The Crown Prince's Bride

by Donna Alward

  Navy pumps were substituted for neutral slingbacks that would match the bridesmaid dress. She hustled to the back entrance and slid into the limousine. Marco smiled at her. “Beautiful day for a wedding, ¿sí?”

  “It is. Thank you, Marco, for accommodating our new schedule.”

  “It’s no problem. We always expect something to go a little sideways and we make adjustments. Everything will run smoothly, don’t worry.”

  Maybe she did need to loosen her grip a bit.

  She got to the cathedral in record time. The press and security were already present, and she scanned the area to make sure everyone was in their places. Marco was right—everything was running like clockwork. Once inside, Diego’s assistant, Sofia, was waiting with a garment bag. “Your dress.” She lifted an eyebrow. “And if that cow is sick, I’ll give up my salary for a year.”

  “You have a copy of the day’s plans, right?” Stephani asked the question as she took the garment bag.

  “I do. Between us this will be a breeze. Now go put this gown on. I have pins if we need to make any quick adjustments.” Her smile was just a little bit catty. “Hayley is a little hippier than you.”

  The dress did end up being a little big through the waist and hips, though not much. A few deft safety pins from Sofia had the gown fitting nearly perfectly, with a few tiny puckers that would only be noticeable to anyone who knew to look. Her shoes matched fine and Sofia said the sapphire and pearl pendant was perfect. They emerged from the room in time to see the first of the guests being ushered inside.

  “Your bouquet is coming with Rose and Becca,” Sofia said, referencing Rose’s friend. “You look gorgeous, Steph. So glam.”

  “Thanks. I’m nervous.”

  Sofia laughed. “You planned this whole thing without turning a hair, and this has you nervous? Relax. It’s going to be lovely.”

  Sofia gave her a quick hug and left to check in with the ushers. It would normally be Steph’s job, but she forced herself to take a breath and loosen her death grip on the reins. Delegating wasn’t something she was always good at, but Sofia was proving herself up to any task she was given.

  Thirty minutes later the guests were nearly all seated and families started to arrive. Rose’s sister-in-law was seated, then her parents. Brody went up the steps carrying baby Alyssa, Lucy and Imogene beside him, as well as the four children who would soon walk up the aisle as well. Alice and Emilia were dressed in sweet white dresses with champagne-colored sashes, little bouquets in their hands. Max and Alex were in miniature tuxes, their shoes shined perfectly. Before the day was out they’d likely be covered in dust, but for now they were pristine.

  “Tía Stephani! You are beautiful!” Emilia came forward, her eyes shining. “I’m so glad you are here.”

  “Me too, darling. Your dress is so pretty.” She gave the little girl a hug, knowing she must be missing her mother on such an occasion. She kissed Emilia’s cheek, then snuck a little glance at Alice, who looked uncomfortable and unhappy. “I’m sorry your mum isn’t feeling well,” she offered gently. “But you look lovely, Alice.”

  Alice smiled a little. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s go inside the doors where we can wait for the big moment, okay?”

  She held out her hand to the girl. She knew what it was like to feel like you didn’t quite belong, and Alice was among strangers except for the small number of Rose’s family in attendance and the other children, who seemed to have easily accepted her. Annoyance slid through Steph. If Hayley wasn’t really sick, she was inconsiderate not just to Rose, but to her daughter as well, for leaving her alone on such a day.

  Once inside, even the children were awed by the soaring ceilings, the crowd, and the profusions of flowers. Imogene knelt down before the four of them. “I’ll be sitting with Brody and Lucy, so I’m not far if any of you need anything, okay? You all look brilliant.”

  Then she was gone, following behind Brody and Lucy to one of the front pews, leaving Stephani in charge of the lot.

  It was only moments until the bride arrived, along with her bridesmaid, Becca. Steph took a moment to watch, entranced, as Rose emerged from the car, looking resplendent in her white gown. The cut was simple but the gown itself was not, with lace and pearls adding a timeless quality. Her veil drifted around her in the slight breeze, feather-light and magical. But most magical was the look on her face. It was a look of utter joy and excitement.

