Page 117 of Royal Affair
We dined on fresh seafood and local wine as the stars emerged overhead. Evangeline told me about her plans for education reform, her eyes lighting up as she described new programmes for underprivileged children. I shared stories about the farm, about summers spent learning the rhythms of rural life that had kept me grounded through years of military service and corporate ambition.
"I want to bring you here every summer," I said as we finished the last of the wine. "Away from protocols and cameras and the weight of the crown. Just us."
"That sounds perfect," she said softly. "Though I suspect your grandmother will spoil me terribly."
"She already adores you. I could tell the moment she met you."
Evangeline smiled, reaching across the table to take my hand. "She reminds me of you, you know. That same protective instinct, that same way of seeing straight through to what matters."
The moment felt perfect—the stars above us, the gentle sound of waves on sand, this woman I loved more than life itself smiling at me in the candlelight. I stood, my heart hammering against my ribs, and walked around the table to kneel beside her chair.
"Evangeline," I began, pulling the ring box from my pocket with hands that weren't quite steady. "Three weeks ago, I nearly lost everything that mattered to me. Not because of the bullet, but because I'd been too proud, too afraid to fight for what we had."
Her eyes filled with tears as I opened the box, revealing the ring I'd chosen—a simple but elegant solitaire that caught the candlelight like captured starfire.
"I don't want to waste another moment being afraid," I continued. "I love you, Princess. I love your courage and your compassion, your terrible sense of direction and your stubborn streak that rivals my own. I love the way you make me want to be better, to be worthy of the trust you've placed in me."
"James," she whispered, tears spilling over.
"Marry me," I said, my voice rough with emotion. "Not because of duty or protocol or what anyone else expects. Marry me because you love me and I love you and life's too precious to spend it apart."
"Yes," she said without hesitation, launching herself into my arms with enough force to nearly knock us both into the sand. "Yes, yes, of course yes!"
I slipped the ring onto her finger with shaking hands, then kissed her with all the joy and relief and overwhelming love threatening to burst from my chest.
That's when the cheering started.
We broke apart, startled, to find figures emerging from behind the rocks near the beach path. Spencer appeared first, grinning broadly and applauding, followed by Laura, her pregnant belly prominent even in the evening light, and a grinning Maya. Rupert whooped with joy, while Andrew appeared more composed but no less pleased. Veronica was crying and laughing simultaneously, and even my parents had somehow materialised, my mother dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
"Surprise!" my mother called out, her voice bright with joy as she emerged from behind the rocks. "Did you really think we'd let you propose without support?"
Spencer appeared beside her, raising a bottle of champagne with a rare smile that transformed his usually serious face. "Congratulations, brother," he said simply, but the warmth in his voice said everything.
"Laura coordinated everything," Spencer explained, popping the cork with a satisfying thud. "Flights, accommodations, making sure Nonna had enough food to feed an army. Your fiancée might have mentioned her preference for intimate family celebrations."
I looked at Evangeline, who was beaming despite the tears streaming down her face. "You knew?"
"I suspected something was up when your grandmother kept smiling mysteriously all day," she admitted. "But I didn'tknow about this." She gestured to our assembled family, now converging on us with congratulations and embraces.
The next hour passed in a blur of champagne toasts and tearful hugs. Laura produced a camera from somewhere, insisting on documenting every moment. My mother pulled Evangeline aside for what looked like an emotional conversation, while my father clapped me on the back with enough force to rattle my teeth.
"You did good, son," he said gruffly. "She's perfect for you."
"She's perfect," I said gruffly, watching Evangeline laugh at something Rupert had said. "Still can't believe she put up with my bullshit long enough to say yes."
"Your bullshit is part of your charm," Andrew said dryly, appearing at my elbow with champagne. "Though I'm fairly certain she saw through your noble sacrifice routine from the beginning."
"It wasn't a routine?—"
"Course not," Andrew smirked. "Just like how you 'accidentally' kept finding excuses to check on her security detail every five minutes."
I was about to tell him exactly where he could shove his observations when Apollonia appeared beside Andrew, looking politely bored despite the celebration around us.
"Congratulations, Mr. Banks," she said with professional courtesy, though I caught the slight eye roll when Andrew wasn't looking. "I'm sure you'll be very happy."
"Of course you can," I said, scooping her up for a hug. "We'll need someone to keep everyone in line."
"I'm very good at that," she informed me solemnly. "Mama says I'm bossy, but in a good way."
