Hand-Me-Down Princess

by Carol Moncado

  As he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the doorway, Malachi realized he had yet to see the face of his bride.

  Chapter 2

  Jessabelle followed Prince Malachi’s lead into the room behind the stage. Her hair hung even more disheveled than usual after he removed the clip holding it back instead of the comb holding her veil. Someone grabbed her new husband’s arm and attention as soon as the door closed behind them. Someone else led her to a chair and sat her down doing something to her hair, pulling it back up in another clip. The crown he’d placed there was secured somehow.

  In making her plans for wedding attire, Jessabelle had forgotten about the crowning portion of the ceremony. Or perhaps she’d never known. She’d never seen a royal Mevendian wedding, never paid much attention, despite her father’s connection to King Antonio. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she remembered the weddings of her new husband’s uncles, but she hadn’t watched them. In her meeting with some of the palace officials, they’d gone over what would happen and gave her an outline to read over, including the script.

  She hadn’t looked at it.

  Maybe she should have.

  Then she could have protested the fact that she was promising everything to the prince while he offered very little in return. Did that bother him? That, technically, according to his vows, he could cheat on her to his heart’s content?

  “You need to sign right here.” An official set an official parchment in front of her. On the other side, her new husband had already scrawled his impossibly long name.

  She looked up at the official. “Do I sign with Keller?”

  “You will use your full name and add Van Rensselaer, Princess of Mevendia to the end.”

  Jessabelle took great care adding the unfamiliar end to her name. The king would add his seal at the end of the ceremony, making it officially official. Another woman fussed over her hair and face. Again.

  All too soon, the time came for her to slide her hand into Prince Malachi’s elbow. He still spoke with the man on his other side. The doors opened, and they emerged to sounds of applause. The bishop took the parchment from Prince Malachi’s hand, holding it triumphantly in the air. At least they no longer required proof of consummation and her innocence, Jessabelle thought wryly. She did her best to fix a happy smile on her face as the king took his place on the stage, affixing his seal to the parchment.

  The king stood to the side as Prince Malachi led her forward. The bishop bellowed again. If he didn’t chill, he’d have a heart attack soon. “Your Majesty, members of the royal family, honored guests, people of Mevendia, I give you for the first time, Prince Malachi Jedidiah Richard Louis Van Rensselaer of Mevendia and his bride, Princess Jessabelle Grace!”

  The assembled masses stood and applauded, loudly, but there were no whoops and hollers. The prince took two steps then turned to help her down the stairs. Jessabelle took each one carefully, still not having looked directly at her husband. It took every effort to plaster on a smile, but Jessabelle did so to the best of her ability. The aisle stretched into eternity, but it passed more quickly than she expected.

  The horse-drawn carriage waited for them outside the cathedral. Prince Malachi stopped just shy of it and helped her up the steps. Could she bring herself to ask him the question she had? Or rather the first question? She had many. Some probably would have been answered in the paperwork she never looked at.

  “Are you comfortable?” The voice whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

  Jessabelle nodded and forced the words past the lump in her throat. “May I ask a question, Your Highness?”

  “Of course.” Did his tone border on friendly?

  “What happens next?” She stared at her hands as they twisted in her dress. Another hand, this one large, tan, obviously male, and sporting a gold band, covered hers, stilling the motion.

  “Didn’t anyone give you the schedule for today?”

  She nodded without looking up. “I didn’t look at any of it.”

  “Why not?” She didn’t hear judgment, just curiosity.

  “Because then it would be real,” she blurted out. “If I didn’t look through the information they gave me, I could pretend today wouldn’t come.”

  * * *

  Malachi wasn’t sure what to make of her words. It was clear, however, they’d have to sit down and have a long conversation sooner rather than later. At least the laws regarding verification of consummation no longer existed. He’d told his father in no uncertain terms there wouldn’t be anything of that nature. He probably should have stood up more regarding the ceremony but those were legalities. This was customary. He’d whisk his bride away from the palace for a couple weeks if his father pressed the issue again.

  But the woman at his side was still waiting for his answer. He waved to the crowds as he leaned over to talk to her. “We are headed toward the palace. There will be a few minutes on the balcony waving to those assembled in the courtyard. Since I am not the Crown Prince, there is no expectation of a first kiss. There will be some pictures and the luncheon will start not long after. You may or may not be happy to know that we are not required to sit together. We can request to, but since this is our first meeting, whichever makes you more comfortable. Tradition would have us separate - you with my family and me with yours.”

  She shook her head. “No. I have only my father left.” Right. He knew that. “I would prefer to be together near him if at all possible.”

  “I will make sure of it.” More waving as they turned the corner. Her hands had relaxed enough that he moved his just a bit. “Can you smile and wave?”

  He felt as much as saw her take a deep breath. She lifted a hand to wave. “After the luncheon, you and I will have several hours to tour the palace, introduce you to the staff, and so on. However, if you would prefer to rest, that can be arranged. Let me know by the end of the luncheon.”

  She nodded.

