His Easter Bride - Hoppily Ever After

“Probably not,” I murmur, still in awe as I step out of the dress. Amani picks it up and holds it close to her chest. “You’ll come to the wedding, right? Anna, you too,” I ask. It’ll be nice to know someone other than my family at the wedding.

“Of course, Anniekins and I will be there with bells and whistles on,” she says assuring me of the fact. As I am leaving the closet, I see Anna and Amani kissing. Well, that explains that. They are so adorable. I sneak away into the bathroom, giving them their privacy.

Once in the bathroom, I am told to strip and then practically shoved into a scented bath. The tub is huge. It looks like a small round pool sunk into the floor. It’s decadent and I immediately imagine Omar in here with me, making sinful waves.

As soon as I sit down, the water ripples and Sandalwood, White Tahara Musk Oil, and Madina Rose Oil immediately assault my senses. How did they know I love these scents? Then I think about my future husband. He probably knows every single thing there is to know about me. The two old women are moving around the room with a speed I wouldn’t have thought possible. My hair is brushed and styled as I soak in the tub.

“Out, ma’am,” one of the women says, holding open a bath sheet. I step out of the tub into the towel.

“What is your name?” I ask the woman trying to dry my feet off.

“Juliet. Now let me dry you so you don’t slip on this tile,” she says, her voice disapproving.

“Of course. Sorry,” I say letting her do her job. Is it her job?

“Now, that is done, we can chat for a moment. We are your ladies in waiting during your transition. As I said before I am Juliet, and this is Danielle. We are sure you’ll want to find some younger girls to assist you, to age with you. We were the late queen’s ladies. The Sheik thought we could assist you today.” She gestures to the chair in front of the vanity.

“How kind of you. I am sure you miss your lady” I say, sitting down.

“We do. She was lovely.” I nod, though I don’t know that for sure, but I am inclined to believe it. Only a lovely woman could raise three strong, kind sons.

“How do you normally wear your makeup?” Danielle asks, opening a large case that reminds me of a tackle box.

“I don’t wear makeup,” I reply. I never really saw the need for it; besides I have sensitive skin and I didn’t know what makeup to actually wear to minimize breakouts so I avoided it all together. Looking in the mirror, I admire the hairstyle Danielle created. It’s up in a fifties updo. It’s super curly and I love it. It’s like someone has a direct line to my Pinterest boards.

“We’ll keep it light then,” Juliet says as she gets to work on my face. When she’s done, yet again I don’t recognize myself.

I put on some white lace panties and a tiny bra that barely contains the girls. In the bedroom, Amani helps me into the dress, and I slide into a pair of white heels. To say that I am not accustomed to heels would be an understatement. I am more at home in a pair of Nikes, but somehow, I manage to make it to the chapel. My father is waiting to walk me down the aisle.

Omar kisses me as soon as I reach him. I open my mouth and he deepens the kiss, owning me. The archbishop chuckles before beginning the service. It only takes a few minutes but then I am his wife and his queen. My sheik takes my hand and we walk down the aisle to applause from a lot of people I don’t know. I see my mom’s face in the crowd, and she gives me the biggest smile.

This is it. This is the rest of my life and I can’t wait for what happens next.

Epilogue

Omar

One Year Later

Our one-year anniversary is being spent in the hospital as she brings our son into the world. I was surprised we didn’t get pregnant right away, but we did as soon as the time was right. She screams in agony as she makes her final push, but she has never looked more beautiful. Like a warrior. I watch as she sags in relief when his cries echo in the room.

“You did it, baby,” I say, kissing her. “I love you,” I murmur before stepping back. She’s released the death grip she had on my hand and her breathing has slowed back down. It’s amazing what a woman can do to bring their child into the world.

“I want to hold him,” she demands. Her midwife, Renata, chuckles, but hands him over to her gently.