Once Upon a Royal Wedding

by Laurie LeClair

  Once Upon A Royal Wedding

  Laurie LeClair

  His Beloved Princess

  Once Upon A Royal Wedding, Book 1

  by

  Laurie LeClair

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  Copyright 2020

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  All rights reserved. This work is not transferrable. Any reproduction of this work is prohibited without the permission of the author due to the infringement on the copyright. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the creation of the author or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or people, living or dead, is coincidental.

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  Dedication

  To Rosemary Dawn Fletcher, thank you for your love, support, and cheering me on from across the pond, my friend! Also, thank you for suggesting I write the royal weddings. If it weren’t for you I would have never written this book.

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  As always to my husband, Jim LeClair, thank you for love, laughter, and happily ever after.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  About the Author

  Books by Laurie LeClair

  Chapter 1

  Phew!

  Princess Sophia Cristobal of Maldovia longed to kick off her high heels, flex her aching feet, and stretch out in an exhausted heap.

  However, she did none of that; it wouldn’t be proper.

  Appearances mattered, her father repeated on a daily basis, along with: image was and always would be of utmost importance.

  Inwardly, she sighed at the royal constraints.

  The quiet engulfed Sophia as she sat stiff and sadly upright in the backseat of the charcoal-gray, luxury Rolls Royce. It gained speed outside the heart of her country, whisking her away from another required duty. Even the tread of the tires didn’t hum overly much along the roads as normal cars would.

  By all accounts, she had two companions with her—well, if you called a dutiful driver and a former military captain turned her guard in the passenger seat companions—both behind the thick glass that separated them from her.

  Oppressive.

  Another restriction.

  Lonely.

  That last one sent a wave of melancholy through her. No one breached the wall. Not even the palace staff.

  Oh, how she wished they would. It wasn’t normal to live such a repressive existence, where people dropped their gazes and curtsied or bowed without uttering a sound or word.

  Sometimes, she’d yearned for a crumb and tried engaging them in conversation. They’d gasp or giggle and swiftly disappear from her sight.

  Today had been awful. Another women’s luncheon expected her attendance—one her father’s well-meaning, fussbudget secretary lined up to fill in the gaps of her late mother’s yawning absence. If the palace provided Sophia with too much solitude, then this afternoon had shown the absurdity of the rich and wealthy.

  Really? When did the extinction of certain insects become a thing? The ongoing destruction of essential bees, yes. Insects, not in her lifetime. But that Agatha woman persisted, droning on in her speech and trying to whip up support. No one took the bait.

  Sophia groaned now at how adamant the poor woman was and how her face had flushed to that horrible red color. Sophia had taken pity and offered her a glass of cool water in hopes to bring down the shade and certainly the woman’s blood pressure.

  But it wouldn’t end there. Insects this time. A flower next. Perhaps a fruit fly after that. And then what?

  The last drop of energy siphoned out of her at the end of another agonizingly slow, wasted day. They meant well, but she didn’t want to sit at one ineffective event after another. Her form of punishment for being a royal and a servant to the people, she supposed.

  How had her mother done this for years?

  Certain things were expected of Sophia—participation, cooperation in performing appointed duties, and always with a willing and pleasant disposition—at least by her father, the king.

  There was so much more she could be doing…

  Thankfully, Sophia had gotten a taste of freedom months ago when her new best friend, Belle, dragged Sophia to King’s Department Store in the state of Texas. They’d gotten jobs there and met the King sisters, their families, and their friends. She was honored to count them among her very few now.

  Just recalling that time brought a smile to her face and fond memories, especially of when she’d met Sebastian, her future husband. Her heart skipped a beat.

  He’d fallen in love with her for herself, not the crown or the wealth, because he’d known nothing of either. Until later.

  I’m counting the days before I can see you again, Sebastian.

  She’d visited his lush, green land with hills and valleys, coast and cliffs in the distance, acres and acres of tall trees, and an ancient castle he was restoring. His villagers didn’t accept her fully right away; she was a foreigner, taking a part of the noble man who’d restored their livelihoods and properties, lending a hand if need be.

  Sophia sighed now, catching glimpses of streets and lavish properties in her very rich country run by her father.

  Beautiful, yes.

  Welcoming, not so much.

  Geez Louise, as her friend Peg would say. Couldn’t Sophia even get a chance to learn how to make a cup of tea for herself?

  The thirty-something man behind the wheel did seem to sympathize with her plight; however, he never dared break protocol or a rule and get himself canned.

  Sophia sensed, as well as felt, the expensive luxury car slow. Peeking out, she noted the castle in the near distance and spotted the many people lined on either side of the streets outside the enormous gold gates, awaiting her return.

