by Tara Wylde
Our giggles echo through the huge granite hallway as we join arms and head out into the palace.
Chapter 78
33. DANTE
“The first payment has been arranged, sir,” Carlo says. “The annuity will be deposited in Mr. Sparks’ account in the morning.”
The sun is warm on my face as I smell the herbs that grow in a special box channel near the main courtyard of the south garden. It’s one of the rare occasions when Carlo’s ever joined me outside of the palace. Our relationship over the past twenty years has taken place almost entirely in offices.
“What does it work out to with exchange?” I ask.
“Approximately $2.4 million US at today’s rate, though it’s expected to rise slightly by wedding day.”
Amanda wasn’t specific as to how much her father’s operation was in debt, but I’m sure a lump sum payment of this magnitude should go a long way to easing her and Ike’s minds.
Carlo sidles up to me, leaning his tall frame forward to get a whiff of the herbs himself. Basil, rosemary, sage, lavender: it all combines into a heady scent that I’ve loved since I was a child.
I wanted to get some private time in the gardens before they’re overrun with people tomorrow.
“What do you think of Amanda’s idea for the gardens tomorrow?” I ask. “Are we risking too much? Is it better just to play it safe?”
“I think your father would be very proud of you, sir,” Carlo says. “And he would have loved the idea. He valued people over possessions, more than any nobleman I’ve ever met before or since. Except for you.”
“Thank you, Carlo. Coming from you, that means a great deal.”
“If that’s all, sir, I’ll retire to my office. I’ve tarried in the gardens long enough.”
“You really need to get out of your office more, my friend.”
“Some day,” he says with a smile. “But not today. Ciao.”
He strides off down the path from the courtyard to the entrance to the palace. As I watch him go, it occurs to me yet again that Carlo has sacrificed a family of his own to help keep mine from flying off the rails. In many ways, he’s more my family than Isabella ever was.
“He’s got us! Help, he’s got us!”
I turn to see Ike ambling towards me, carrying a twin under each beefy arm. He’s back in his usual clothes today: a short-sleeved blue plaid shirt and jeans.
“You should keep better track of your calves,” he says, plopping the giggling duo on the grass next to us. “I caught these two tryin’ to jump the fence.”
Vito jumps into my lap. “Uncle! Mr. Sparks says he’s going to take us to his ranch in Montana! Can we go?”
Ike shades his eyes and scans the gardens. “Where’s that Mr. Sparks?” he says. “I don’t see ‘im anywhere.”
“We’re supposed to call him Ike,” says Oriana. “Pay attention, Vito.”
Vito sticks his tongue out at her, so, of course, she sticks hers out at him.
Ike looks down at them. “You two need a salt lick?”
“What’s a salt lick?” asks Vito.
Ike sighs. “You got a lot to learn if you’re gonna be cowboys.” He tilts his head towards Oriana. “Pardon me, ma’am, I meant cowpersons.”
I smile down at the twins. “And what are you going to see when you’re there?”
Oriana starts ticking off items on her fingers.
“Disneyland, the Statue of Liberty, the Grand Canyon, the Rocky Mountains…”
Ike holds up his hands in surrender.
“Whoa, there, girl, that’s a lot to see. America’s a big country.”
“How big?” asks Vito.
“California alone is over 100,000 times bigger than Morova,” I say.
Vito’s eyes pop. I never really gave much thought to how isolated they’ve been here. They’ve traveled on the continent a few times, but most of their lives have been spent right here on this island.
I always thought it was good enough for me, so it was good enough for them. Now I’m beginning to discover a whole new world.
“Heck, my ranch is almost as big as Morova,” Ike says.
“Speaking of Montana,” I say, “I wanted you to know the first annuity will be deposited in the account you provided us in the morning. Approximately midnight tonight Montana time, I believe.”
Ike’s reaction is more emotional than I expected. I see a shimmer of tears in his eyes as he reaches out a hand to shake mine.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Ike says, his voice cracking.
