The Sinful King: By New York Times Bestselling Author

by Contreras, Claire

  “It fits perfectly.” I wiggled my fingers.

  “As it should.” He kissed my forehead, and then fell into a fit of infectious laughter. “We’re getting married!”

  “We’re getting married.” I grinned so wide, my face hurt.

  Chapter 44

  Two Months Later

  Elias

  I sat down in front of the camera with a grin I couldn’t seem to wipe off my face, but as soon as the countdown began, I managed to bring my expression to a more neutral position.

  “Hello again. It brings me great honor to inform you that our efforts to make France a Commonwealth Monarchy is underway. With an outstanding show of support and great effort from the candidates from all regions, we hope to have it up and running before the year is over. My hope, as King, is to create a structural government in which every single one of you will become constituents and have your voices heard. I want you to bring forth your concerns without fear, in a peaceful way. I hope this will end the riots and disturbances that have become common. I hope this brings peace to us all.

  “Now”—I paused and took a breath, my lips turning into a smile—“for the news that I’m sure you all tuned in for. I have another announcement to make. I have asked Adeline Bouchard to marry me and she has accepted my proposal.” I paused again, laughing when the seven reporters in the room erupted in cheers. “I asked a couple of months ago, but we wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while before letting the world in on it. I hope you’ll respect that. That’s the only news I have for now. I’m going to let the reporters here ask questions while we’re live on television, which has never been done before. Please bear with me if this doesn’t go as expected.” I grinned at the camera before turning my attention to the first reporter. My mother was going to have my head for this, but I spoke about this with Pierre and Adeline, who agreed this was a good way to earn the people’s trust. Adeline, her mother, my mother, my brother, Pilar, Joslyn, Etienne, and Pierre were all in the room as I made the broadcast. Adeline had yet to come around to accepting her father back in her life, but she was working her way there slowly. He’d been apologizing to her the last couple of months and coming around more often, not solely on business.

  “May we ask Adeline questions?” the reporter asked, catching me off guard.

  “This is why doing this live may not be such a good idea.” I chuckled. “Adeline is off-limits, unless she says otherwise.”

  “I’ll answer a few questions,” Adeline responded.

  My head whipped in her direction. She was wearing a navy-blue knee-length dress that matched her ring perfectly and her hair was up in a low bun. She looked beautiful, but I couldn’t wait to mess up that hair and rip off that dress. As she walked over to me, Pierre grabbed a chair and placed it beside me. She took a seat and smiled at me before turning her attention to them.

  “I must warn you that I have not been advised on how to do this, so I may not be a very good interviewee,” Adeline said to the reporter. “But I’ll try.”

  All of the reporters laughed lightly.

  “We’ll go easy on you,” one of the women in the back said.

  “Go for it.” She straightened her posture. “I’m ready.”

  “When did you meet the King?”

  “That’s quite a story, actually.” Adeline blushed. “We met at a party right before I went off to college in the States. We hit it off right away, but didn’t see each other again until last summer.”

  “Was it love at first sight?” another reporter asked.

  “For me it was.” I set my hand on Adeline’s knee while I answered.

  “He’s just saying that because he spilled juice on my favorite blouse earlier,” Adeline quipped with a wink.

  The room laughed.

  “Will you live here in Versailles?”

  “Heavens, no,” Adeline said. “All of this opulence and open space will give anyone nightmares.”

  “Not to mention the history,” a reporter added.

  “Right. I’m not quite sure I want the ghosts of past kings to watch me while I’m in the bath,” Adeline said.

  They laughed again.

  “I know they’re ghosts, but I may have to kill them anyway.”

  They laughed louder.

  The entire interview went off without a hitch. When we’d answered enough questions, Pierre interrupted and told the reporters to wrap it up.

  “Will Adeline be joining you on your broadcasts?” one reporter asked, hopeful.

  “Maybe.” I glanced over at Addie and smiled. “She’s easy to fall in love with, isn’t she?”

  “As are you,” Addie said, smiling back at me.

  Just as the cameraman was counting down to cut the broadcast, I leaned over and kissed her lips. I could swear I heard my mother’s gasp from across the room, but I didn’t care. To hell with tradition.

  Epilogue

  “This is history in the making. This will be the first queen to have gone to college. The first queen who has no aristocratic blood. Today, we will get a glimpse of—”

  I switched the television off and let the remote control fall on the couch beside me. My nerves were shot without the journalists reminding me of what I was and what I wasn’t. Despite the media being kind to me, for the most part, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the people. My stomach growled again. The seamstress making last-minute adjustments to my gown looked up at me.

  “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat, Your Majesty?”

  “I’m sure.”

  I didn’t bother to correct the title she gave me. I’m not Her Majesty yet, though in a few short hours that would change. It was something I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to. The Queen Mother assured me I would, but she’d always been referred to as such. Pilar told me it’d grow on me. Aramis said he didn’t know who he’d be without the title. I was unlike any of them. Without a title, I was still me. I’d spoken to Elias at length about the weight of the burden having such a title carried and he also couldn’t relate to my stance on the matter. He couldn’t seem to comprehend how I hadn’t wrapped my head around the whole thing, despite my being in full-on queen training for the last eight months.