  Becca helped her with the small train, then stood and handed the bride her bouquet. She reached back inside the car and took out two more—hers, and presumably Stephani’s as well.

  Rose climbed the steps, then gave a half turn, waved at the gathered press and public, and laughed a little. She was so artless, so genuine. The press loved her, and so did Stephani. In a way, Rose’s kindness and strength reminded her of Ceci. The Navarro men did tend to choose strong women.

  “You are stunning, but then, I knew you would be.”

  Raoul’s voice tickled her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She took a breath, preparing herself to turn around and see him in all his tuxedoed glory. Still, the breath wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the suit that momentarily stopped her heart, though it was certainly a flawless cut, now adorned with an official sash of royal purple and red. It was his eyes that did it, warm with approval, never leaving her face.

  This would be so much easier if she didn’t love him.

  “Likewise,” she managed to say, offering a smile though inside she trembled. “Diego is here? Ready?”

  “He is. Nervous and excited and shockingly ready for marriage. It’s very, very odd.”

  She laughed a bit. “I think it’s lovely.”

  Raoul rolled his eyes. “Right. It’s also a bit disconcerting. When someone is getting married, they think everyone else should as well.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “This morning, Diego suggested that I consider marrying again.”

  It felt as if someone punched her right in the solar plexus, but it wasn’t the first time so she merely shrugged. “A king needs a queen, I suppose.”

  His brow furrowed. “I suppose, but that’s not what Diego said. He said I was too young to never love again. And that I should find someone to fall in love with and be happy.” His laugh was short but held a wealth of pain. “I’m afraid that’s over for me. I was extraordinarily lucky to have had it once. I’m not really looking to have it again.”

  She couldn’t torture herself like this any longer. It wasn’t fair or healthy, and while she’d miss the Navarro family, she needed to make her own start. Cecilia was gone. Stephani would never be the one to capture his heart, and it had been utter foolishness to even entertain the slightest bit of hope.

  But she would not think about it today. Today she would enjoy the wedding, and celebrate being with the people she loved. Tomorrow would be enough time to check up on her inquiries and make further plans.

  “Rose is here, just behind the closed doors.” She looked over her shoulder to make sure. “You should be with Diego and Devon, ready to take your place with the priest.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled. “I’ll see you up there.”

  He turned to walk away, taking her heart with him. It hurt, but the last five minutes had solidified her decision to leave and it felt . . . right. Difficult, but right. She couldn’t get over him when she saw him day in and day out. And she had to get over him or live in limbo for the rest of her life.

  Stephani snuck out the large doors to where Rose and Becca waited with the children. “Oh, Rose. You look so gorgeous.” A wistful sort of feeling swept over her. There was nothing quite like this moment, just before a bride took her walk down the aisle.

  “Thank you,” Rose said quietly, her smile shaky. “I’m so nervous, Stephani. In less than an hour I’m going to be a princess. It’s suddenly so surreal.”

  “It’s the press. They have that effect.” Stephani smiled, both at Rose and Becca. “Looks like I’m standing in today.”

  Becca
lifted an eyebrow. “I wish you’d stayed with us at the hotel last night, Stephani. It would have been more fun.”

  Rose snorted. “This is typical Hayley,” she whispered, so that Alice wouldn’t hear. “I decided I won’t let it ruin a thing.”

  “Good for you. And as far as the princess thing . . .” Stephani thought back to Raoul’s words, about Diego and marrying for love. “You’re becoming Mrs. Rose Navarro first. That’s all you need to think about today.”

  One of the ushers gave her a nod, and she reached for her bouquet. “All right. It’s time.”

  Rose inhaled sharply, and Stephani reached out to squeeze her hand. She was going to miss this family so much.

  Becca carefully guided the children into their proper pairs and started them up the aisle at the correct intervals as a choir sang. Then Becca gave a smile and started up herself, clutching her bouquet and walking at the precise speed they’d rehearsed.

  Then it was Steph’s turn.

