“Of sorts. I thought…I wondered if prison would have changed Gerald, but it didn’t. He’ll never change.” Her voice turned suddenly urgent. “I was never involved in any of his schemes, Cousin Gabriel. Truly. I never saw either of them after that night. I left with my things and never went back. I didn’t know about any of it until I saw stories on the news.”
“We believe you,” Gabriel said, cupping her face. “We believe you.”
“You do?”
“A child does not always become their parents. Nor should a child have to pay for the sins of their parents, if they were not involved in them. Trust is, however, a two-way street. We’ll trust each other from this day forward. I urge you not to lose our trust, and we will endeavor not to lose yours, either.”
A fresh spate of tears rolled down her cheeks and over his fingers, but he didn’t move them. Instead, he brought her head closer and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You’re with us now, my child. For as long as you’d like to stay.”
“Y-You want me to stay?”
“We haven’t been a very good family to you, Zinnia. That changes now. However, if you’d prefer to go back home to Switzerland, that’s up to you. Just know that we’ll be calling you much more.”
“I don’t have a home,” she said in a small voice.
“Well, you’ve got one with us.”
“I’d like to stay.”
“Then you will.”
“But, the wedding, and–”
“If you’d like to go, I’m sure Alexander and Rebecca won’t mind. If you’d prefer not to go to the ceremony, then you’re more than welcome to attend only the wedding breakfast and not both. You are also welcome to avoid all of the wedding events, if you feel it would be too overwhelming for you.”
“I’d like to see my family, but I think it might be too much. Is that okay?”
“Perfectly so. You can spend time with us after the wedding. I just have one more question for you.”
“Okay,” Zinnia said warily.
“Why did you go to the cemetery?”
A blush swept Zinnia’s cheeks. “I made a promise. It was foolish.”
“It’s not. Tell me.”
She brushed away a few more tears. “Well, er, you see, I, er, when I was raped, I told him that he wouldn’t get away with it. And he said he would because our father would never publically claim him, much less admit his son had done that to his half-sister. So, I told him that when he died, I’d stomp on his grave and spit on it,” she added so quietly they strained to hear her.
Genevieve snorted. “Did you really? Oh my goodness.”
“It was wrong, and disrespectful to the dead. I’m sorry.”
“My child, he raped you. He doesn’t deserve any respect, alive or dead. Though, I certainly wouldn’t do it again–”
“No, of course not! I feel ashamed to have done it once.” She looked down. “It was just, he took so much from me. It was my, um, first time, too. I’ve never felt clean since that day. For years, I just haven’t felt clean. I just wanted him to feel as dirty as I do.” She started sobbing again, and Gabriel and Genevieve comforted her once more.
“You’re not dirty,” Genevieve said. “You never have been. We’ll help you see it, my dear Zinnia. We’ll help you.”
Chapter Fourteen
It was past eleven-thirty in the evening when Alex finally brought his father home. They’d waited until the cover of darkness to transfer him to the palace and, so far at least, the press had been none the wiser.
Of course, there had been another reason to delay his arrival at the palace.
“I’ll be glad to sleep in my own bed tonight,” Gabriel said, as Alex pushed him down the hall in his wheelchair. The complex labyrinth of palace halls would be too much for him to navigate on his feet just yet.
“Well, we do have a surprise for you, so you can’t sleep just yet.”
“Oh? You haven’t made a fuss, have you?”
“Rebecca’s made the fuss, and I think it’s a fine idea.”
Alex wheeled him into the Royal Wing, then detoured him to one of the ballrooms they had, but rarely used. Most balls held at the palace took place in the public ballrooms, not the private, royal ones.
“What is this?” Gabriel asked, taking in the flowers and chairs.
“It’s my wedding.”
Gabriel swiveled sharply in his chair. “What?”
“Since you can’t come to the formal ceremony, Rebecca thought you might enjoy a smaller, private one. It’ll be just us – just the close family, I should say; we didn’t tell the cousins or our aunts and uncles about it. It’s just our family. And we’ll say ‘I will’ just after midnight, so the wedding date stays the same.”
Gabriel’s eyes grew damp. “Alexander. I-I’m speechless.” He pulled his son’s face to his, and gave him a kiss on each cheek. “Thank you, my son.”
“Thank Rebecca. She’s the one who thought of it. I wish I had, to be honest.”
“Where is she?”
“She is hiding,” Genevieve said as she strolled in, wearing a simple Vallerian purple dress. “Alex can’t see her before the wedding.”
“A ridiculous tradition, if you ask me.”
“Then you’re really not going to like this.”
“What?” Alex said warily.
Genevieve held out a soft, black sleep mask – essentially a blindfold. “Wear this.”
Alex blinked. “I promise I won’t look at her until she comes in.”
“Well, the thing is, Rebecca doesn’t want you to see her until the morning ceremony.”
“What?” Alex growled. “Unacceptable. She’ll be my wife in approximately,” he checked his watch, “twenty-four minutes and eleven seconds. I’m not going to be blindfolded through my wedding.”