  It wasn’t the appearances or the work I was doing on behalf of the Crown that was awkward for me. It was people treating me like I was more important than them—like we weren’t equals—that I wasn’t sure I could get used to. I had the Queen Mother in one ear, reminding me not to hug people, not to kneel on the floor when I saw children I wanted to greet. In the other ear, I had my own mother, reminding me that I was a human being just like the rest of them. I looked in the mirror and let my gaze fall on the ivory gown I wore, with intricate lace details on the sleeves and bust. My hair was swept up in the front and held in place with a small tiara and a veil that would trail twenty feet behind me. My makeup was very natural. The makeup artist said it was too natural, but I didn’t care. I felt like myself. Even though my dress and tiara were not unlike the queens before me, my smile was genuine, because unlike them, I was truly marrying the love of my life, the man of my dreams, and it wasn’t for theatrics or out of duty.

  When the door swung open behind me and the Queen Mother walked in with Pilar and my mother trailing behind them, the seamstress let go of my veil and let me turn around for them.

  “You look beautiful.” My mother’s eyes brimmed with tears.

  “Like an angel,” Pilar whispered.

  “Like a queen.” The Queen Mother smiled.

  “You’re going to make me cry.” I pressed a hand to my chest, blinking rapidly.

  They all rushed over and fluffed me up just as the photographer picked up the camera and began snapping shots of us. Soon, we were ushered out. Every single aspect of this day was timed, even my bathroom breaks. We’d gone over everything for two weeks—dress rehearsals, photography rehearsals with stand-ins from the palace, food rehearsals, breaks. Every single thing that was to happen today would happen only if it fit into the sch
edule. Because it was being televised, we had no choice but to follow the timeline. Outside the palace, my father was waiting for me beside the carriage we were to take. To say it had been a long eight months would be an understatement. I had no intention of forgiving my father for shunning me and turning away from me in my time of need, but every day he kept showing up—for me, for Elias. He stopped speaking poorly of the Crown and what it stood for. Instead, he rallied behind Elias and when he didn’t agree with his choices, he spoke to him in private.

  He’d stopped taking my mother to court over the divorce settlements and paid her what they initially agreed upon. He took her to lunch and dinner and cheered her on when Pirouette was recognized as one of the best event-planning businesses in London and now France. I smiled as he walked toward me.

  “You look stunning,” he said, his eyes gleaming with tears.

  “Thank you for doing this.” I smiled.

  “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.” He kissed my hand and helped me get into the carriage.

  As we rode toward the gates, I focused on taking deep breaths. Soon, we’d be exposed for all to see, and from what we’d heard thanks to Dad’s contacts in news, they were estimating more than two million people to take the streets and watch as I rode to the cathedral. I reached for my father’s hand and squeezed it.

  “You’re perfect. You will be great.” He smiled. “On the other hand, they may throw things at us when they see me riding in here with you.”

  “Oh, my God. I knew I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.”

  “I hope you’re joking.”

  “I’m not sure that I am.” I laughed. He shook his head, grinning.

  When the iron gates opened and the horses began riding out, I held my breath. But then people cheered. It was an uproar of whistles and clapping. I let go of my father’s hand and started to wave. By the time we reached Notre Dame, my shoulder hurt from all the waving I’d done.

  “Maybe this is why they don’t hold their arms all the way up when they wave,” I said to my father. “It’s exhausting.”

  “Who doesn’t hold their arms up?”

  “The princesses and queens. You know, when they’re in public, they kind of hold their elbow to their side as they wave.” I frowned. “I think.”

  “I take it you’re nervous.”

  “What? No. Why would you say that?”

  “You’ve been talking nonstop for the last twenty-five minutes, which is fine, but waving? Really, Adeline?” He laughed. “You have no reason to be nervous. They love you.”

  “What if I’m not cut out for this job?”

  “You’ve been making appearances for the last year. You’re more than cut out for it. You’re the reason people stopped protesting. You’re the reason I stopped protesting.” He raised an eyebrow. “And that’s a tough thing for a lifelong complainer to give up.”

  I laughed and nodded. He was right. Even if I wasn’t cut out for it, I’d make it work. For Elias. With Elias. I held my father’s hand as I got out of the carriage and waved at the people standing behind the makeshift fences they’d put up around the cathedral. Butterflies swarmed my stomach as I walked to the door, and even more so as they opened them for us. I heard Michel-Richard Delalande Sinfonies, Hugo Reyne 1 playing loudly and took one last deep breath before the set of doors opened up in front of me and the music switched to a hymn played on the harp. Everyone stood as I walked, but my gaze stayed on Elias who seemed to be millions of miles away. He was wearing a large gold crown on his head and a deep red shawl over his suit. Today, I’d walk out of here with a Queen’s crown on my own head, one the archbishop would place atop my head once Elias and I said our I do’s.