“Think nothing of it,” I say. “It’s just a formality.”
“It’s no formality to me, son. It’s life-changin’ is what it is. This whole thing – ” He waves a hand at the gardens, the palace, the children. “It’s like I walked into a storybook. A tiny brain like mine just can’t take it all in, y’know?”
Tiny brain, my ass. Ike Sparks is one of the smartest men I’ve ever met.
“Ike, I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a cattle ranch,” I say. “If you dropped me into the middle of yours all by myself, the cows would probably be dead from my incompetence within a week.”
Ike claps a hand on Vito’s shoulder, all but covering it with his palm.
“Best get these kids trained on ranch life soon, just in case that ever happens,” he says.
“Yesss!” Vito shouts, pumping his little fist.
“Well then,” I say. “I suppose we’d better arrange a visit to Montana after the wedding.”
“Really?” Oriana asks, eyes wide.
“Of course.”
“YAYYYY!” they cry. Ike joins in with a “Ya-HOO!”
The children head to a spot on the grass to discuss their impending voyage to America. As they do, Ike leans close to me.
“By the way,” he says with a chuckle. “You finally shake that bachelor party hangover?”
Ugh. I barely remember anything that happened after Ike and I talked that night. We got to our hotel suite and I passed out. Woke up still woozy and with the worst headache of my life. I vaguely remember someone coming into my room.
“I did,” I say. “But it took a couple of days. I swear I’m not normally that bad after I drink.”
“If I hadn’t seen you partyin’ on the cover of all those supermarket papers, I woulda worried that you were a lightweight, the way you were the next mornin.’” He grins. “’Course, I don’t get hangovers. Stick to beer, never fear.”
More sage advice from the Buddhist master.
Suddenly Ike snaps his fingers and reaches into the front pocket of his jeans.
“Almost forgot,” he says, rummaging around before emerging with a small box. “I got somethin’ for you.”
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Aw, it’s nothin,’ really. Just somethin’ I thought you might be able to use.”
He opens the box to reveal a pair of cufflinks. They’re sterling silver, engraved with a series of six intersecting lines that form a star-like shape.
“That’s our brand there,” he says, running his finger over the star. “It’s supposed to look like a spark, since we’re Sparks Land and Cattle, though there’s not as much land now as there was.”
He runs his thumb along the jewelry, as if lost in his memories.
“My grandpa had ‘em made up for his wedding back in 1935, and then my dad wore ‘em when he married my ma. I wore ‘em when I married Amanda’s mom. If I’d had a son, I woulda passed ‘em on to him, but I didn’t, so…”
I stare down at them, avoiding his eyes for fear that I might not be able to keep myself in check. People rarely give me things without expecting something in return.
“I understand if you don’t want ‘em,” he says. “They’re not worth anythin.’ I saw the rock you gave Amanda for her engagement ring, and I know these don’t come close to measurin’ up to that.”
“On the contrary,” I say, grinning stoically. “That ring was my mother’s before she died. It’s only fitt
ing that I wear your father’s cufflinks for the ceremony. I’m sure Amanda has told you about the importance of tradition in the Trentini family. This and her ring are symbols of our two families joining together.”
“Well, all right, then,” he says with a wide grin. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Thank you, Ike.”
“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’m glad to finally have a son to carry on the tradition.”
The twins choose that moment to come running back to us.
“I don’t suppose there are any children around here who would like to go to the lagoon?” I say, trying to head off any uncomfortable questions.
Their eyes light up. “Can Ike take us?” Oriana asks.
“Yes, please,” says Vito, ever the gentleman.
“You’ll have to ask him,” I say.
“Please, Ike,” they beg in unison, sounding like Oliver Twist asking for more gruel in the classic movie.
“Sounds like a plan,” he says, hoisting them up over his shoulders as if they weighed nothing at all. “You two need a good bath, anyway. You’re startin’ to smell like my cows.”
The children giggle as he turns to head back to the palace. Before he leaves, he glances back at me.
