his five brothers, a family I hardly know, strikes a chord that I feel deep in my bones. I can’t mourn it now, not while there are hundreds of cameras pointed at my face. My five fake bridesmaids, dressed in pale gold, smile at me as I approach the altar.
God, there he is.
The king sits on a throne above the altar. He wears a thick robe emblazoned with the Anglefell coat of arms even though it’s mid-May. His pale lips crease together as he stares down at me.
“We are gathered here today…”
The speech is more or less the same thing I’ve heard before. It’s hard to concentrate while the man I’m about to marry looks at me with so much adoration that I’m honestly fooled for a second. I know it’s an act for the cameras. Perhaps they’ll attribute my ghostly complexion to nerves.
Oh God, he’s saying something.
He takes my hand, slipping the ring over my finger. “With this ring, I pledge to you my eternal love. I will cherish and honor you, in sickness and in health…”
Then it’s my turn. I’m supposed to take the ring and vow to love a man for the rest of my life. It’s just a sham, I think, avoiding the priest’s solemn gaze. The words tumble from my mouth, and Liam’s face cracks with a brilliant smile. Suddenly, his hands are wrapped around my face and his mouth crushes mine. Then I realize I didn’t even hear the priest say we were married. It runs through me like a silent howl. Married.
Now the coronation.
I curtsy before the king as he climbs down from his throne and takes a brilliant crown from a cushion one of his guards hands to him. It’s the most amazing piece of craftsmanship I’ve ever seen. It’s delicate, as though I could break it with my hands, but I’m surprised by the weight of it on my head.
“Is Your Highness willing to take the oath?”
The church falls silent as every person in the room watches me. The vow.
“I am. I swear to govern the people of Anglefell according to their laws and customs. I promise to be merciful in my judgments. I will—”
Fuck what’s the rest of it? Liam mouths a word: church.
“I will do the utmost to maintain the laws of God. The things which I have here promised, I will perform and keep. So help me God.”
I lift my head, the crown digging into my scalp like a bird’s claws as the room erupts into cheers.
Just like that, I’m a fucking princess. I won’t deny it feels kind of cool to hold Liam’s hand and walk down the aisle. The people rain praise as we walk toward the bright sunlight. Liam grips my hand, but I can’t really feel his fingers.
Children holding bowls of water form rows on both sides as we walk outside. They dunk their fingers in the water and splash us with it. Liam warned me about this part. It’s some sort of baptism with their seawater. A fine mist sprays my face, and I wince as a salty droplet lands in my eye.
“Jesus. It’s in my eye!”
“Don’t worry, I have better aim.”
“For shit’s sake, Liam.”
The crowd goes apeshit when they see Liam and me wearing our crowns. They scream out my name. Some girls openly sob as they watch us walk toward the car because I guess Prince Liam’s finally off the market. I look around the square and spot the giant tub of t-shirts I asked for.
“Hold on a second,” I yell into his ear.
I break from his side and bend into the tub, almost forgetting I’m wearing a likely-five-million-dollar crown on my damn head, and I grab a fistful of t-shirts.
“Who wants one?” I bellow at them.
“Me!” People cup their hands around their mouths, screaming. “Me!”
I chuck t-shirts into the crowd, and they grab them out of the air triumphantly. I figure being a princess is just like being a rock star. All I need are t-shirt guns to make the people love me. Well, no, but a few acts of kindness never hurt anyone.
Liam unrolls a t-shirt, looks at it, and laughs.
“Me! Liam! Me!”
“I want the one he touched!”
The energy of the crowd surges as Liam lobs the first shirt into the spectators. A man snatches it out of midair, and from here I can see it’s a size too small, but he’s ecstatic. “The prince touched it!”
And suddenly my great idea becomes hijacked by Liam as he passes them