  After her mother passed away in a terrible car accident months ago, her countrymen showered the palace entrance with flowers, signs, pictures, and small tokens of their affection. The amount of people and items had dwindled over time; however today they were here, awaiting Sophia.

  “Oh, how thoughtful of them!” She perked up. Sophia smiled warmly and waved to the people, stretching her neck higher to catch the masses. With hundreds behind the barricades, eager to get a glimpse of her, the royal driver inched to the palace gate.

  She yearned to roll down the windows, to at least be closer to the throngs of overheated and delighted men, women, and children. Their devotion and compassion had seen her through her worst time. They were thrilled to see her, if only for a second. They must have stood there in the warm afternoon sun for hours. How awful for them to get a peek at best.

  These were her people—struggling and hardworking and not asking for anything when they needed so much. Her beloved Sebastian, soon to be her husband in a matter of five weeks, impressed upon her the duty he had to his poor yet brave countrymen. Now, she knew she needed to do more for her own working class. If only she cou
ld…

  “Stop!”

  The glass partition powered down. “Pardon me?” Zeb, her driver and the guard, Randall, in the front passenger seat asked in unison, turning quickly to glance at her. However, the uniformed driver did halt the car.

  Sophia gathered her courage, shaking at breaking age-old protocol. “Please stop. I’d like to meet them.”

  Her father was not at home and could not be consulted. Perhaps that was the reason for her boldness now. That and that ache to be closer to the people, let them know how grateful and humbled she was for their presence.

  “Your Highness, it’s against policy—” Randall turned back to the crackling sounds in his handheld walkie-talkie. Apparently, the breach was unprecedented and, according to security, was not up for debate.

  The brief, succinct exchange continued—all checkpoints and security in charge weighed in against the impromptu venture.

  She brushed it aside—the formal rules and growing concern—and slid across the smooth leather seat to the left back passenger door. Thankfully, the handle popped open on her first try. The slight weight of pushing it was taken away from her as two men in dark-gray suits rushed to help her.

  They were not new to her detail; however, they appeared out of sorts at her abrupt change of plans.

  For the first time today, Sophia’s chest eased and she could fully breathe again. She didn’t mean to upset their plans, but being ushered to and fro for her royal duties—winged away from one stiff and formal event to the next—and then cooped up in the back of the buttoned-up vehicle increased the gnawing loneliness growing inside her.

  More so since she’d come back from her fun adventure with Belle in the States. Sophia knew what she was missing now.

  Sophia put it down to the freedom she’d had in Sebastian’s country, too, and the sweet, heartfelt genuine interactions with the many families. The differences were glaring, to say the least.

  Most of all, she missed Sebastian—his strong sense of community and giving back impacted her spirit. She wouldn’t see him for another five days and she ached at the thought.

  Her desire to mingle with real people now urged her on. The murmurs rose to glee at the sight of her. Cheers and chants soon followed. In her simple robin’s- egg blue dress and matching shoes, she stilled at the overwhelming reaction. A lump formed in her throat.

  How could she mean so much to so many, yet she’d done nothing to earn their respect, other than being born to the royal family?

  With determination, she went nearer, both guards close by her side. More of her detail scurried over to hold back the crowd and accept the outpouring of flowers, cards, and polite, heartfelt condolences on her loss.

  Sophia focused on the children first, touched by their exuberance and tiny bouquets—withered by clasping them tightly in their small hands.

  “Thank you. How kind. These are my new favorites.” She murmured greetings and words of gratitude as she went along, stopping to take a few pictures.

  The handshakes and hugs were spontaneous and welcome, on both ends. Well, except for her guards, who scowled and tried to shoo her along. Princesses were not allowed to have anyone touch them without permission or her initiating the contact.

  “You look so lovely in your pink dress.” She smiled at the beaming child, perhaps three or four.

  “My mamma made it for me.”

  Tears rushed to Sophia’s eyes, stinging them. She bent down and cupped the little girl’s soft cheek. “You are very lucky and your mother is very talented. Do you know, my mother used to sew my dresses?” At the wide-eyed response, Sophia grinned and nodded. “Yes, indeed, she did.” The wonderful memories rushed back.

  “I drew you a wedding present.” The child thrust it to Sophia, pointing to the lady with a tiara on top of her long, dark hair.

  Sophia’s heart expanded. “For me?”

  “And Mr. Seb-as-tian, is that right?” When she received a nod, she stabbed a finger at the other image. She giggled. “He’s got red hair and a beard.”

  “Yes, the beard—shorter, the way I like it.” That was one of the top questions people asked her about Sebastian: Facial hair, really?

  “Your Highness.” The head of her foot security team prompted her.