“Good talkin’ to you, son,” he says.
“The pleasure was all mine,” I say. Truer words were never spoken. “Now move along and get those cows down to the watering hole.”
The man who will be my father-in-law tomorrow retreats to the palace with the children, leaving me alone to contemplate whether I’m about to make a colossal mistake.
Chapter 79
34. WEDDING BROADCAST, LIVE ON 4ROMA AND STREAMED WORLDWIDE
SERGIO: Valentina, I’m being told that we have cameras on Amanda right now. Let’s go to that feed from the hallway outside the nave of the cathedral.
VALENTINA: Oh, my, Sergio, look at that dress! It’s absolutely gorgeous! It’s Andreas Fortuna at his finest!
SERGIO: Rumor has it the gown cost over 200,000 euros.
VALENTINA: Well, it’s worth every cent and more. Look at her, she’s absolutely radiant. This American lady has come out of nowhere and stolen the hearts of continental Europe overnight.
SERGIO: Can we get a close-up? Yes, there we go. Stunning. Just stunning. Maybe a little too stunning for some of those stuffy Morovans. What do you think?
VALENTINA: If the prudes on the National Council have a problem with that dress, then they need to have their heads examined. Why can’t a royal bride be sexy? Where is it written?
SERGIO: Simmer down, you’re preaching to the choir.
VALENTINA: I can’t simmer down, Sergio, because we’re looking at Prince Dante now. Drink him in, ladies, because this is the last time you’ll see him as a single man.
SERGIO: His outfit, of course, is the traditional Morovan military uniform. It was originally worn by his father, Prince Nero, when he wed the commoner Lia. Obviously Dante had to have it altered to accommodate his frame and height…
VALENTINA (sighing): Ah, his frame. His height. So serious looking, like a commander on the battlefield. Even though he has to be nervous, you’d never know it from those steely gray eyes.
SERGIO: On his hip, of course, is the legendary Trentini sword, carried into battle by his ancestor, Prince Valerio the Bold.
VALENTINA: I think all of us ladies would like a closer look at the prince’s sword…
SERGIO: Ahem. Anyway, as you can see, the palace cathedral is one of the most intricate and ornate in Europe. The Trentini family were patrons of a number of Renaissance masters, who paid them back with some of the world’s finest masterpieces. The building itself was designed by none other than Leon Battista Alberti.
VALENTINA: Well, I personally think the bride and groom are the greatest works of art in this building right now. Such a beautiful couple. With genes like that, their children will be magnificent.
SERGIO: Speaking of children, there are Vito and Oriana, looking equally gorgeous in their formal wear. This is a rare glimpse at the royal twins, who spend most of their time far away from the public eye.
VALENTINA: Perhaps that will change now that the prince is finally settling down and leaving that playboy lifestyle behind, Sergio.
SERGIO: One can only hope. Excuse me, I’m being told the procession is about to begin. And yes, there it is, the opening strains of the traditional Morovan bridal march.
VALENTINA: Amanda’s showing just a touch of nerves as things start to proceed. I can’t imagine what’s going through her head. Less than a month ago, she was a simple graduate student studying Renaissance texts in Malta. Today, she’s about to become princess of the richest principality on Earth.
SEEGIO: Yes, and only a handful of days ago, she was punching out a supermodel in Cannes.
VALENTINA: Let it go, Sergio, that was self-defense.
SERGIO: Possibly taught to her by this man, Isaac Sparks of Montana, USA, standing by his daughter’s side, ready to walk her down the aisle. Signore Sparks is a true cowboy, running the family cattle ranch.
VALENTINA: Look at him, he could be a gunslinger in an old Sergio Leone Western movie.
SERGIO: He actually looks more nervous than any of them. And is he – Arturo, can we get a close-up of his feet? There. Yes, it’s true. He’s actually wearing cowboy boots under his formal wear.
VALENTINA: Grrrowwrr. He can ride my range any time.
SERGIO: There are children watching, Valentina.
