Page 47 of Guarding the Princess
She takes a moment to scan the crowd, her gaze taking in every single citizen before she begins to speak. She worked on this speech for weeks, wanting it to be short, to the point, and show her people she was committed to them.
“Good people of Regora. I come to you today, not just as your new queen, but as your servant. Today is as much about me as it is about you.” Charlotte pauses, a small smile forming on her face. “I went to a street fair a few months ago, wanting to see the citizens of Regora without the royal hat upon my head. Do you know what I found there? I found happy people dancing, playing music, eating our fine foods and plenty of glogg to be shared. Children singing our traditional songs passed down from generation to generation. A generous young girl gave me a sweet bun to eat and we shared it on the street bench while watching the revelers. I bought trinkets from our vendors. Finely hewn handcrafted products made right here by you. I saw a community. One I’d been born in and taken for granted. Being gone for almost three years gave me perspective. What we have here in Regora is special and therefore should be protected fiercely. As your queen, I intend to do just that while also moving us forward as a nation able to carve out a spot for ourselves on the world map.”
Charlotte turns to look at her parents. “My mother and father have always strived to do the same. Decades of service has always been their number one priority. It is with this mindset that we kept some information from you. My beloved brother, Rasmus, should be standing here today, wearing this crown. He chose a different path in life, one that resulted in him taking his own life.”
The crowd murmurs loudly and Charlotte waits it out. I know this confession has been weighing her down, even while telling it publicly hurts her.
“While I know this comes as a shock, I ask that you understand that Rasmus was a much loved brother and son. This confession comes as a way of stopping the rumors and setting the record straight. Rasmus Isaksson was a good man, who did the best he could with the choices he had. May he finally rest in peace.”
Her hands begin to shake on the podium. I want to jump out of my chair and put an arm around Charlotte’s waist. Anything to let her know she’s not alone in this. That I have her back, always. But with loving her, comes trusting her to be strong enough to do what she must. It goes against my nature, which is to protect at all costs. To see her succeed at leading her country, I will fight against that nature and watch her stand on her own two feet.
“For the first time in Regoran history, I stand here today as your queen without a king by my side. In moving our country forward, we have decided that forcing a marriage is a tradition we must let go of, letting it drift off into the past where it belongs. This is not to say there won’t be a king by my side in the future, but he will be of my choosing and in the timing that is right for me.
“The jeweled crown sits on my head, but it is not what I’m focused on. I see you, Regora. You are what I’m focused upon. When you say your prayers tonight, say one for me. That I may lead this great country with fairness, integrity, and wisdom. Long live Regora.”
Charlotte bows her head and steps away from the podium.
The crowd is silent for just a quick moment before it explodes into cheers, surpassing all the laws for public noise levels. I suppose the Regoran police force can let this one time slide.
I can’t hold back any longer, hopping up and moving to Charlotte, my body nuzzling close to hers in a show of support. She looks at me, I look at her, and before each and every gathered citizen, she takes my hand in hers. A huge smile splits her face, mirroring the one on mine. She tugs with surprising strength, lifting our clasped hands above our heads and I lose every bit of my heart to this fierce woman.
And the crowd goes wild.
19
Charlotte
The zing of energy won’t quit streaming through my body. I’m running on a high and I don’t care to come down. The weight of my brother’s secret is gone, replaced by a lightness I haven’t felt since he ran away. The truth won’t bring him back, but it will allow the darkness overshadowing his life to finally be obliterated. He deserves that and so does my family. Amazing that the truth really will set you free.
The crowds have finally left, taking their party to the streets of downtown where palace security isn’t in full force. There’s a celebration dinner planned here at the palace for just close friends and family in our formal dining room. I’ve changed into a less formal dress and am enjoying ten minutes of peace and quiet alone in my bedroom without a single soul breathing the air next to me. It’s heaven after a day of thousands of photographs and public speeches that will be transcribed in every newspaper in several countries.
No rest for the wicked though. Not that I have wicked plans. On the contrary. I plan to ask Ryker to marry me.
Sure, it’s not traditional for the woman to ask, in my country or his, but when have I ever let a little thing like tradition stop me? I asked Father for Grandfather’s wedding ring ages ago, knowing this moment would arrive sooner rather than later. The handcrafted Regoran steel has aged well over the years, giving this ring a history I know Ryker will appreciate.
I even went so far as to call his mother last week when Ryker was busy scheduling security for today’s coronation. We’d spoken on the phone a few times before, but always with Ryker on the line too. She’d been delighted to hear from me and even more ecstatic when I asked her permission to propose to Ryker. Specifically, she said she was “tickled” and to have Ryker call her the minute he said yes. What I didn’t tell her was I’d already booked her a roundtrip ticket to see Ryker and to experience Regora. I couldn’t wait to see what adjective she’d use for those plans.
The huge chest of drawers stands there mocking me. I can give a speech to thousands of people but I’m getting nauseous thinking about grabbing that ring and proposing to the man I love. It’s quite silly and yet there it is. I’m nervous. Nervous he won’t say yes. Nervous he won’t appreciate me proposing. Nervous he’ll be mad I took that away from him.
“Good grief, Charlotte. Get a hold of yourself!” I march over and slide open the bottom drawer, nearly pulling it out of the chest entirely. The ring is wedged in the back between some winter socks and a pair of jeans I forgot I had. I pull it out and hold it up to the light, seeing the Regora crest stamped on the inside of the ring. I shove it in the pocket of my dress and run out of the room before I can talk myself out of proposing.
I don’t see the hallways or the paintings or vase after vase of flowers that have been delivered to celebrate my coronation. All I’m picturing is Ryker’s face and what our future would look like together as husband and wife. I pull up short as I realize I’ve reached the dining room without being aware of where I am. Our head butler stands to one side of the closed doors, looking dapper in a formal tuxedo.
“Have our guests arrived yet?”
I’m a bit confused. Normally, he would open the doors the moment he caught sight of me approaching. Perhaps because of today being special, he wants to open the doors dramatically and announce my arrival. Very sweet of him, actually.
“No, Your Majesty. Dinner has been moved to the patio. Follow me, please.”
Without further explanation, he spins on his heel and trots off, expecting me to follow, which I do after a moment of confusion and hesitation. Why would Mother move the dinner outdoors when she hates eating on the patio? The answer doesn’t matter though as I’m delighted to get some fresh air to cool me off before I pop the question.
The butler pauses before the double doors leading to one of the terraces off the back of the palace, which is odd because that terrace is one of the smaller ones and not nearly large enough to hold all the guests. I open my mouth to question him when he whips the doors open and steps back.
The terrace is lit up with thousands of white twinkle lights strung across the area and around the tree trunks just off the deck. A small table for two is set with all the fine china, red rose petals trailing off the tabletop and across the deck to where I stand.
And waiting there in a blue suit and open collar, looking more handsome than ever, is Ryker. His eyes are focused on me, the look I’ve become familiar with over the last few months. When he doesn’t think I’m looking, he’ll stare at me with such an intensity my heart skips a beat. He’s not hiding it now though and it elicits goose bumps up and down my arms.
“Ryker,” I whisper.
