Page 137 of Modern Romance Collection May 2024 Books 1-4

A whistle cut through the room.

“You look incredible,” Burak said as he walked into the room. He winked at her. “Your Highness.”

“Not quite yet,” she replied with a laugh directed at her “man of honor.” Burak had taken one look at her and Julius together and promptly forgiven her duplicity. He’d been amused by her request that he be in her wedding party, although it was a duty he had also taken seriously.

The delicate melody of a violin trickled in. Esme’s breath caught.

“Is it time?”

Joana nodded, her eyes bright.

“Are you ready?”

She’d been ready ever since Julius had slipped the ring on her finger.

She accepted her bouquet of lilies from Hanna and moved to the door. A moment later her father appeared, his silver hair combed back from his forehead. His eyes widened.

“Esmerelda...”

Her breath caught at the naked emotion in his eyes. When she’d returned to Rodina, her father had at first been coldly angry with her for deserting. Even learning that she was engaged to a prince hadn’t softened him.

But then one day she’d caught him staring at her during a formal dinner. The next day he’d called on her in the royal apartment that had been set aside for her as the fiancée of the crown prince.

“You looked happy,” he’d said, his voice rough. “I don’t think I ever saw you happy before.”

“I wasn’t.”

He’d nodded. “I’m sorry.”

It had been a new beginning for them, one that had evolved and strengthened over the past year. Her relationship with her mother was still distant. Aside from her mother’s initial excitement over shopping for a wedding dress, eclipsed fairly quickly by Esme’s insistence on using Joana as her designer, her mother had played her usual role and stayed in New York, only flying in last night to attend the ceremony.

A part of Esme would always long for something more. But then she would look around at the people she had in her life: Julius. His father, a man she still struggled to call “Francisco” or “Father” instead of His Majesty. Aroldo, Hanna and Joana. Her own father. Burak. Even the mysterious and talented Miss Smythe was in attendance for the wedding.

And she had purpose. Julius had encouraged her to carve out her own role in the palace, one that would both support Rodina but also bring her happiness. She’d accompanied Julius to an international energy summit and debated legislation on healthcare with members of Parliament. But she’d also stepped back from her fear of being shoved into a box and tried some of the community activities Julius’s cousin Vera engaged in. She’d come to enjoy serving on the board for the library, and collaborated with several local authors and a publisher to host an international literary festival the following year. Whether it would succeed in drawing in guests from Europe and beyond like she hoped remained to be seen.

But she was trying. She was doing something with her life. She was truly, deeply blessed.

The music swelled. Her father held out his arm.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

They moved into the hall and stopped outside the massive wooden doors leading into the palace chapel. A moment later the doors were flung open, revealing an aisle strewn with red rose petals. Burak escorted Joana and Hanna down the aisle.

And then she saw him. Julius stood at the altar, incredibly handsome in a black tuxedo. When their eyes met, he smiled. She smiled back, her heart nearly bursting with love. A collective sigh moved through the room, although she barely heard it.

They moved down the aisle. At last, she stood in front of Julius. He shook her father’s hand as she passed off her bouquet, then led her up the stairs to the altar.

“You’re beautiful, Esmerelda.” He raised her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles.

“It’s not quite the time to kiss the bride,” the priest said with an indulgent smile, much to the amusement of the guests.

Esme barely heard the words spoken as he grasped her hands, his eyes bright with love. When he said “I do” in a clear, ringing voice, she couldn’t stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Now you may kiss the bride.”

Julius pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers for one blissful second, and then pressed his lips to hers.

---