  “However, after the luncheon, we will be essentially alone together. Once we finish the tour, we will retire to my apartment to change. Our apartment, that is. Dinner will be served in one of the honeymoon suites at the palace. Our honeymoon plans have not been made yet. I have two weeks before I must return to my duties. We can spend those weeks here, at another residence, or elsewhere if there is somewhere you would like to go. Even if we stay here, though, we are not expected to interact with the rest of the family.”

  “What would your choice be?”

  How often did he have an actual choice? Seldom. “I would prefer to go to the mountain residence, I think. Only a few staffers, no family, remote, and comfortable. But you are the one doing most of the adapting to this situation. Please be honest about your preference. If you would like to go somewhere not owned by the family, I do need to know soon, however, so arrangements can be made.”

  She nodded as the carriage turned up the steep hill going through the gates leading to the palace. “The mountain residence will be fine.”

  Did she say that simply to acquiesce to him or was it her favorite place to be or some other reason? “Have you ever been to that part of the country?”

  “No. I have always wanted to, but my father has been ill for many years. We haven’t gone many places since my mother died when I was young.”

  In two sentences, he knew significantly more about his wife than he had before. And he still hadn’t gotten a good look at her. The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the main entrance to the palace. The door to the carriage was opened by someone he recognized but couldn’t name. Malachi knew the staff in the areas of the palace where he spent most of his time, but not this gentleman. He nodded his thanks and turned to help Jessabelle. For the first time, he got a good look at her.

  She likely wouldn’t have attracted his attention if they’d simply been in the same room. Somewhat on the plain side perhaps, but her dark eyes held his attention. They were a bit more bloodshot and red-rimmed than he wished his bride’s eyes would be on the
ir wedding day, but the tremulous smile spoke of her bravery.

  He tucked her hand inside his elbow and started up the stairs. “Would you like a few minutes to freshen up?” She flinched, and he hoped he hadn’t inadvertently insulted her. “Or just a few minutes to relax before we have to go to the balcony?”

  “Can’t we do it now and get it over with?” Malachi didn’t think he was supposed to hear the question but he did.

  “I’m sorry, but no. In about two hours we’ll essentially be done with the crowds for the day.” The ginormous doors to the palace opened in front of them, all part of the pageantry of the day. Once they closed, however, there was a few moments’ reprieve, alone in the large entry. “The rest of the family will be here soon. You’ve met all of them, right?” He led her to a powder room off the entry. “Would you like me to call someone to help you?”

  She sank onto a small couch letting go of his arm and shook her head.

  “No, you’ve not met all of my family or no, you wouldn’t like me to call someone to help you freshen up?”

  Jessabelle stared at her hands again. “Both. Well, I met most of them once many years ago, but just in a line with a lot of other people. I think you were there, too, but you wouldn’t remember.”

  Malachi dropped to one knee in front of her. “You mean you’ve never really met my father? Not during the process of negotiating this? Or my brother when you two were a potential match?”

  “No. My father handled all of it.”

  The feeling of dread took up residence deep inside. “Did he even ask if this was what you wanted? I thought it odd you didn’t want to meet, but my father insisted.”

  She still didn’t make eye contact with him. “What I wanted never entered my father’s mind. He wanted to see me well taken care of before he dies. I don’t suppose it mattered to him if it was you or your brother or someone I chose as long as he didn’t worry about me.”

  “Was there someone else you would have preferred?”

  “No. I’m only nineteen. I haven’t been on many dates.”

  She was younger than he realized. Not much younger than he, but how did he not know she was still a teenager? “And that’s why the wedding took place so quickly?”

  Another nod. “He doesn’t believe he has long left.”

  “Does he?”

  “It’s unlikely. The doctor’s aren’t optimistic.”

  So she’d had even less choice in the matter than he had. Interesting. And it explained the tension radiating from her.

  Voices could be heard in the other room just before a light knock sounded on the door. “Come!” Malachi called, knowing he had no choice.

  His sister’s assistant and stylist entered holding a large bag. They would work with his new wife until she hired ones of her own. “The king is looking for you, sir. I’ll help the princess freshen up.”

  Malachi reached out and squeezed Jessabelle’s folded hands. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  She gave the barest of nods and his heart ached for her. He’d have to remember how sudden this was for her, even more so than for him. He walked back into the entry, now filled with members of his family and extended family. His sword slapped against his side as he strode toward his father. King or not, they were going to have words.

  “How could you?” he whispered fiercely so no one else would hear.

  His father crossed his arms in front of his chest. “How could I what?”

  “Arrange a marriage contract with a girl who didn’t want it.”

  “Her opinion was not my concern. Her father, one of my oldest friends, who is dying, asked me to honor an agreement from our childhood. In exchange for saving his life, one of my sons would marry one of his daughters. He only has one child. Your wife. I have two sons. I chose you to marry her.”

  “No, you didn’t. William refused.”

