Royally Duched Up: (Duched #3)

by Xavier Neal

My sister’s loud laugh echoes throughout the room forcing me to give Kristal a sarcastic look.

  “I swear.” Her smirk remains. “Just trust me on this. Once we find something you fall in love with, I’ll play the rest of the crew like a fiddle.” She motions her hand at the selection. “What style preference do you have?”

  “I honestly don’t know the difference.”

  Kristal gives me a polite nod and proceeds to explain the different cuts while showcasing the latest designs for each. She makes a point to remind me, which of my wedding party wanted which, and I find myself not too excited about any of them. Sensing my hesitation about their choices, Kristal continues, showing off examples of something she refers to as a sheath style. The cut reminds me of some of the evening gowns I’ve worn to charity events and balls. My face frowns further as I decide to stay away from the style to avoid looking like I’m dressed for just another everyday party.

  This not an everyday occasion. I plan to do this once. Only. Once.

  “Your lack of enthusiasm is telling me one very important thing.”

  “That I should get married in jeans and my favorite hoodie?”

  She smirks and tilts her head at me. “Did you ever wanna feel like Cinderella when you were little? Maybe not the whole scrub the floors, have talking mice part, but the dress. The big, fluffy, twirl around the room while it literally sparkles, dress.”

  Okay…maybe for like a minute…

  Kristal instantly notices my change of disposition and her grin becomes that of victory. “Look, I know for most women their wedding day is a day to be a princess. However, I also know in your case you are actually going to be a real princess of a country and that fact probably overshadows the inner desire to fulfill the urge to want to in deed look like one on your wedding day. But here’s the thing. It’s totally okay,” she encourages. “Look like your fairy tale. Become your own fairy tale…”

  Become my own fairy tale? Isn’t that exactly what I’ve spent this past year doing? Creating a new kind of once upon a time where princesses can wear sneakers, graduate from college, and give the prince a run for his money rather than just falling all over themselves for him? Kellan and I have always written our own story. Toyed with traditions and commanded we’re comfortable with where we go in life. Kristal’s right. My wedding day shouldn’t be an exception to that. It should be a demonstration of it. I’m ready to find my dream dress and more importantly…I’m ready to start my happily ever after.

  Brie

  “Mom, you have to stop crying. I know it says waterproof makeup, but it doesn’t expect you to test that theory!” Candice fusses from the black couch in the main area of the bridal suite.

  “I can’t….” her words get caught between cries. “I can’t…” My eyes glance her direction through the open doorway where she’s beaming at me. “I just can’t stop…”

  All morning it’s been like Sob Fest: The Next Generation. From the moment I woke up, she’s been cycling through fits of tears. Not even sure how one person has that much fluid left in their body to continue to cry at this point. I know it’s the whole watching one of your children get married thing, but I can barely hold myself together. I don’t have the energy to do her too.

  “Brie’s almost done here,” Soph announces from her position beside my sister. “Candice why don’t you take your mother to find your father and see if he’s ready? Perhaps check on the groom? If I know Kellan, which I do, there’s a high chance he’ll need to be reminded to wrap up his primping in a timely fashion.”

  Candice hums, wiggles her foot into her shimmery silver pump, and stands. “That’s a wonderful idea, Sophia. Why don’t we go do that mom and get you some fresh air?”

  My mother swipes away her latest tears. “Are you sure we should leave Brie? She-”

  “I’m fine,” I quickly insist as another flash from over my right shoulder goes off. “Blinded…but fine. It’s just my dress left.”

  “Don’t you need me to tie it?” her voice cracks.

  And use the string like a tissue? No thank you.

  “I’ll tie it,” Soph volunteers swiftly. “It’ll let me actually feel useful.” She gently pats her stomach with a smirk. “I haven’t been able to contribute much.”

  She has mastered the art of playing the pregnancy card. At rehearsal dinner last night, she ended the argument about who should pay for the meal with a simple comment about having missed my birthday and bachelorette party and being eager to contribute to the festivities since this was the first one she was able to attend. The women around the table cooed and Kristopher immediately picked up the check to appease his possibly upset wife. It was impressive to watch and had she not given me a wink to let me know exactly what she was doing, I would’ve fallen for her woe as me line too. The woman’s a genius. Definitely queen of a country material….unlike me. Who can barely wrap her mind around being a duchess let alone a princess. Oh my God. In less than an hour I’m going to be…I’m going to be…

  I place a hand on my rapidly beating heart. The photographer snaps another photo of me, and I feel my face starting to cringe.

  The makeup artists commands, “Relax your face.”

  Easy for her to say. She’s not about to become a princess of a foreign country. A symbol. An icon for a new generation. Oh….the pressure….

  The air in the room suddenly seems to be dissipating. I try to hide my inability to breathe once more, but my chest constricts tighter.

