The Rebel Prince (The Brides Of Bella Lucia #3)

by Raye Morgan

  Tina Marie shook her finger at Emma. “That was the day the worm turned. She began to realize her life would be as good or as bad as she made it herself. She couldn’t depend on others to make her happiness for her. It took time for her to come to her full strength as a woman and a queen, but she began the process that day.”

  Emma began looking through the scrapbook. It was a treasure trove of Meridian history. Before long, Tina Marie had told Pacio to go back to the castle and she’d started to fix up a bed where Emma could get some sleep. The plane reservations for London were long forgotten.

  Emma took a refreshing nap, had some delicious soup, and then sat up late listening to Tina Marie’s stories and telling a few of her own. By morning, she felt a good deal calmer about things.

  She’d called her brother Max the evening before, just to see how things were going at the Bella Lucia.

  “Oh, don’t worry about us,” he assured her. “We’re doing well.”

  “Really? How’s Mary Beth working out?”

  “Fine. She doesn’t have your flair as yet, but she’s working on it. A little more seasoning and she’ll be a fine chef.”

  For some reason, that didn’t seem to be what she’d wanted to hear, and she wasn’t exactly sure why.

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know, Emma. We’d love to have you back, of course, but I thought that once you were out on your own you would see that it’s way past time for you to spread your wings and do something bigger. You need to get out from under Dad’s influence and find yourself out there in the world.”

  His statement had surprised her, but she knew he was right. Bella Lucia was a part of her past now. She could go back. She could work at the restaurant again, spending her days doing what she’d been doing for years. But did she really want to? She would never see Sebastian again if she did.

  Funny—when she put those two things together and compared them—the thought of never going back to the restaurant and the thought of never going back to Sebastian—it was pretty obvious which prospect would break her heart.

  And she would miss Meridia, and Tina Marie and Aunt Trudy and Agatha and Merik—how quickly they had all become a part of her life.

  At the very least, she had to fulfill her commitment to the coronation. She couldn’t leave that to other people. Wasn’t she always telling Sebastian that responsibilities had to be addressed? Civilization itself would come unraveled if no one picked up the thread of his responsibility.

  A long walk had helped her put things into perspective, so she wasn’t shocked to find Sebastian waiting to see her when she got back.

  Her heart leaped at the sight of him. No matter what, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him.

  He looked serious and even a bit worried. He had a picnic basket with him and a CD player and a huge bouquet of yellow flowers. He asked if she would go up to the watch meadow with him, back to where they’d picnicked before.

  She only hesitated for a few seconds and Tina Marie’s secret wink helped her make up her mind.

  “I’d love to go with you,” she said, and the look of relief on his face was as good as gold in terms of a reward.

  They climbed the hill and spread out a blanket. When she opened the basket, she found a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Were they for refreshment or celebration? She didn’t know, so she left them where they were.

  Looking at Sebastian again, she noticed his lip was swollen. And then she realized he had a large purple circle under one eye. How had she missed that?

  “What happened?” she cried.

  He touched his lip and winced. “I finally had it out with Romas.”

  “Oh, no. What did you do?”

  “We were very civilized about it, actually.” He sat down next to her on the blanket. “We used boxing gloves and had an umpire. And I beat the tar out of him.”

  She hid her smile. “It looks like he got in a shot or two himself.”

  “Mere flesh wounds.”

  She shook her head. “Those flesh wounds are going to look pretty spectacular at your coronation.”

  He turned to look into her eyes, searching them. “Is there going to be a coronation?” he asked softly.

  She turned away. “You can’t put it all on my shoulders like this.”

  “Why not? You put it all on mine.”

  He was right, she supposed. She deserved his reply.

  “But before we go any further, I thought you would want to know…It looks like the cornberries were the culprit in my father’s death. He had heart disease, but the reaction to the berries probably made things worse.”

  She bit her lip, nodding. “I’m sorry, Sebastian.” She squeezed his hand, wishing there were words that actually helped when people were in pain. Then she remembered. “But what about Aunt Trudy?”

  He shook his head, his eyes hooded. “I’m not going to tell her. There’s no point. But I am going to make sure she doesn’t go on offering people cornberry wine.”

  “Good.” It was a relief that Trudy wouldn’t be told. What heartbreak it would have been for her. Emma loved Sebastian even more for being sensitive to that.

  “Now how about some of the wine I brought?” he said.

  She nodded and pulled the bottle out of the basket, looking for the bottle opener. Meanwhile, he put a romantic CD into the player and turned it on.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, laughing at him.

  He leaned back and looked at her. “I spent a sleepless night trying to figure out what I did wrong yesterday,” he told her. “I even asked my sister, much as I hated to do it. I got an earful about a lot of things, but most of all, I’ve been told I’m not romantic enough. So I’m giving it a try.”

  “Interesting.” She had to work hard to keep her smile under control.

  “Isn’t it?” He opened the bottle and poured the golden liquid out into the glasses. Handing her one, he raised his in a toast.

  “To romance,” he said. “To sunny days and kisses in the rain and daisy chains.”

