‘I know that and I truly appreciate all your help, Miles. With everything.’
Tia’s mum suffered from chronic fatigue and therefore her words were not mere gloss, they were valid. And that made Miles’ love even more worthy. In sickness and in health. Words Cesar planned to say soon enough to the woman standing next to him now. And again the thought made the whole plan more real, more intimate, made moisture sheen his neck.
As he followed Gabriella to the front pew to join Imogen and Queen Maria he glanced to the front where Antonio stood, upright and proud, his entire being focused on his bride. It was not Antonio Valenti’s way to show emotion, but the look in his eyes said it all for him. And again Cesar wanted to shift from foot to foot, felt inexplicably small and uncomfortable as the ceremony progressed.
Grace walked her daughter down the aisle and it was impossible now to believe this marriage was one simply of honour, when he saw the way Antonio and Tia looked at each other, the way they exchanged their vows as if each and every word mattered, love abounded in every syllable. He glanced over at Luca and Imogen and saw how they looked at each other, the way they held hands. Then of course there was Tia’s mother and the palace secretary. Everywhere he looked there was an aura of love and it was making him distinctly uncomfortable, especially when he thought he detected a hint of wistfulness in Gabriella’s smile.
For a moment he wondered if he should have swallowed his scruples and pretended to offer her love, pretended to emulate the sap and pap and sighs and giddiness. But how could that work? How could he build this union on illusion and deceit? How would he be able to sustain the illusion for decades? And he had no wish for or ability to feel real love. After all, if you’d never been shown love how could you feel it? And why give anyone that sort of power over you anyway? So better for them both to go into marriage with the same goals. That was the way to build a working relationship, a lasting partnership.
He returned his focus to the couple at the front. ‘You may kiss the bride.’
Antonio leaned forward and, oh, so gently...oh, so filled with awe, as if Tia was the most precious person on this earth, he kissed her.
Around him Cesar could hear the intake of breath, had no doubt there was a tear in the corner of every eye except his as the swell of classical music touched the air.
The now wed couple walked back down the aisle, their faces lit up, hand in hand, and soon the small congregation followed. ‘That was beautiful,’ Gabriella said and now he could hear the wistfulness in her voice, knew she didn’t mean the actual quality of the dress or the flowers. She meant the love that permeated the occasion. And that he couldn’t offer her.
* * *
Gabi admired the beautifully decorated room, one of the numerous reception rooms in Casavalle’s palace. Once again she marvelled at the décor, given how busy everyone had also been with Christmas preparations.
But it was more than that; Grace Phillips had wanted to make this
beautiful and personal for her daughter. And she had definitely succeeded. She must have spent a long time considering how to make this room different from the others and she’d done so through simplicity. The whole room was themed with green and white, the use of delicate white flowers and green foliage almost ethereally pretty. Delicate, fresh, new and somehow joyous.
Gabi looked round at the small gathering of people and swallowed the lump in her throat. Just months ago she hadn’t known these people, even that this place existed. Now she had a family. Two brothers, now a sister-in-law and soon she would be an aunt.
Her gaze skimmed to Cesar, who was chatting to Antonio, looking relaxed and smiling. This was a man who wanted her to be a wife, a mother to their children. The idea was so surreal she closed her eyes. Images hit her—of a small dark-haired boy with Cesar’s brown eyes.
‘You OK?’
She turned to see Imogen, her best friend, now also her brother’s fiancée, at her side. ‘I’m fine. Are you OK?’ She saw Imogen’s eyes rest on Tia, one hand on her belly.
‘Yes. I am happy for Tia. Truly I am. As for us, Luca says we will figure out a way to have a family if that’s what we want. But if it doesn’t work out I am more than enough for him.’ Imogen’s lips curved up into a smile. ‘And the wonderful thing is I know he is telling the truth, because I feel the same way.’
There was a twinge of envy again, but alongside it was the knowledge that it would be easier, less pressured for Luca and Imogen now that he wouldn’t be ruler. Did Cesar have a point—maybe love was more ‘affordable’, more likely to thrive if you weren’t a ruler.
Imogen’s gaze turned to Cesar and then turned back to Gabi. ‘Tell me, what is going on there? I saw the speculations in the press, but I’ve learnt to take them with a hefty pinch of salt.’
‘It’s complicated.’ Gabi could feel her skin heat and her gaze skittered away from Imogen’s blue eyes. ‘We’re just spending some time together.’
Imogen raised her eyebrows. ‘So there is some truth to the press reports.’
‘No...yes... It’s...complicated.’
‘Isn’t it always with these royal princes?’ Imogen grinned and somehow Gabi felt more grounded. After all, Imogen’s life had completely changed as well and she had never seen her friend happier. Ah. But Imogen was in love, had a fiancé who adored her. Love was not on the table here and this marriage was a negotiation, each date the equivalent of a meeting shrouded in the illusion of romance.
Before she could say any more Luca and Cesar headed over to them as Antonio tapped a spoon against his glass and once the hum of conversation subsided, he began to speak.
‘As you all know, we decided to keep this ceremony private as both Tia and I wanted something simple with just friends and family. We also decided to forgo the usual formal speeches, but I would like to briefly say how very, very happy I am. Tia means the world to me and I cannot wait to welcome our baby into the world. My only regret is that my father is not here and neither is Tia’s brother, Nathan, my best friend, who died in the line of duty. I would have been honoured to have him as my best man.’ He raised a glass. ‘To those we’ve lost.’
Gabi lifted her glass, felt the ache of grief for the father she’d never known, the mother she barely remembered except as an elusive voice, a scent, a feeling of arms around her. For her aunt and uncle who had taken her in for duty but had at least not abandoned her, had provided her with a roof, with food and a muted love. For Tia’s brother, Nathan, taken at the prime of life. Like Sophia, a life cut tragically short.
Next to her she felt Cesar move closer to her, took comfort from his warmth.
Now Tia stepped forward.
‘I miss Nathan more than I can say. But I know exactly what he’d say now. He’d want us to get on and celebrate—appreciate what we have and enjoy the moment. He would be thrilled his best friend was marrying his little sister—and I hope and believe that somehow, somewhere he does know and is giving us his blessing. I would also like to raise my glass now to my mother, who is the most loving, wonderful mother a daughter could ever hope for.’