  She stepped to the door, saw the eyes on her, felt her stomach quiver with nerves. Her fingers tightened around the bouquet—she’d never been in a wedding before, not even Ceci’s. On that day she’d been a special guest, but not a bridesmaid. One step on the runner, then another. Step by step up the aisle, knowing deep down that today she was simply filling in and not a first choice.

  Diego was at the front, Raoul beside him, and her knees wobbled just a bit as his gaze met hers down the long expanse of aisle. He was so strong, so determined, with such a good heart. Loyal to a fault, with broad shoulders to handle the responsibility he was born to and never asked for. He was, and likely would always be, her ideal.

  But not hers.

  No matter how much she wished it. His loyal, loving heart had been given away years ago, and the real kicker was that the very reason she couldn’t have him was one of the reasons she loved him so much. He was the kind of man who gave himself completely—to his kingdom, yes, but to his wife, to his children. She admired the ruler, but she loved the family man.

  And still she couldn’t look away. Not until she got to her place at the altar, next to Becca and facing the back of the church again.

  The pipe organ swelled and Rose stood to the door, her father beside her, his chest expanded with pride. A collective “oooh” went up from the guests as she stepped forward, a picture of bridal perfection. The procession was dignified and stately until she heard Diego clear his throat beside her, and she looked over. His lower lip trembled just a bit, and his eyes were suspiciously shiny. When Stephani looked back at Rose, she saw a wide, wonderful smile and blue eyes that glittered with happy tears.

  A stinging started behind her nose, but she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.

  Rose reached the front and Stephani turned just a bit, only to encounter Raoul’s soft gaze. For a moment she wondered if he’d cry if she walked up the aisle, wondered what it would be like to meet him at the altar and take his hand.

  Foolish dreams she’d held on to for too long.

  The ceremony began with prayers and kneeling and blessings, moved on to vows and rings and a final kiss. Stephani held Rose’s bouquet when she took Diego’s hands in hers, then handed it back when it was over and they were preparing to leave the church and pose on the church steps before heading back to the palace for official pictures.

  Rose clutched Diego’s arm and looked up at him as if he’d hung the moon and stars.

  Stephani stepped down and Raoul held out his arm, waiting for her. She took it, feeling the fine, stiff cloth of his sleeve beneath her fingers.

  “They’re happy.”

  She nodded, tears fluttering against her eyelashes. “Very,” she replied as they began the walk back down the aisle.

  Once on the cathedral steps, they stayed in the background while the press snapped pictures of Diego and Rose. After a few minutes, Raoul, Lucy, and Alexander posed as a royal family. Just for a few moments, then they would all head back to the privacy of the palace for more intimate photos.

  Once the family photo op was over, Raoul returned to her side. “Are you ready to head back to the palace?”

  She nodded. “I should change and check on the preparations for the rest of the day.”

  He took her hand. “Let Sofia handle it. If she has questions, she’ll ask. You’ve trained her well, and this is an opportunity for her to step into a bigger role. She needs the confidence.”

  “But . . .”

  “But nothing. I want you to enjoy the day, Stephani. Not as my assistant but as someone who means a lot to me . . . to our family.”

  She bit down on her lip. Maybe she should. Take this one day and etch it on her memory as a bit of a goodbye. If she left, there wouldn’t be any more royal invitations to balls or parties or state dinners, would there?

  “As you wish,” she murmured, taking her hand out of his grasp.

  He looked away and lifted his hand, signaling to Marco. Within seconds they were hidden away in the limo, sitting across from Diego and Rose who were beaming with happiness. Diego popped the cork on a bottle of champagne, making them all laugh, and poured the fizzy liquid into glasses.

  “To happiness,” Diego toasted, lifting his glass. “And love.”

  “To happiness and love,” they echoed.

  As Stephani sipped the champagne, she wondered if it was possible for her to have happiness, since love didn’t seem to be in the cards.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Raoul was, for the first time in a very long time, in the background.