  I can’t breathe…

  “You tying is a lovely idea, Sophia. We will check on the rest of the family,” my mother speaks up, now completely composed again.

  The photographer prepares to take my picture again when Soph suggests, “Why don’t you come in here and take a couple more of her mother and sister, before they leave?”

  She doesn’t hesitate to take the instructions given. The delivery of the statement may have appeared as a casually offered idea, but in reality, it was a demand given without room for question.

  See what I mean. She’s cut out to be a Kenningston. What if I’m not? What if…what if people never take me seriously when I stand on my own away from Kellan in Doctenn? What if they return to snubbing me or wishing to banish me back to my own country? What if I become an embarrassment in history to them? What if I become a black mark they don’t even talk about? Racial joke slightly intended.

  “We will apply your lipstick after your dress is on,” the woman says peering at my reflection. “We don’t want to risk it rubbing off.”

  I nod my understanding.

  “I’ll collect my things once you’re headed to the wedding.”

  “Thank you,” I quietly state.

  Seconds later the sound of a door shutting echoes throughout the hotel suite and the panic sets back in.

  What if Kellan’s changed his mind? What if this isn’t what he truly wants? What if he wants something that’s easier and doesn’t propose any sort of threat to the future of his organizations? I know we’ve gotten to a better place with all of that, but what happens if race becomes the issue all over again? What if by choosing me as his future, it destroys all the other things he wanted for it?

  “Jovi,” Soph’s voice interrupts the run-away train of thought. “Do you mind checking on a few of the details with the wedding planner? Just verifying everything is on schedule?”

  “Sure!” Jovi says with elation in her voice.

  That sound should be in mine…

  She leans over so her face momentarily appears in the doorway. “If you need anything while I’m out just text me.” Her hand dangles the device. “Pretty sure I can sneak you a snack if you need it.”

  I make a genuine attempt to smile. “I’m good…”

  During my bachelorette party she took it upon herself to be the one to insure I ate enough to balance the rapid rate we were downing beer. Rather than have anything too wild or fly off to Vegas, which Kellan and I both swore to Kenneth we wouldn’t do, Kellan paid to have the event roo
m of our first date rented out and decorated to a casino theme. None of the games were for actual cash and most were an alcoholic version of the real ones, but it was still a blast. A few acquaintances from college came along with most of my bridal party. We partied far too late and having a rented suite for us to crash in was definitely a wise idea. As were the greasy tacos she had me stuffing in my mouth at 2 a.m. A week later for my birthday Kellan rented out Balloon Bust for a few of us and then took us to this burger bar place I had never even heard of. You get to watch every step of the process from grilling to them adding the toppings. Then they have this insane fry station where any type of fry you can think of can be ordered and topped with ingredients. After you’ve essentially eaten your weight in food and drank it in an array of expensive beers, they have an ice cream area that works just as on demand as the other two. How I’ve lived in this city all my life and never been to the place is a mind scratcher. I overstuffed myself to the point I swore I’d never eat again. I actually haven’t eaten more than salad since the day after that, which was fine for the first 48 hours but now has begun to feel like I’m being made to suffer out of spite. Don’t worry. I’ll survive….or die of starvation and not have to worry about being a runaway bride. Did you ever see that movie?

  “Why don’t you take a break from snapping photos?” Soph sweetly hums. “Perhaps step outside and check the ones you’ve gotten?”

  Which should be an ass load. Every moment of this day since I woke up in my old bed at my parent’s house has been thoroughly documented thanks to the photographer hired to follow each of us around like a personal paparazzi. Of course, Kellan is handling the attention better than I am. He’s gleefully posted on IG twice. The first time it was a picture of his coffee with the caption ‘last cup as a bachelor’ and the second was a photo of his hand with the hashtag ‘ready for my ring’. His excitement relieved the immediate restlessness I woke up with it, but as the day has gone on, it has steadily built itself back up.

  My best friend disappears along with the makeup artist and photographer leaving me alone with my future sister in law. To my surprise, she stands up, allowing her loose fitted, sleeveless, cobalt blue gown to gracefully fall to her silver flat covered feet, and strolls towards the open doorway.

  “You’ve got the jitters,” she announces sweetly.

  I attempt to stop rubbing the ache in my chest. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Yes.” Soph offers me a bright smile. “But they are normal on your wedding day. It’s a huge step in a new direction. Now, are your nerves about spending the rest of your life with Kellan or are you nervous about your pending status?”

  There’s isn’t a part of me that can imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. I knew that the moment I let him go and assumed we’d never be together again. I look forward to our life together. Him pouting at new art exhibits, me gagging on odd entrees, and both of us arguing over the latest Doctor Who episodes….Those thoughts are the ones that seem to still my nerves for moments. It’s the latter that gets them all riled up again.

