Royal Icing - Aven Ellis Page 0,157

I have to ask you, because I do love you so much, are you sure about this? Because if you say yes, if you want to be with me, I will marry you one day. You will be entwined in this world forever if you say yes. But if you are utterly mad, if you do say yes, I promise that I will try to protect you the best I can. That I will be your partner in life. That I will love you passionately and fiercely like no other man can. Now I’m going to ask you. Poppy, will you come back to me? Will you be mine not just now, but forever?”

“I will,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I want nothing more than to love you forever. No matter what world you live in, no matter how hard it gets, I want to be in it. And that’s only because it’s where you are. You make everything worth it. Only you.”

Xander frames my face in his hands, drawing me to him. Then his mouth drops on mine, kissing me gently as the rain continues to fall. He tastes of this rain and mint, and warmth floods me as his tongue lovingly explores the familiar recesses of my mouth, and I kiss him back the same way.

We kiss amongst the yew, hidden in our own secret world between these hedges. And I know this will be a special place for us for the rest of our lives.

Finally, Xander breaks the kiss. “I love you, Sunshine.”

Suddenly, the green of the hedges becomes even greener. The colour that was missing from my life has fully returned to my world with Xander’s presence.

My own sunshine is back, filling my body with warmth.

With love.

“And I love you, Xander Wales,” I say, winding my hands around his neck. “And no matter what title you have, you will always be Xander Wales to me.”

He removes my hands from the back of his neck and then pulls me up with him. “We should go inside, you’re soaked.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care. I want this time with you.” Then I study his face, this face of the man I will spend the rest of my life loving, and notice smudges of dirt on his cheek. “What were you doing out here?”

Xander grins, and my heart beams at the sight of it.

“I was shovelling compost around rose bushes. I took over for one of the gardeners, who about fainted when I insisted I wanted to do it. I was so damn mad at my father for telling me I had to stay here.”

I grin wickedly at him. “You do know I’m the prime minister, right?”

Xander’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

I laugh. “Arthur wanted to make sure I was all in before you went running after me.”

“He’s getting meddlesome in his old age,” Xander quips.

“Arthur is a good man. I can see where his oldest son gets his excellent qualities from.”

“How many excellent qualities do I have?” Xander asks, a teasing glint entering his eyes.

“Why don’t you show me around this maze, and I’ll tell you,” I say.

Xander and I begin to walk, his strong hand wrapped around mine.

“You better begin,” he says. “There might not be enough maze to go over all my incredible attributes.”

I burst out laughing. “I’ve just taken modesty off the list.”

A low chuckle escapes his lips, and my body delights with happiness at the sound.

“I’ll work on that one. Now name one.”

“I love your heart,” I say honestly. “Nobody can love me like you do.”

Xander stops walking and gazes down at me. “No, nobody ever can.”

And as his mouth claims mine, I know this is true.

We might not live the fairy tale the world expects of a royal couple, but this is our story. We are writing it our own way, together, as partners. We’re straying from the expected plot lines and creating a modern version of the fantasy.

We are writing a love story that is uniquely ours.

And that is the perfect fairy tale, I think happily.

Epilogue

Friday—26 April

St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle

I step outside into the bright sunshine, pausing for a moment to drink in this moment. Wisps of clouds decorate the brilliant blue sky like candy floss. The weather is perfectly lovely—warm, but not too hot and not too cold. A light breeze comes across every now and then, punctuating this beautiful spring day.

And it’s an absolutely perfect day for a wedding.

I stare ahead at St. George’s Chapel, knowing there

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