colored fabrics bursting out the bottom.
The queen smiled. “I see we have a winner.” She glanced at the servant. “Make sure, Tola, to get shoes that match.” She handed the woman the dress and the servant smiled, heading out the door.
The queen left, assuming I was in good hands, to be plucked, poked and generally beautified to within an inch of my life.
I found Hadrian after the hairstyling out in the garden behind the palace, having a cigarette.
The smell that I used to crave now smelled stinky. Though I’d love to have one.
I needed to relax.
“Syd,” he said, his eyes wide. “Your hair.”
I reached up and stroked my head, where the hair had been cut off at my neckline, transforming my growing out shaggy haircut into something resembling a bob. A bob with icy blonde, black, and red streaks in it, blending together to create an amazing shimmer aff
ect. It was quite eye-catching.
I had been surprised. I had no idea how they’d done it. The products they used must be way different than what I had in the States.
“Your aunt has been torturing me for the day.”
He smiled. “I like it,” he said, snuffing out his cigarette, and running his hands down the front. “This angle,” he said, stroking my long bangs, “makes you look quite sexy.” He kissed me.
And I felt better.
Much better. I sighed against him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you,” I said as he guided me to the bench where he’d been sitting.
When we got settled, Hadrian wrapped his arm around me. “I hope you’re feeling okay. The queen can be quite overbearing.”
“I have a whole new respect for the client experience.”
He smirked. “How’s the baby?”
I shrugged. “Getting bigger,” I said, stroking my stomach. “Though I don’t seem to be getting as sick as often.”
“Good,” Hadrian said, then he glanced around, like he expected to see someone. His brow furrowed for a moment. “Do you need anything? Food? Something to drink?”
“I’m good,” I said. “Though later I might be persuaded to get a nice long massage.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “That could most certainly be arranged.” He leaned in, nuzzling my neck. “The kind that involves chocolate?”
I purred. “Sex and chocolate. How can I go wrong?” I brought his chin up to mine and we kissed, our tongues dancing around each other, a dance we’d become so familiar with. His hand slid up my side, caressing the bottom of my breast.
And I knew exactly where this was going. And I was happy about it. “Hadrian,” I moaned as I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tighter against me.
“Seriously, brother, do you need a chaperone?” came a female voice.
We snapped apart, and faced Lindsey. She smiled at the two of us, but there was strain in her eyes. Something was on her mind.
“What’s wrong?” Hadrian asked, evidently seeing the same thing I was seeing.
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