  “Hear hear,” she said, clinking glasses with him. His lack of romance was only a part of what had bothered her the day before. But he was certainly trying. She had to hand it to him on that.

  He glanced at his watch and looked out into the sky as though he was expecting something to happen. She tried to look where he was looking to get some idea of what was bothering him, but she didn’t have a clue.

  “How am I doing so far?” he asked her.

  “Pretty good,” she told him, purposely staying a bit low-key for now. “Keep it up.”

  “Okay.” He gritted his teeth. “Ah, hell. Listen, you like Meridia, don’t you?”

  “It’s a wonderful country.”

  “And you care about its future.”

  “Of course.”

  “And you’re interested in its past.”

  “Yes.”

  He threw his hands out. “So what the hell’s the problem?”

  “Oh, Sebastian.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.” He grimaced, realizing he’d strayed off the beaten path for a moment there. “Okay.” He licked his lips. “I suppose you wonder what life will be like if you become queen.”

  She blinked at him. “Not really.”

  “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. Here it is. Your life will be what you want to make of it. I know you have a career. You’re a top chef, one of the best. You don’t have to give that up. In fact, you’ll have resources you could never have on your own. You told me you wanted to write cookbooks and be on TV shows. As queen, you’ll have television networks and book publishers yapping about your heels like pet poodles. You’ll be able to do whatever you want. You can teach in cooking seminars. You can set up a college of Epicurean wisdom if you want.”

  She cocked her head to the side, considering. “That all sounds pretty good.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” He looked pleased. “But I’ve got to be honest. That’s not all. The m
ost important thing, the bottom line—your main duty as queen will be to have my children. Think you can handle that?” He gazed at her levelly.

  She colored. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I have any talent in that direction.”

  His smile was crooked and his eyes sparkled. “Don’t worry. I recognize raw talent when I see it. We’re going to hone your skills.”

  She was beginning to feel a little giddy. “You sound like you’re trying to sell me options on a new life.”

  “In a way, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  “But, Sebastian, you don’t have to sell me anything. I understand all that. And I know you are a wonderful man.”

  He frowned. “Then what’s the hold-up?”

  She closed her eyes and groaned.

  “I know. It’s that same old ‘If you don’t know I can’t tell you’ again. Right?”

  He looked so bemused by it all, she had to laugh. “Sort of,” she admitted.

  He sobered, taking her hand in his and lacing fingers.

  “The truth is, I do love this country and I do want it to succeed. And I do want to be their leader. But I’m not sure I can do a good job of it without you. There’s something strong and pure and good in you, Emma. I need it in my life. I need someone to tell me when I’m running rough-shod over other people. I need someone to see when I’m about to go off the rails for whatever reason, someone I can trust to set me right again.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Can you be that person?”

  She thought for a moment, frowning. “What if I were to say I would only marry you if you pledged not to take the crown? What would you say then?”

  “Emma, are you kidding? I’m not just trying to hire you as a sort of assistant king to help me run the country. Marrying you is number one. Being with you is all I need. Say the word and we’ll be gone tomorrow. I’ve got a yacht waiting for me in the Caribbean. I think you’ll love sailing.”

  “Save it for a vacation,” she said. A good, warm feeling was growing inside her. She was beginning to think this relationship might have a chance after all.

  “That wasn’t really a very good test,” Sebastian was saying, “because I know you. And I know you want me to accept the crown. But when we marry, I’ll pledge my life to you as well as my heart. And if there comes a time when you feel you can’t take it here any longer, all you have to do is say the word, and we’ll find someone else to take over.”

  She nodded happily. She was beginning to believe him.

  He was glancing at his watch again and looking around at the sky.

  “Where is that damn…?”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  The sound of an engine finally came through the trees and he swung back to look. “There it is!” he cried, pointing toward the gap between the stands of forest. “Here he comes. Look.”

  She looked. A small microlight plane was coming into the clearing ahead. It seemed to be pulling a long banner behind it, but the banner was tangled and she couldn’t read what it said.

  “See that little plane?” Sebastian said, grinning. “It’s Pacio.”

  “Oh, how cute. Pacio is a man of many talents.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Sebastian was muttering, beginning to look worried.

  She frowned. The plane was sputtering. “But wait. Doesn’t the engine sound a little funny?”

  “It sure does. Oh, my God, he’s going to crash!”

  They both jumped up and began running toward the clearing.

  The little plane had landed in a tree and was sputtering, then the engine quit entirely and the plane slid down through the trees, onto the ground. It hit with a thump rather than a smash-up, and as they approached they could see Pacio climbing out of the wreckage and waving to them.

  “Thank God,” Sebastian said. “It looks like he’s okay.”

  “Oh. Look.”

  Emma pointed up at the top of the tree where the banner had been ripped from its moorings on the plane. It now spread out across the tree, showing everything, which included the royal crest and the wording, “Emma, I love you” in huge letters.

  She stared at it for a long moment, then turned and looked at Sebastian. “Did you do that?” she asked softly.

  He nodded, looking wary. “Too over the top?” he asked uncertainly. “Too public? Maybe I should have done it in code.”

