He dipped her back and kissed her, deep and long and hard, not caring about who was watching. Thunderous applause brought him back to reality.
That, and Hope, who had scrambled down from Joy’s lap and clambered up the stairs to grab her mother’s white dress with both of her little hands. “Mama! Daddy!” Her eyes were wide with delight. “They’re clapping!” she shouted, and all three of them turned to face the crowd together. Felicity lifted Hope into her arms, balancing her on one hip, and Rafael took her other hand in his.
He had accomplished many things in his time as king, but this topped them all. Rafael was certain that not much else could eclipse a moment like this.
The quintet began playing the recessional music, and Rafael walked his new family back down the nave, followed closely by his brothers and Joy. The wedding party walked s
traight out of the church and into a caravan of waiting limousines, which whisked them all back to the palace for the reception. There was time to kiss Felicity once more, and then he was plunged into the blur of the receiving line. Person after person stepped forward to congratulate them, and the moments flew by. They reached the end of the receiving line in time to sit down for a lavish dinner that Rafael hardly tasted. He was too busy watching Felicity enjoy it.
Then came the music and dancing. His brothers and their wives formed a little circle with Rafael and Felicity, and he couldn’t remember another time they’d all been so joyful and playful. One minute, Felicity tugged him through the steps of a ballroom dance they’d learned in one spare hour before the wedding, and the next she was taking his face in her hands, pulling him down for a kiss that was wildly against protocol. Rafael didn’t care at all.
He didn’t know what time it was when the tug came on his elbow.
Rafael blinked down at Salem, the head of his intelligence agency. His face didn’t make sense in the context of his wedding reception.
Something must’ve been wrong.
“What is it?” He turned away from where Felicity was still dancing, Hope in her arms, and put a hand on Salem’s shoulder. “Tell me.”
“I’m the messenger,” said Salem, looking bewildered. “I don’t know why, but—”
“The message, man,” Rafael urged.
“The referendum—it went in our favor, by a landslide.” The words took a moment to sink in. “They voted for the monarchy. They want you to stay king. They want a queen—”
By the cheers going up around them, the news was already spreading through the crowd. Rafael let out a whoop and leaned over to Felicity, telling her the news.
“I’m going to be a queen,” she said, awe spreading over her face. “You did it, Rafael.”
“You’re my queen,” he said, kissing her temple, drawing her close. “And that’s what matters.”
End of The Billionaire King’s Heir