Page 5 of Princess Bride Swap

Lyon watched Beaugonia’s approach. She looked lovely in white, her dark hair swept back. The dress was a bit much, but she walked under the weight of it with an elegance he had perhaps not expected of the Rendall twin who’d always been hidden.

There was a determination to the set of her shoulders as she approached, but there was something in the way her gaze darted about the large room that gave a slight air of...inner timidity, underneath all that outer strength.

This was good, he assured himself. It would endear her to the public. Confidence was important, grit to a certain extent, but the hint of something softer under all she had to be as crown princess was...intriguing. Would be intriguing, to the citizens she needed to win over.

When she finally reached him after the long walk down the aisle with soft strains of music playing, she expelled a careful breath, then turned to face him.

He’d expected to see nerves on her but was gratified by the grim kind of battle light in her hazel eyes. She knew what this was, and that was all that mattered.

The minister began with his greetings. Lyon only listened with half an ear, studying his bride-to-be. She studied him right back.

It was an odd situation. Even odder than his original arranged marriage. Perhaps because he’d gone out of his way to choose Zia, and he’d had ample time to ensure she, and her family and her kingdom would suit.

The woman before him had searchedhimout. Had left the king out of all their plans. Had been...determined. Even now, her determination to see this through was clear. Quite the turn of events from her sister who had been...wary if reluctantly willing.

Still, the identity of the sister did not matter. He would give Beaugonia all the same things he’d been determined to give Zia. A good life. A strong partnership. Children. Perhaps there would not be love or the freedom to do whatever she pleased, but Lyon was certain stability was better than all of that.

He was given the cue to agree to enter into marriage and offered a solemn “I do.” A few words later, and Beaugonia was doing the same.

“You may kiss your bride,” the minister intoned.

Her gaze flickered for just a moment at that. There were certainly some aspects of this arrangement that needed to be discussed that he had not felt comfortable putting in the emails and phone calls that had occurred in the past two days solidifying their arrangement.

But a kiss to seal the wedding ceremony was necessary and accepted, and while he and his mother might know this was a business arrangement, while Beaugonia herself might know, he wanted the whole of Divio to buy into the potential for a love story.

In other words, he wanted the photo op. So he dipped his head. He paused for a moment, waiting for her eyes to lose that wide-eyedtrappedlook about them. But they didn’t. So he leaned closer, until there was just a breath between their mouths.

“Breathe,tesoruccia,” he murmured. Low enough only she could hear. “It is only the brush of lips.”

Her breath shuddered out, and this...did something to him. He did not know how to characterize it. A strange...sensation. Effervescent and light. When for as long as he could remember his life had been about carrying the weight of what needed to be done.

He wasn’t sure he liked it, but that same responsibility demanded he not draw this out any longer. So he touched his mouth to hers. And, as he’d promised, it was only the slight brush of lips.

Nothing more.

No matter how it felt likemore. How it opened up interesting possibilities of whatmorewould need to entail eventually.

He straightened, trying to not let the wariness inside of him show on his face. Because there was...somethingthere.

Attraction, simple as that, he supposed.

He had not expected any hint of chemistry with whomever his bride turned out to be. That wasn’t the point. He wasn’t sure helikedit, but he supposed as long as it was under his control, it might be useful.

“Welcome to your new kingdom,mi principessa,” he offered.

She sucked in a deep breath, then nodded. “Thank you,mio marito,” she returned, with decent enough pronunciation of his native tongue, all in all. She had clearly practiced, which was a nice gesture. One he appreciated.

Because the newly minted Princess Beaugonia Traverso was going to be everything he needed. There were no other options.

CHAPTER THREE

BEAUSATTHROUGHa tasty if uncomfortable post-ceremony dinner. Her father had gotten uncharacteristically drunk in public, and Mother had been forced to pretend he’d fallen ill and get help to usher him away.

His angry gaze had been focused directly on her, and she supposed she would have to count herself lucky that Lyon had wanted this ceremony and dinner to be small and private before they announced their marriage to his people tomorrow morning.

Once the king was out of the room, her entire body relaxed involuntarily. Father was gone. It was unlikely he’d stay around after his behavior this evening. He’d likely be totally gone by sunup.

She was free now. Of the king and everything he’d threatened her with for so long. She wanted to simply sag and cry in relief, but that feeling was tempered by a kernel of worry.

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