Page 98 of Breathtaking

So for once in my life, I did.

I let him deal with the fallout because he’s the king.

The coronation may still be months away, but the crown is his.

From the moment my grandfather took his last breath until the moment Rhys does the same, that weight is his to bear. So we walk in line. Atticus, Rhys, me, and Maddox, with a row of my cousins behind us, and Sam and Amelia back at Lilihill House, keeping Brennan safe while we lay the longest reigning monarch the modern world has ever known to rest.

People have flocked to line the streets, just for the opportunity to pay their respects, and my chest tightens, knowing I’ll never see him again. Even if my heart believes I will in whatever comes next. Some people are so important in your life, I truly believe you find them time and time again. I squeeze Maddox’s hand, knowing this isn’t the first time I’ve loved this man.

The procession progresses slightly longer than one mile before we stop and watch as a white-gloved military regiment silently moves into place with beautiful precision.

It’s so hard to stand here, remembering the man who was heartbroken over my choice to go against my country and marry Maddox, instead of the one who used to let me sit on his lap on the throne when he and my mother were sitting for portraits. The one who would always sneak me an extra piece of cake when no one was looking. Or the one who came to see every single new ballet I danced in London.

And once the coffin has been taken down and the flag carefully folded, the soldiers stand still as we all observe a single minute of silence before they nod at my brother.

Rhys steps forward and places his palm on the casket before turning to Atticus and me.

Atticus follows Rhys’s lead and does the same.

I step forward and press my lips against the casket, then step back and take Maddox’s hand back in mine and wait for my brothers to walk ahead of us into the abbey, knowing when we walk out, the world will have changed.

The king may have died and passed the crown to my brother five days ago, but his burial signifies the end of one era and the beginning of another.

I avoid looking at the hundreds of people gathered, having no doubt Monty is among them, sitting somewhere with his family. He wouldn’t dare miss this. I, however, would be just fine never having to set my eyes on him again, so I keep my eyes straight ahead.

We make the long walk down the aisle of the abbey. The same walk I would have made on my wedding day if I had gone through with it. And once we’re in front of the archbishop, we all bow and sit down, side by side, with my father behind us.

It’s a statement.

A powerful one.

The three Windsor siblings side by side.

A strategic act made by my brother to show unity between his siblings and to elevate us above our father, who is seated behind us. There is no mistaking who the power lies with, and I will forever be grateful he allowed Maddox to be next to me. I’m not sure how I would have made it through any of this without him at my side.

The world saw me marry Maddox very visibly pregnant, even if they thought I was marrying another man. I wasn’t ashamed. I embraced it. Even if it meant giving up my family and my country. And I was willing to give it all up if it meant I got to have Maddox and Brennan. To be here with him beside me... it’s almost too much.

It’s more than I ever hoped could actually be.

The archbishop climbs the stairs to the pulpit, and we all sit. “It is in grief and with profound thanks we gather in this house of God to celebrate the life of a man who lived his life in service to his lord and his country...”

Choirs sing, and preachers of all denominations speak. Multiple eulogies are given, and I have to wipe my eyes several times. My heart aching for my grandfather, for Rhys, for the idea that one day the world will gather like this again, and what that could mean for us. And at the end of the ceremony, I’m reminded that nothing in this world is forever. Nothing but love.

The archbishop’s voice cracks as he brings us to our feet.

“Now let us remove all symbols of power from the coffin, so that Frederic may be committed to the grave as a humble servant.”

It’s the only time in my life I haven’t heard my grandfather’s title used.

Because it no longer belongs to him.

The golden staff of the office of the king is the first to be removed from the casket, followed by his jeweled scepter, and finally the coronation crown, which is placed in Rhys’s lap.

I take my brother’s hand in mine and hold on for dear life.

“Life is indeed short. It is going to end. But what you do with the years you’re given is the true measure of the man. Do well and live your life in service.” Then the archbishop looks at Rhys, and my breath catches in my throat, knowing what is coming. “Long live the King.”

* * *

---