  He sipped a second glass of champagne and watched as Diego and Rose circulated through the grand hall, speaking to guests and smiling the whole time. He was happy for his brother; it also brought back memories of his own wedding day to Ceci and how he’d been so happy and hopeful for the future. The feeling centered in his chest was oddly bittersweet.

  Lucy appeared at his side, her red curls bouncing as she rose up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Everyone says a bride glows, but I think it’s the groom in this case. Diego . . . he’s completely lit up,” she remarked. “And you’re over here being a wallflower.”

  “It’s his day,” Raoul said easily. “I’ve had many of my own where I was the center of attention. Today the spotlight’s on him.” He grinned and winked at Lucy. “And this time it’s not because of some scandal.”

  “Those days are behind him,” Lucy agreed.

  Together they watched as the children scooted around the edge of the crowd, Rose’s niece, Alice, close behind, and a frazzled Imogene trying to keep up. Raoul shook his head. “Do you think they’ll ever get tired?”

  Lucy laughed. “Did you at that age?”

  Raoul seriously tried to recall and couldn’t. For as long as he could remember, he’d been aware of his future as king and the gravity of the position. Not that Alexander had totally sheltered him. He’d been allowed to be a boy, but there had always been a nanny, and security, and a risk analysis for any major activity.

  He wondered if Emilia felt the same way. He hoped not. She was in line for the throne after him. She also deserved a chance to be a kid.

  There’d always been Ceci to make sure the children had a real childhood. He wasn’t as good at that, though he was trying. He thought back to Diego’s words this morning. The idea of marrying again was inconceivable. But then . . . the idea of being alone for the rest of his life stretched out before him, bleak and empty. Equally inconceivable.

  “Where’d you go? You got quiet all of a sudden.” Lucy nudged his elbow.

  He chuckled. “Oh, lost in some thoughts. Nothing serious.”

  She was quiet for a few moments, then nodded toward the curving staircase. “Is there anything Stephani can’t do? She organized all this, and then stepped in as bridesmaid without batting an eyelash. And looks gorgeous doing it.”

  He looked over. Stephani still held her bouquet in one hand, but she was looking over something on a tablet with Sofia. Their heads were together and Raoul couldn’t help but notice the way
her dress hugged her shoulders then tapered down her back to the hollow of her spine before flaring out slightly at her hips.

  Gorgeous was a very accurate word. He swallowed roughly. He also knew what it was like to hold her in his arms, even if it had been briefly and he’d had too much Scotch. It had felt so good, so right, that it had terrified him. He had to keep thinking of her as one of the family. As Ceci’s cousin. She was family, not . . .

  She turned around, caught him staring at her, and a blush stained her cheeks.

  Mierda. How were they supposed to get through the weeks and months ahead if he kept thinking of her this way? He’d meant what he’d said earlier. He wasn’t interested in marrying again. But dammit, he wasn’t dead.

  He hadn’t died with Ceci, and it was time he faced that truth.

  Lucy coughed. “Raoul, you and Stephani, are you . . .” She let the thought hang.

  He turned back, startled. “What? No.” He let out a breath as he met Lucy’s gaze. “No, of course not. She’s my assistant. She’s Ceci’s cousin.”

  “So?”

  He didn’t need this. It was bad enough that his thoughts strayed from time to time. If anyone in the family knew he’d even imagined Stephani as something other than his assistant, they’d hound him mercilessly.

  “So, I don’t think of her that way.” His lips thinned. “I know you’re my sister and you care, but I don’t need anyone making trouble. I depend on Steph and we don’t need any undertones in the office, okay?”

  Lucy stared at him for a long moment. “Okay. Fine. But someday you’re going to have to open yourself up again.”

  “People keep saying that. It’s getting tiresome. Maybe everyone can find another topic. My personal life is off-limits.”

  Her eyes widened. “All right. I’m sorry, Raoul. I didn’t mean to stick my nose in. Particularly when you’re still obviously quite raw.”

  He nodded. “I know. And I know you all care. I just . . . I need to do things at my own pace. On my own timeline. Everyone pushing doesn’t actually speed up the process.”