“Wear it!” a voice shouted from down the hall.
“I’m not wearing it, Rebecca,” he shouted back.
“Wear. It.”
Alex looked to the ceiling and took a deep breath. “You’re lucky I love you,” he shouted.
“I am lucky; I have you,” she shouted back.
Holy hell. Every time she said that back to him, his heart melted. “Yeah, yeah.”
He heard her giggle and a grin broke out on his face.
Alex slipped into a side room and changed into a more formal suit, but not the military dress uniform he’d planned to wear at the full ceremony later that day. By the time he’d returned, all of his brothers had piled into the room, and Marcello had set up a secure live feed so Arianna, Finn, Ethan, and Carolina could watch, too. Charlie had brought in a bevy of food – some of it clearly on Gabriel’s new diet – along with a simple, yet stunning cake.
William, the church official, entered, looking harried, but happy. “It’s quite unusual, really quite unusual, but such a lovely idea for His Majesty.”
When the music began to play at the stroke of midnight, Genevieve glared at Alex and he slid on the blindfold. He felt ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous.
His other senses heightened, however, and some things seemed amplified. He could sense his love as she was walked towards him, as the lavender scent she wore grew stronger and the soft swish of her dress grew louder. He felt as though he could hear her smile, too.
He finally felt her standing next to him.
“We are gathered here today,” William began, “to celebrate the marriage of His Royal Highness–”
“Let’s keep this version simple, William,” Alex said. “Leave the pomp and circumstance for later today.”
“Of course, Your Highness. Are you not, er, concerned about the validity of this ceremony?”
“No. The new laws passed just a few hours ago ensure that this ceremony is valid, even if you call me Alexander.” After hearing Rebecca’s idea at the hospital, Alex had made sure the final law included some very specific provisions. Since he was flexing his power as king, and the public outcry against the Council was huge, the Council had approved
what he’d asked for, without realizing why he’d asked for it.
“Of course. Well, then. We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Alexander and Rebecca.”
As William gave a simple speech about marriage, Alex found Rebecca’s hand – he could find any part of her in the dark, to be honest – and brought it to his lips for a kiss. Her engagement ring had been shifted to her right hand and he felt the cool stones brush his lips.
The ring – a large emerald-cut Vallerian amethyst at its center surrounded by tiny diamonds, with the band in a pave setting – had been his Nonna’s wedding ring, and had been passed through the family line for years. Soon, a simple ring of alternating diamonds and amethysts would join it on her left hand.
His skin tingled with anticipation. The day he’d been waiting for, the very moment he would claim her as his, was looming. She would be his – permanently, possessively, positively his. There was nothing to stop them now.
Rebecca had shifted closer against him, the soft fabric of her dress grazing his wrist as he held her hand.
“If anyone can show any just cause why this wedding should not take place, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Alex’s skin tingled as pre-emptive anger coiled within him, ready to strike should anyone speak out.
He shouldn’t have worried; no one spoke. In this room, no one would. And tomorrow, if anyone tried, they’d be too late anyhow.
“Very good. Very good,” William said. “Who stands with the bride?”
“Last chance,” Ettore whispered. Alex growled; he didn’t care for his almost father-in-law giving his fiancée one last chance to run away.
Rebecca giggled. “I’m all right, Papa. Promise.”
“Her mother and I stand with her,” Ettore said, no longer whispering.
Alex felt the brush of Rebecca’s veil against his face as it was raised; he wished he wasn’t blindfolded so that he could see her in her bridal glory.
“Will you, Alexander Robert Louis Santoro, take this woman to be your wedded wife? Will you love her, comfort her, and honour her, in sickness and in health and, forsaking all others, keep only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”
His throat seemed tight, as if unable to say the words he’d been dreaming of for so long. He gripped Rebecca’s hand tighter, and wished again he could see her face as he said the words. “I will.”
“Will you, Rebecca Frances Campo, take this man to be your wedded husband? Will you love him, comfort him, and honour him, in sickness and in health and, forsaking all others, keep only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. Alex brought her hand to his lips again.
“Alexander, please repeat after me: I, Alexander Robert Louis Santoro.”
“I know what to say,” Alex said. He shifted his body, knowing, even with his eyes covered, that he was staring straight into hers. “I, Alexander Robert Louis Santoro, take you, Rebecca Francis Campo, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.” He cupped her face. “This is my eternal vow to you, my love. I promise to never take you for granted, and to be grateful for every moment of every day of our lives together as husband and wife, just as I’ve been grateful for every moment since I tricked you into having dinner with me all those months ago.”
Soft chuckles filled the room.
“Alex,” Rebecca murmured, then sniffled.
“Er,” William began, “those aren’t the official wedding vows, Your Highness.”
“I said the official ones,” Alex stated, his face still fixed on Rebecca. “And here, surrounded by simply our families, I said more. I won’t for the next ceremony, but I will tonight.”
“How am I supposed to follow that?” Rebecca asked.
“Just follow your heart and you’ll be fine.” He itched to kiss her, but held back; he wanted that one perfect moment at the end of the ceremony. They wouldn’t kiss after the formal ceremony later, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to kiss her after this one.