  Quietly, I confess, “I don’t think I’m going to be a good Princess or…Duchess for that matter. Sure, we’ve made some waves and changes these past few months, but what if they don’t stick? What if the people of your country start to hate me again? Demand for traditions or Kellan to marry someone they approve of? What if by making us official we go through the funding nightmare again or something much worse I can’t even predict?”

  Soph tilts her at me in a comforting way. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone else.”

  I spin myself around in the vanity chair to give her my full attention.

  “I almost didn’t marry Kristopher for the same reasons.”

  The information lurches my eyebrows into the air. “What!”

  She lifts a hand to calm my outburst. “It was our wedding day. I hadn’t slept in what felt like months. It was this moment, this one right here, except I was already in my gown. Everyone had stepped away to give me a moment before we were to begin. It was the first time I had had a second to breathe. And suddenly as I did, I began to realize this was the rest of my life! This was how it was going to be! From that moment until I die because of who Kristopher was, I would never be alone. I would never have privacy. I would always be confined to rules and regulations and mind boggling traditions. Keep in mind this was when Kenneth was determined to keep all of those things. It had finally set in that if I walked down the aisle, if I said ‘I do’, signed the papers, I would be giving up much more than my last name. I’d be giving up my freedom.”

  This story isn’t helping…

  “I was about to start plotting the best way to escape when there was a knock at the door…It was Kellan. I reluctantly let him in. He took one look at me, smiled, and said if I was going to run away, he’d more than willingly run a distraction while I took the back exit.”

  “Sounds like him.”

  “Right?” She snickers. “I laughed, feeling the first relief I had all day. Shortly after, I was furious. I yelled and stomped and chewed him out for even suggesting such a thing. I was marrying his brother, the last thing he should do is ruin that. And then…and then Kellan said something to me that I needed to hear.”

  Her pause causes me to lean closer in desperation for more.

  “He told me that if I didn’t want to marry Kristopher then he was saving his brother from a lifetime of misery. That if I didn’t believe I loved him enough to endure the future then it would be better for me to leave now than fill him with hope and drag us both to a dark place we would hate. Kellan calmly reminded me life is shorter than most people care to admit to themselves and he would rather his brother be beside himself for a few months than waste his life in a loveless marriage. He told me, I shouldn’t give a shit about the hundreds of people waiting for us to be wed or the country that loves to criticize. The only thing I should be worried about is whether or not for the next fifty or sixty years that’s who I wanted at my side. Because things change. Because environments change. Because moods change. All of those are irrelevant in relation to who it is you want to make the journey with.”

  My jaw helplessly creeks open.

  “I know…very profound for someone who once refused to sleep with a woman because she insulted the strings on his shoes…”

  Seriously?

  “But he was right. All that mattered was who I wanted to spend my days with. It shouldn’t matter where we were or where we were going or what we were going to have to do…All that should’ve mattered was that we were together.” Another sweet smirk crosses her face. “So, with that story told…I have something for you.”

  Curiosity crooks an eyebrow.

  Soph takes a step out of my sight, ruffles around something, and returns with a large silver gift box. She extends it to me with mischief in her eyes. “From your groom.”

  “Oh my God was I supposed to buy him a wedding present?”

  Ugh. Am I failing at this bride thing or what?

  She giggles and shakes her head. “No. He just wanted to make sure to add a little something special to your day.”

  I take the object but give her a sarcastic expression. “You mean the day he planned entirely? You mean the wedding of my dreams that all I had to do was pick out a dress, write vows, and show up for? How could it possibly get more special?”

  “You’ll see.” An all knowing look graces her face. “I’m going to give you a minute to open it alone and if you decide your fears are stronger than your love for him I’ll help you escape out the emergency exit. But if you decide your love is stronger than anything else, just pop your head out when you’re ready to wiggle into your dress.”

  Soph doesn’t linger around for my response.

  Once I’m completely alone, I push the makeup on the vanity counter to the side, and remove the envelope attached to it. I quickly pull out the note written on cream colored paper. A smile slips onto my face at the sight of his alarmi
ngly fancy handwriting for a guy.

  Does this not look like the first draft of the constitution?

  Love,

  Happy Wedding Day! By this point in the afternoon you are probably running on fumes and desperate for the bacon appetizers being served in just a couple hours. However, I wanted you to know I understand if you change your mind. I know our life ahead isn’t going to be easy. Hell, it’s going to be absolutely terrifying at times. Frustrating at others. There’s a high probability you’re going to debate if marrying me was the right thing to do. I just hope the answer will be yes. For me…I know it will, because I’ll never forget the days I had to lead a life without you. I never want to repeat it.

  Inside this box are two gentle reminders that if you meet me at the end of the aisle like I am imagining, no matter what is waiting for us on the other side of I do…we will always live our life our way.

  I love you.