  With a twinge of regret, Sophia willingly took the artwork, waved good-bye to the little girl, and then moved on. It couldn’t have been five minutes, if that, when she realized a small wall of guards stood a few feet away, essentially blocking her from going farther—their silent way to end this little foray.

  Inside, she agreed to wrap things up. With this one going so well, she didn’t want to push her luck. Also, she longed to do this more. Both sides won this time, so she’d savor this and press for another the next time.

  Somehow her welcoming committee staved off the nip of loneliness. For that, she’d tread carefully with the powers that be and hoped to gain more opportunities to do this soon.

  “Princess Sophia!” An older woman, sitting in a wheelchair, lifted her arm with difficulty; she barely rose it up a few inches. “Please.” Her voice caught and broke.

  Something hard and sharp tugged at Sophia. She went to the woman—steel gray hair in a neat bun and soft wrinkles on her slim, pale face. The woman’s dark clothes and blanket covering her legs were older and worn. A touch of worry sat in Sophia’s belly. “I hope I haven’t kept you here too long. Would you like a picture?” She nodded to the guard, holding up a cell phone and then snapping one.

  The woman’s fierce gaze took in Sophia. “You are her. Your mother.” Her brown eyes were faded yet held such conviction.

  It wasn’t a random compliment. Not to Sophia. The words echoed with knowledge. “Did…you meet her, my mother?”

  “Yes. Such a tragedy. For all of us.”

  “Your Royal Highness, you must go. Now.” The guard shifted nearer. Another one came up behind her. “The crowds are pressing forward. It’s for the best.”

  “Wait.” She reached out to the older woman, who grasped her hands in a strong grip, despite her fragile appearance.

  “There is another.”

  Hurried away, Sophia glanced back. However, the woman was being wheeled in the opposite direction by a caretaker, by the looks of the slightly younger woman wearing basic navy-blue attire. It was too late to get more information.

  What did that mean? There is another?

  “Another what?” Sebastian McLeod grinned as he talked to Sophia, walking out to the newly landscaped back garden at his castle—the one he was painstakingly renovating to lease out to wealthy guests—for vacations, weddings, and honeymoons. Along with the spa, they were booked for months ahead, even in its incomplete state at the moment.

  “That’s what I want to know.” Sophia sighed.

  Sebastian let the soft sound wash over him. A yearning deep inside tugged. “I miss you.” He hadn’t meant that to come out, not with his best friend standing ten feet away—grinning now, so obviously he’d heard. “Stephan’s here, by the way.”

  “Is Belle with him?” Surprise lanced her voice.

  “When would she have the time?” He chuckled.

  “What with her job at King’s Department Store, her fashion design classes, and planning her own upcoming wedding, why, she should have all the time in the world to traipse, well, around the world.”

  They laughed together. Warmth spread inside him and another dose of longing.

  “I’ll let you go, so you can visit. Give Stephan my best.”

  “Later.” It came out as the promise it was intended to be.

  “I can’t wait… Love you.”

  “Me, too. You.” Reluctantly, he hung up, breaking that tenuous connection. At times, it seemed so fragile. Like now. She led a glamorous life in a wealthy kingdom near the sea, far away. He, on the other hand, struggled to rebuild his land, shoulder to shoulder with his now devoted people.

  “How long has it been?” Stephan drew near and patted Sebastian on the shoulder.

&nb
sp; “Huh?” Sebastian turned to his friend, falling back to earth again.

  “Since you’ve seen Sophia?” Stephan frowned.

  Rubbing a hand over his short beard, Sebastian groaned. “Weeks. I stayed as long as I could after her mother’s death—doing whatever I could to comfort Sophia. I go as often as I can to see her. This time, we’ll meet up in five days. Five long days. And then four more weeks until the wedding. Sweet torture.”

  “Go now.”

  “Like I can drop everything and hop on a plane.”

  “You can. Mine. My private jet. Tell me what needs to be done around here and I’ll oversee it or do it myself.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “What are friends for? If you’d let me, we’d go back into business together. Or at least, let me invest in this new venture—along with the stable of prized horses for your guests—to help with expenses.” He swept a hand over the castle and gardens. “Also, Sebastian, you’re not the only one missing his better half.”

  “But you just came from the States after seeing Belle.”

  “It doesn’t make it easier. At least it’s only been a day for me. Go on.”

  “You really mean it?” For the first time since he’d left Sophia a month ago, Sebastian allowed his worry to wash away and let hope return. He needed to see her, touch her, kiss her sweet lips, and to reassure himself that marrying her wouldn’t ruin her perfect life by foisting on her his less-than-stellar existence in a small, struggling country.

  Sebastian couldn’t give her material things, not the level she was accustomed to anyway.