  My heels tapped on the checkered marble floor as I smiled at some of the guests—Etienne and his parents, Joss and her parents, Aramis, some of my parents’ friends. Pilar, who was standing beside Benjamin Drake. I did a double-take when I saw them. When we finally reached the front, my father handed my hand over to Elias and whispered something in his ear as he patted his shoulder. Elias took my hand in his and grinned at me; it was the happiest I’d ever seen him, and the look alone was enough to wash away all of my reservations and nerves. I forgot there were millions, maybe billions watching us, and focused solely on him and this moment.

  “You look beautiful,” Elias whispered in my ear just as the priest began to speak.

  We weren’t allowed personal vows. Everything had to be by the book and we settled for the fact that we’d made our own vows to each other every single day, we didn’t need to say them aloud, especially not in public. This may not be a traditional marriage in many ways, but some things were better left alone. Besides, who was I to argue when I had this man to have and to hold every day? When it was time for us to kiss, we turned to each other and smiled so wide. Elias brought his hand to my face as he brought his closer and whispered, “I love you so much” just as our lips met.

  After the ceremony, the media was asked to step outside during my coronation. Elias’s coronation had been the first to be televised. Our wedding had been the first to be televised. My coronation, like the Queen Mother’s before me, would remain behind closed doors, for only the clergy and guests invited to the wedding to witness. The queens before us were crowned with their respective kings, or alone, behind closed doors in Sainte-Chapelle or Abbey of Saint-Denis. Elias made it so that I would be crowned during our wedding ceremony.

  Unlike his coronation, mine was to last a few minutes. They’d go through the necessary steps, give me communion again, and replace my tiara with a crown. My palms were sweating as I answered their pledge to remain faithful to my King and the country of France. It was an antiquated system, no doubt, but in the name of tradition, it served its purpose. The archbishop lifted my tiara from my head along with the veil attached to it. The crown I was to wear was brought out and I couldn’t help my soft gasp. The crown Elias wore today was gold and large, with diamonds and emeralds surrounding it and a cross sitting at the top of it. The one they were holding out to me was similar, but had golden birds and diamond leaves. It was smaller than my husband’s, but seemed to carry even more jewels than his. It had a small cross sitting on top of a big diamond-encrusted ball. I lowered my head slightly as they placed it over my head, and brought my gaze back to the archbishop as he blessed me.

  “Vive la reine.” The archbishop smiled.

  I smiled back, tears trickling down my face. I wiped them away quickly and stood when I was supposed to, this time facing my husband. He took my hand in his and led me out of the cathedral as our guests cheered for us. As the doors opened for us and security scrambled to their places, Elias led me outside, still holding my hand tightly. He put an arm up and waved, and I put my free hand up and waved, laughing as people cheered. We’d rehearsed this, but this was different. The cameras were rolling and the people were surrounding us. I could no longer pretend that this was just between my husband and me. It really was for the world to see. Elias let go of my hand and turned to me. I turned to him, still smiling but confused. This, we hadn’t rehearsed. He was supposed to kiss me and we were supposed to walk to the carriage that awaited. Instead, standing in front of millions, billions of people including those watching from across the globe, King Elias bowed to me, and loud enough for everyone to hear, he said, “Vive la reine.”

  I tried to swallow back tears, tried to remind myself that this was tradition and traditionally monarchs showed no emotion, but it was no use, emotion won and the tears trickled down my face. Elias grinned widely, straightening and bringing his hands to my face, his thumbs wiping my tears.

  “Long live the Queen. May she always be by my side, not one step behind,” he said against my lips.

  “Long live the King,” I replied just as his lips met mine and he kissed me for all of the world to see.

  Acknowledgments

  If it wasn’t for Liz Berry, it would have taken me 2 more years to finally write this story, so I need to thank her for
that nudge.

  If it wasn’t for Jenn Watson, I would have never met Liz Berry, so thank YOU for having my back!

  Hang, as usual, you’re the master.

  Sarah Sentz, thank you for always reading my work and giving me great feedback

  Yamina, without you, the French would be, as you say, “shite”

  Erica Russikoff, for your edits (and not yelling at me when I delayed. Twice!)

  Janice Owen, for your eyes and always squeezing me in!

  Nina G, for always taking my call and scheduling last minute things for me lol

  Michelle, for all of your help!

  Jan, for your incredible graphics and your excitement!

  Ashlee, for your amazing book cover trailer, and basically anything you tag me in.

  For my Crew, you girls keep me sane. Thank you for always reading. I love you.

  For my HYPE Crew, I smile whenever I see your posts. THANK YOU for always supporting me!

  My husband, who won’t read this because he’s impatiently waiting for more secret society books, thank you for having my back.

  To my kids, who can’t read this (yet), thank you for loving romance and always telling me I’m the best author ever (after Jeff Kinney LOL)

  Also by Claire Contreras

  Get The Naughty Princess (Princess Pilar’s story) - Get The Naughty Princess Now!

  The Wicked Prince (Princes Aramis’s story coming soon!) - sign up to stay in the know!

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