  She was shaking her head. “No,” she said. “No, it’s just right.” And she threw herself into his arms, raising her face for his kisses. “Oh, Sebastian,” she sighed. “You’re so crazy.”

  “Crazy in love with you,” he corrected, nuzzling her ear. “Emma, Emma, I need you to marry me.”

  He kissed her cheeks and then her eyelids and then her nose, and finally her lips.

  “It was only last week that you and I talked about love right here on this hillside,” he reminded her softly. “Neither one of us was sure that such a thing existed. A lot can change in a week.”

  “Yes.”

  “So tell me, Emma. Do you believe in love?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “And will you marry me?”

  Before she could answer, shouts could be heard. They looked down and saw a crowd coming up from where the plane had landed. They were carrying Pacio on their shoulders.

  “People are coming up the hill,” Sebastian said. “You’d better decide quickly. They’ve seen the banner. When they get here, they’ll want answers.”

  She shook her head. “Is this the way it’s going to be? ‘The people’ will rule our lives?”

  He nodded, smiling down at her. “That’s what you’re signing up for. If you marry me.”

  She sighed. “Okay, then. I may be crazy myself, because the answer is ‘yes’. I love you and I’d love to marry you.”

  He gave a whoop, swung her up into his arms and kissed her, hard. The crowd coming up the hill began to cheer and the sun broke out through the clouds.

  “You see?” he told her, still holding her high. “The world looks better already.”

  She nodded, tears beginning to overflow and stream down her face.

  This was going to be the beginning of a real happily-ever-after life. It had to be.

  EPILOGUE

  HISTORY BEING MADE.

  That phrase kept pounding in his head as Sebastian prepared for the coronation. History was being made and he was a part of it. An epic or a tragedy? Time would tell.

  A horse-drawn carriage was taking him toward the cathedral where the ceremony would take place. He looked out on the land he loved, gleaming in the sunlight. His heart swelled.

  And then he looked out at the people. They lined the road, four or five deep in some places. There was an eerie silence about them, though a murmur seemed to follow him as he passed. Most faces weren’t hostile, exactly, just curious. As Emma kept reminding him, all they knew about him was what they read in the papers. Would he be able to prove himself to them?

  “Yes.”

  He said it aloud, firmly. And he believed it.

  The cathedral shimmered like silver ahead. The carriage came to a stop and the honor guard stood at attention to escort him up the wide stone stairs. At the top he stopped and turned, slowly surveying the crowd. Here and there a banner waved. “Phony King” said one. “Bring back Prince Julius” said another. A third was obscene, but it almost made him laugh, and the first thing he thought was, he had to remember it for Emma.

  Emma. He wished they could have married first, so that she could be beside him today. Then the banners could have read, “Phony King + Traitor Chef”. That almost made him laugh again, and he turned to go into the cathedral.

  An hour of time-honored ritual made an important impression on them all. This was real and it was serious—a culmination of what generations of Meridians had built in this lakeside land. Strangely, the more the pomp and circumstances swelled, the more humble he felt.

  He caught sight of Emma standing at the back of the cathedral, dresse
d in a beautiful silk dress that flowed around her regally, though he knew she was about to dash back to the castle and don her chef whites. Their eyes met as he passed her. Hers shimmered with unshed tears. Watching him take the crown had obviously been emotional for her.

  Coming out onto the stone terrace, he was almost surprised to see that the crowds were still there, waiting to see him again. Custom would have him going straight back into the carriage and riding to the castle. Somehow, that didn’t fit with the way he was feeling. Motioning to his honour guard to pause, he went to the edge of the terrace and saluted the crowd.

  A murmur simmered and someone yelled, “Hey, King!”

  King. He smiled. One of the honor guards, an old timer, came up and whispered a warning in his ear.

  “Some of ’em’s got rotten fruit,” he told him. “Don’t stay still too long. They’ll start throwin’ things.”

  Looking out, he knew the old man was right. But he couldn’t just walk away. He had to say something to them. If that meant he was going to get a garbage shower, so be it.

  Later, he couldn’t have said where the words came from. He hadn’t prepared anything. But somehow he was able to open his heart and his soul and engage his mind, and it flowed out of him: all the hopes and dreams he had for this country, how he wanted the people to have a voice in their destiny, how he expected to use their input—in short, how he would rule.

  He stopped and there was silence. Had he connected at all? He couldn’t tell. But at least no one had thrown anything rotten. Not yet.

  Then, suddenly, from far back in the crowd came a young, wavering voice. “All hail King Sebastian,” it cried.

  There was a tittering from the crowd, more embarrassed than amused. But another voice took up the call.

  “All hail King Sebastian,” it said. And a third voice chimed in, this time one he recognized, Tina Marie.

  One by one, others joined the chorus. The sound of it grew and surged. Staring out at them, he couldn’t believe it. Maybe they weren’t going to hate him after all. Turning, he searched for Emma’s face, and when he found it he gestured for her to join him.

  She came to his side quickly and he pulled her close. “Your future queen,” he called out, and a cheer went up.