VALENTINA: Shh! It’s starting!
Chapter 80
35. AMANDA
Dad isn’t so much walking me down the aisle as he is holding me up so I don’t fall over. The pipe organ drones in my ears like white noise.
This is insane. I’m in one of the most famous cathedrals in the world, walking towards a handsome prince who’s waiting to take my hand in marriage. And the whole world is watching.
Don’t look at the kids or you’ll lose it. Shit! Too late. Their smiles are so sweet. Oriana waves at me. Should I wave back? Is that a serious breach of protocol?
I wave back anyway and return her smile. Dad does, too. I’m sure there are plenty of people clucking their tongues right now – if not for the wave then for the dress – and I don’t care. I may be in a golden cage from now on, but that doesn’t mean I have to jump through hoops.
Why are we stopping? Oh my God, we’re here already. Dante is so gorgeous close up. His uniform and that sword make him look so dignified. Suddenly my dress seems almost slutty in comparison.
Dad kisses my cheek and wipes away a tear as we lock eyes. I always expected him to walk me down the aisle, but I always just assumed it would be at St. William’s in Shelby. Not here.
I love you, pumpkin, he mouths as he turns and begins the walk back down to the family section at the front, where he’ll take a seat next to Emilio and Isabella.
Keep it together, Amanda. You can do this.
Dante’s wide eyes roam all over the dress. Judging by that look, he likes it – a lot – and that’s all that matters.
My heart gallops like a runaway bronco in my chest as we clasp hands and look into each other’s eyes.
It’s show time.
Chapter 81
36. DANTE
I want to rip that dress off and make love to her right here and now, in front of the world.
Instead, I take her hands and look into those soft eyes. Every doubt I’ve had over the past two weeks disappears. This is the right thing to do. I know it deep in my core.
The Archbishop of Morova, a man who has scolded me more times than I can remember over the past twenty years, begins to speak in measured, official tones. I’ve often wondered if he can in a manner that doesn’t sound like he’s giving a lecture.
He drones on about hallowed this and purest that, and that something was ordained for the mutual society. I don’t listen to any of it. I only want to hear my own heartbeat and see Amanda’s face
.
He asks if there if anyone has any just cause, and an image of Chancellor Huber’s fat face suddenly flashes through my mind. As I do, I see Amanda bite her bottom lip. The media will have a field day over that, but I don’t care.
The vows are, thankfully, simple tradition: loving, honoring, and cherishing. To have and to hold, from this day forward. The longest part of the whole thing is listing off my endless stream of middle names. Amanda manages to get them all correct.
She says she will.
I say I will.
We exchange rings.
We’re now man and wife. And Amanda Sparks is now an honest-to-God princess.
The archbishop doesn’t tell me I may kiss the bride; royal protocol says we don’t kiss until we reach the balcony that overlooks the gardens and the crowd below.
Fuck royal protocol.
I pull Amanda close and press my lips against hers. I hear her sudden intake of breath, followed by a contented sigh. Behind us, a dozen gasps echo through the cathedral’s 300-foot ceilings. None of them matter.
Suddenly, the sound of Oriana’s giggles reach our ears, and our lips part so we can giggle ourselves.
This is our life now. For better or for worse.
Chapter 82
37. AMANDA
“Are we going to have enough food?” I wonder aloud.
“Who cares?” Dante says, sweeping me into his arms and kissing me deeply. It’s wonderful, but it would be better if there weren’t so many flashes going off.
I suppose that’s life as a princess. Better get used to it.
We disengage and sip a little more champagne as we wait for dinner to be served. The gardens are wall-to-wall people, just as we planned. I knew it was a huge risk inviting so many commoners to the reception, but it seems to be working out. The weather is perfect, everyone is having a good time, and the media coverage has been amazing.
Even Marco finally has something to do, leading a security team through the gardens. They’re dressed so inconspicuously, you’d never know there were more than a hundred highly trained men and women patrolling the grounds.