Page 45 of Thrones We Steal

“We don’t need to like each other to do this. We can do it because it’s right for our country,” he says.

My lip trembles and I bite it to keep it still.

“Celia Eleanor Chapman-Payne.” He pauses and his eyes grab mine. “Will you marry me?”

Will you marry me?

Eight months ago, those same words. Another beautiful ring. Another pounding heart. Another handsome man.

How can I put another man’s ring on my finger before it’s even adjusted to being bare? It’s a betrayal, but I don’t know how to survive otherwise. I must do this, and so I nod.

He slides the massive diamond onto my hand and its weight settles into my heart.

This is it then. We’re actually doing this.

He presses a chaste kiss to my knuckle, his lips warm next to the cold metal.

It’s the final seal.

I have promised to marry this man to save my country.

Does that make me noble or cowardly?

Because no matter what it looks like from the outside, I know that I never really had a choice.

My fate was determined the moment that diary was discovered.

15

“Something Just Like This” - The Chainsmokers + Coldplay

Most citizens accept governmental decisions with acquiescence.

My mother is not most citizens.

She vehemently objected to Parliament’s announcement that the wedding would take place in four weeks, on the grounds that it isn’t enough time to look at gowns, let alone have one designed.

Parliament does not have the same fear of my mother that I do.

The date remains.

After the engagement announcement was made to the public at large, the outbursts, fires, and riots stopped. I think everyone was too stunned to remember what they were so mad about before. Frankly, I was a little surprised that the women of the city didn’t start protesting the marriage of the country’s most beloved bachelor.

Maybe they know Henry is as likely to change his ways as Taylor Swift is to stop letting boys break her heart.

The riots may have stopped, but the tension is as thick as pudding. Everyone is holding their breath, waiting to see what’s going to happen. Waiting to see if Henry and I will actually tie the knot and be crowned. They say you can feel it when you walk in and out of the small shops downtown, when you stop to fill the petrol tank of your car, when eating lunch in a cafe.

Not that I do any of these things. Going into public these days requires an entire security team, and I find myself missing the marvelous times Davies, Lane, and I spent together, just the three of us. The whole entourage attracts more attention from the media and pedestrians than I want in an entire lifetime, let alone an hour of shopping. I’ll have to get used to it eventually, but for now I’m putting it in the box marked “problems for future Celia.”

The press is eating the whole thing up, and I think they could cut me some slack, considering I’ve just given them job security for the rest of their careers. They’re desperate for any morsel of information we deign to throw them, and when we refuse, they make it up. My favorite headline so far (read: can’t-decide-if-I-should-laugh-or-throw-up): Princess Celia Spotted Buying Pregnancy Test.

I’m praying Beck still avoids tabloids.

A wedding gown is the least of my concerns. I’d wear something from the rack at David’s Bridal if it was up to me, although it would likely send my mother to an early grave, and that seems unfair. She spends every minute of her day—and doubtlessly the night too—pouring over wedding details, unable to trust the crew of wedding planners hired by the Crown to do their job.

“I have prepared for this from the moment you were born,” she tells me. Unfortunately, it’s the truth. She was flatmates with Henry’s mother, Olivia, when they were at university, and while they weren’t extremely close during the first semester, when the crown prince began paying more and more attention to Olivia, you can be sure the wheels started turning in Rosalind’s head. Never one to let an opportunity slip through her fingers, she did everything in her power to ensure a lifelong friendship with the woman she hoped would one day become queen.

It worked. Her plans always do. She remained friends with Olivia even after William was crowned king upon the death of his father, only two years into their marriage. Henry once told me it’s difficult, if not impossible, to create friendships in such an isolated and unrelatable role. Olivia was grateful for Rosalind’s friendship, and I just hope my mother wasn’t scheming every minute they were together.

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