  His father’s eyes took on a gleam. “If I had insisted he would have done as he was told. However, for many reasons, I decided you were a better match for the girl anyway.” He waved a hand. “It is too late now, regardless. You’ve said your vows and given her your ring, a crown, and your name.”

  “We’ll talk about the farce of those vows later,” Malachi promised.

  “I can’t change the vows any more than you can.”

  “You could have. I can’t believe Mother agreed to them.”

  “She had as much choice as any of us in the royal family.” The king glanced at someone behind Malachi. “We can discuss it after your honeymoon if you’d like, but you need to go find your bride. It’s time for the balcony.”

  Malachi tamped down his desire to get into it with his dad. It wasn’t the time or the place or the fight to have at this point. It was too late. He and Jessabelle were legally married. With a final glare at his father, he turned to see Jessabelle emerging from the powder room. The assistant had done something magical, covering up the redness and giving her a healthy glow.

  He stretched a hand toward her, willing her to take it. She did, albeit hesitantly. Malachi bowed until he could kiss the back of it. “You look lovely.” Maybe not entirely accurate. She would likely never be a great beauty, but she did look nice. “Are you ready?”

  “Can I say no?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “Then I have no choice.” Her hand rested on her stomach as she took a deep breath.

  “Are you all right?” Malachi took a step closer and rested his hand on her back.

  “I’m feeling a bit nauseated. I don’t do crowds. I can’t believe I made it this long.” She clamped her mouth shut as though she’d said too much.

  “Is that why you weren’t at the press gathering?”

  She nodded.

  “I won’t leave your side unless I absolutely have to until it’s all over.” It was the least he could do. This evening they’d have to have a long talk. In fact...an idea occurred to him. He’d have to go around his father, but Malachi no longer cared. He needed to take care of his bride as best he could under the circumstances. After one more squeeze of her hand, he tucked it into his elbow.

  Chapter 3

  Jessabelle struggled to maintain her composure. It seemed that Prince Malachi cared about her comfort. A little bit at least. She couldn’t believe how much she’d said to him already. She didn’t talk to men. Ever. Not unless there was absolutely no way to avoid it. The two of them led the small procession through unfamiliar halls. Built into the side of the hill, Jessabelle knew little about the palace and couldn’t take it all in. She knew the lower two floors of windows visible from town hill housed staff. There were multiple apartments for members of the royal family plus all of the formal areas, offices, and who knew what else. She also knew there was a balcony in the massive central courtyard.

  Trumpets blared as those doors opened in front of her. The blast of cold air caught her off guard, though it shouldn’t have. She and Prince Malachi came to a stop about a foot from the stone railing. The large courtyard was filled to capacity. The prince began to wave with his other hand before he leaned over to whisper to her.

  “You’re doing great. Smile and wave, and we’ll be done in a minute.”

  Jessabelle put on the best smile she could manage as the rest of the royal family stood around them. It only took a few seconds for her to begin to shiver. She hated the cold. Always had. Prince Malachi dropped her hand but before she could figure out why, he wrapped his uniform coat around her shoulders.

  “Slip your arms in.”

  She did as he said, the remnants of his body heat warming her. He stood behind her, one arm wrapping around her middle as the other waved. Jessabelle did her best to keep her smile in place as she waved. Had she realized how tall the prince was? Likely not as he was several inches shorter than the Crown Prince, but still over six foot.

  “You’re doing great,” he whispered again.

  For the next few minutes, they both ignored the calls for a kiss. But then she felt him press one against the side of her he
ad.

  “That’s all they’re going to get.” His arm slipped from around her, but his wave got bigger. “Let’s go.”

  Jessabelle turned, short-lived relief flooding through her. Prince Malachi wrapped his supportive arm around her waist as they walked back into the palace. As soon as the doors closed behind the rest of the group, she slipped off the coat. Goosebumps remained on her arms as Prince Malachi wrapped it around her shoulders again.

  “Keep it for now. Give it back when we get ready for pictures.” He kept his arm around her waist as he led her through several rooms and hallways. So overwhelming. She’d never remember how to get around.

  Then they entered the throne room. How many girls got their wedding pictures taken in a throne room? Jessabelle would gladly have foregone the honor.

  The next hour was both mind-numbingly tedious and completely fear inducing. She managed to insult the king, though Jessabelle still wasn’t certain how she’d done that. Only one member of the family took time out to talk with her.

  “Welcome to the family, darling.” Jessabelle couldn’t place the tiny woman in front of her. At least an inch under five feet tall, she was the opposite of the man strolling up behind her.

  Prince Malachi bent to kiss her cheek. “Nana Yvette, I see you have met my bride.”

  “We are just getting acquainted, dear Kai.”

  “Kai?” The question popped out before Jessabelle could stop it.

  Prince Malachi kept his arm wrapped around the small woman’s waist. “My great-grandmother is the only one in the family not to shorten Malachi to Mal.”

  Yvette - what was her title these days anyway? Since she wasn’t queen anymore - held out both hands to Jessabelle. “You will have to come by to see me after you return from your honeymoon. I want to have a chance to talk without being interrupted.”