“Rebecca, please repeat after me: I, Rebecca Frances Campo.”
“I know what to say, too,” she said in a small voice. “I, Rebecca Frances Campo, take you, Alexander Robert Louis Santoro, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.” Her arms wrapped around him and he wrapped his around her. “You’re my heart, my strength, and my protector. I promise to support you and love you, with each and every breath I take. You’re not perfect,” a ripple of laughter echoed through the room, “however, you are perfect for me.”
Alex tugged her closer as a series of ‘Awws’ swept the room.
“Alexander,” William said, “please take this ring which I have blessed and place it on Rebecca’s finger. Then repeat: With this ring, I wed thee.”
Alex stepped back from Rebecca and held his hand out, palm up. William placed the ring in his hand and Alex deftly slipped it on her finger and resisted bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “With this ring, I wed thee.”
“Rebecca, please take this ring which I have blessed and place it on Alexander’s finger. Then repeat: With this ring, I wed thee.”
Rebecca slipped the jewelry on his finger, its cool surface a balm to his heated skin. Some men saw the ring as a chain; to Alex, it was complete freedom. Freedom to be who he was, with the one person who mattered most. The freedom to be who he was, and to be completed accepted, was liberating. He didn’t have to hide behind a public persona with her; he was just Alex. And, for her, that was enough.
If the crown went away, she would still be there with him.
If his looks faded, she would still be there with him.
Yes, the ring symbolized their commitment, but, more than that, it symbolized their freedom to be who they were with each other.
God, what had he ever done without her?
“With this ring, I wed thee,” she said.
“As Alexander and Rebecca have consented together in wedlock, and have been witnessed doing so before this company, and have pledged themselves to each other and declared the same by the giving and receiving of rings, I now pronounce them husband and wife.”
A rush of happiness and elation filled his body.
His bride.
His wife.
Finally.
Even blindfolded, he didn’t need help finding her lips. His fingers brushed the soft satin she wore – he couldn’t fucking wait to see her in her dress tomorrow – and raced up her sleeves, gently brushing her veil and soft, wavy hair.
He cupped her face and brought it a breath away from his.
“I love you, Mrs. Santoro.”
He felt her cheeks shift as a broader smile lit her face. “I love you, Mr. Santoro. Kiss me, husband.”
“Gladly, wife.” He brought his mouth to hers just as applause and cheers broke out.
He pulled her in for a hug as they broke their kiss, and he whispered in her ear. “Let’s go to another room. An empty room.”
“Alex! We can’t.”
“Is it your period? Are you still in pain?”
“Actually, no. My period pain is much less today, it’s practically gone.”
“Then, if you think I’m not going claim you – as is my right – you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Everyone will know if we slip out.”
“Now, Rebecca.”
“Alex.”
“Now, Mrs. Santoro.”
Her fingers brushed his cheek. “I’d only ever make a fool of myself for you, Mr. Santoro.”
“No one will ever think you a fool when I’m with you, I promise you.”
“Another vow?”
“Only one of a million I’ll make to you during our lives together.”
“Alex.�
�
“I need you, Rebecca. Don’t deny me now.”
“Think of an excuse to tell everyone, and hold onto my hand.”
Alex cleared his throat. “Everyone, we’re going to practice signing the marriage documents in the other room.”
Knowing chuckles coursed through the room. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Lorenzo asked.
“Shut it,” Alex said.
“Just a little teasing, big brother.”
“I’ll remember that when your time comes.”
Lorenzo huffed. “That won’t be for a while.”
“Enough,” Gabriel said. “He’s newly married and can’t act like it until after the ceremony in several hours. Giving the newlyweds a few minutes is completely understandable.”
“Thanks, Papa.”
Rebecca pulled away from his arms and Alex sensed walk a few steps away. “Thank you, Papa.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Go on then. We’ll pop the champagne in the meantime.”
“You will not be having champagne,” Genevieve said.
“My dear–”
“Don’t even think about arguing with me. It’s not part of your diet, at least not for quite a while.”
“Surely, I can sip a toast to my son’s wedding?”
As Alex’s parents continued their argument and conversation broke around them, Alex and Rebecca snuck out of the room. Rebecca led him down the hall, and he walked carefully to avoid the train he heard sliding on the marble floors.
A door creaked open and they walked through. As soon as he heard the click of the door, he pushed Rebecca up against it.
She was already breathless. “Alex.”
His hands scrunched the silk dress as he pushed it up her legs. “Do you know how positively frustrating it is not to see my wife on our wedding day?”
“Alex.”
“To know it will be hours before I can see her clad in yards of white?”
He found the core of her. It wasn’t draped in soft satin as it had been before. She was wearing soft cotton, which she wore during her period. He rubbed his fingers over the fabric and she moaned.
“The first time I wanted to make love to my wife, I wanted to be in a giant bed with hours ahead of us.” He slipped past the cotton into her soft folds.
Royally Ever After (Royals of Valleria #7) Page 17
