The Prince's Scandalous Wedding Vow

Her eyes welled with tears. “Let me go.”

“No.” Never.

“You don’t need me—”

“But I do.” Always.

“Those are just words!”

But words didn’t come easily to him, either.

What he longed to do was take her in his arms. He wanted to hold her and comfort her, but his own control was being tested. He was battling to keep it all together. He hated what was happening to them, and yet there were bigger things than their own personal drama.

“We will get through this,” he added quietly. “I promise.”

“You disappoint me,” she whispered, averting her face.

He flinched but said nothing.

She blinked hard, adding, “I kept thinking we had a shot at making a marriage work. I thought that there was something real between us. But I was wrong. There is no us in your world—there is just you. It’s your world, your title, your future...not mine. It was never mine.”

She was wrong. There was an us, but he didn’t have the energy to argue, and so he stopped focusing on Josephine’s words, unable to take them in. He’d been mocked for his feelings as a boy. He’d been brutalized in the boarding school by other boys because he’d dared to care...to hurt.

In the navy, he’d been drilled to be tough. Feelings, once again, had been shameful. They made a man weak when he needed to be clearheaded and logical and strong.

So no, he wouldn’t feel her pain, and no, he wouldn’t let her words register because it would do no good. Her pain and disappointment would change nothing.

His father was dying.

The country would need a new king.

His mother would be widowed and displaced.

Alexander needed to do now what he’d been raised to do. Shoulder the weight of Aargau. Do right by the crown. Honor his father’s memory and name.

He didn’t know why he’d been on the yacht near Khronos, and he didn’t know what had happened on that yacht or why she’d been there to save him, but it had happened and they were now here, and everything was about to change.

Josephine might not like what was happening, but she’d rise to the occasion. He knew she would. Just as he’d known she’d do the right thing by their child.

Josephine understood honor. And in her own way, she understood responsibility and duty. She’d be an excellent queen one day. He just wished the path could be less painful.

“You can return to Khronos after the wedding,” he said. “You can take some time once we’re married. I will speak with the security—”

“No. Not after. There is no after—”

“Josephine, stop for a moment. Think carefully, please. Look at the bigger picture, if you can.”

“You mean you and what you want?” she flashed bitterly.

He ground his teeth together. She didn’t understand that he was trying to do the right thing now, which was give his father peace of mind so King Bruno could let go of this life and the pain racking his body. Because his father wouldn’t let go, not if he believed the family was in crisis.

His gut hurt. His throat felt thick. Alexander forced the words out because they were not easy to speak. “My father is a fighter. My father has lived his life for his country and his duty. But he’s in constant pain, terrible pain, and he’s ready to go. The only thing he lives for now is seeing us married. But if that doesn’t happen, he’ll try to cling to life, which will only increase his suffering. We must protect him from pain. He mustn’t think we are in crisis. He needs us to be strong, cara. I need you to be strong. I am sorry I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry to have disappointed you, but consider him. Consider my mother. They need us to show courage and leadership now. They need to know the monarchy isn’t in crisis and that you and I are unified and committed to Aargau.”

She stood utterly still, chin lifted, eyes shimmering with tears. She stared at him so long he could see the pulse beating at her throat and the faint quiver of her lips.

Anger blazed in her eyes. Hurt created shadows, too.

“I wish you’d never come to Khronos,” she said at last, her voice hoarse. “I wish I’d never seen your yacht anchored in the cove or watched you and your friends on my beach. I wish I had amnesia. I wish I could blank out the entire thing so I didn’t have to remember it, either.”

He winced inwardly. They were sharp words and they pricked, like shards of glass scraping across his skin.

“I thank God every day because you are what I woke to,” he answered gruffly. “I thank God that you were there, grateful that you are here. We will get through this. We are a strong family, and you are part of us now. There is no crisis here. You are hurt and upset, but you belong here. You belong with me. There is no running away. We are out of options and out of time. We will do what needs to be done. You and me, together.”

She looked away, her pale throat working, her eyes blinking as she tried to contain her emotions. She’d been through a great deal in the past twenty-four hours, but they couldn’t give up now. His father needed peace. The wedding would go ahead as planned, and eventually all would be well. Storms passed, skies cleared. Josephine would get pregnant again, and there would be a royal heir; Alexander didn’t doubt it, which was why he could walk out of her room and go to his father’s side and assure him all was well and they were looking forward to the wedding on Saturday.

CHAPTER TEN

HE DIDN’T WANT the truth, and he didn’t want her emotions. He didn’t want her to feel.

So she wouldn’t feel. And she wouldn’t care about him any longer. She’d do her duty. She’d marry him and stand at his side and fulfill the obligation, and then she’d leave.

She’d return to Khronos and stay there, not for a visit but until her father took a new position with the foundation and was sent elsewhere. She’d go where he went and continue assisting his work. She’d lose herself in the work, and the idea of going somewhere pleased her. She imagined a return to Washington State, or possibly Peru, or maybe even to Mount Etna in Sicily because she’d never feel the same about Khronos. Alexander had ruined it for her.

On Saturday morning Josephine was numb as her staff dressed her. The wedding was a late-morning service, designed to accommodate King Bruno as he was at his best in the morning and wouldn’t be too groggy from the heavy-duty pain medicines he took at noon.

Josephine’s gown looked like something from a fairy tale. She was reminded of Cinderella at the ball, except her dress was white, with a big tulle skirt, a sweetheart neckline, and an impossibly long train. Her long sleeves were sheer and her lace veil was attached to a delicate tiara, the veil as long as her dramatic train.

The hairstylist curled her hair and left it down in long, loose curls, and the makeup artist took forty minutes trying to cover Josephine’s pallor and make her look fresh and dewy instead of heartbroken.

Her ladies escorted her down the stairs to the palace front steps where a special carriage waited. Her father stood next to the carriage in his formal wear looking nervous, and yet his expression cleared as he caught sight of her. “You look so lovely, Josephine,” he said, reaching for her hands and giving them a squeeze. “And so very much like your mother. I wish she could be here to see you. She’d be so proud.”

Josephine was glad now she hadn’t told him about losing the baby, or her anger, or the fact that she’d soon be returning to Khronos. She’d give him this moment. He deserved the moment. “I think Mama is here,” Josephine whispered.

Her father wasn’t a sentimental man, but his eyes glistened. “She wanted the best for you, but I’m sure she never imagined you here, about to become a princess.”

Josephine couldn’t answer and was grateful when the royal page opened the carriage door, and her father assisted her up the steps. Her ladies lifted her skirt and long lace veil, and then they were seated together and the door clos

ed. The carriage was off.

The ride to the cathedral on the square should have been short but crowds had lined the sides of the street, hundreds of people, no, thousands, coming out to witness Josephine dressed to marry their prince. They cheered for her, time and again, and she blinked repeatedly, fighting tears, touched by the cheers and the shouts of Princess Josephine! Princess Josephine! not expecting such a welcome.

The cheers and nerves all became a blur once she reached the cathedral. Her ladies were there again, somehow making it to the square before the carriage, and once again they straightened her dress and veil and handed her flowers from the carriage, flowers she had somehow missed before.

The walk down the cathedral aisle was endless. Sunlight poured through the tall, arched stained glass windows. The soaring ceiling provided the perfect acoustics for the organ. She knew the classical piece being played. It was Mozart. Her mother loved classical music. The thought gave her comfort as she approached the altar. She spotted Alexander there at the very front, standing next to the robed priest. He was dressed in his Royal Navy uniform, the jacket black, the thick shoulders covered with ropes of gold. He had medals across his chest, and with his black hair combed severely back, he looked tall and powerful, virile and handsome.

Part of her thrilled that he was hers, and another part couldn’t forgive him for not loving her. Today should have been joyous, not a duty to be borne.

Reaching his side, her father placed her hand in Alexander’s and then stepped back to take his place in the front pew.

She felt Alexander’s gaze bore into her but she wouldn’t look at him. She just wanted to get the service over and the formalities completed so she could take this gorgeous fairy-tale dress off and remove the delicate, sparkling diamond tiara—a tiara she’d been told was worth millions of euros—because although she was marrying Alexander, she hadn’t grown up on fairy tales and she no longer wanted to be his princess.

* * *

The drive back to the palace was stiff but not quiet as the crowd chanted their approval, the cheers like thunder as Alexander traveled in the carriage with Josephine.