Page 94 of American Royals II: Majesty
Nina hesitated. She thought of all the things she loved about Ethan: his razor-sharp wit, his unexpected softness. The way everything felt more vibrant simply when she waswithhim.
“No,” she decided. “It’s more than that.”
Isabella shifted closer on the couch. “Then there’s really only one thing to ask yourself. Is Ethan worth it, or not?”
Was he worth it?
The press would paint Nina as even more of a villain this time. She was the woman who’d moved on from the prince to hisbest friend.The tabloids would probably claim that she was dating Ethan simply out of spite, to punish Jeff for breaking up with her. The world had already resented her, and now it would despise her.
Nina couldn’t begin to imagine the nicknames the internet would give her, once those articles were published.
She remembered what her mom had said earlier this year: that Nina should rely on the people who really knew her to stay grounded.Ethanwas one of those people now. At some point this year she’d come to lean on him, and that was worth fighting for.
He drew to a halt in the sea of people and stared down at her, evidently sensing the direction of her thoughts. “We don’t have to do this, if you aren’t ready,” he said softly.
“No.” She shook her head, causing her ponytail to slip loose. “I want to go to this wedding with you. Whatever happens, you’re worth it.”
“I’mworth it?” he said roughly. “Nina, I’m not—I don’t deserve you.”
“It’s not aboutdeserving,Ethan. This isn’t a sports game. We don’t keep tallies of wins and losses. We’re together, and I’m ready for everyone to know it.”
Relief blossomed on his features, and he grabbed Nina beneath the arms, spinning her around in a ballroom dancing move. When he set her down again, his eyes were bright. “I’m so glad that I met you.”
“You met me a long time ago,” she felt the need to point out.
“But I didn’t know you back then. I thought you were stuck-up and annoying, and impossible to talk to—”
“Is there a compliment in here?”
“—and my reasons for hanging out with you, earlier this year, were totally messed up—”
What did he mean by that? Was he talking about their journalism class?
Ethan caught her hands in his own. “What I’m trying to say is that I was wrong about you. I had no idea…” He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “I had no idea, Nina Gonzalez, that I would end up being totally crazy about you.”
Nina swallowed. “I’m falling for you, too.”
Ethan laced his hands over her shoulders, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. A few bystanders, seeing them kiss, let out low whoops of approval. Nina smiled against his mouth, leaning further into the kiss—because now, for a little while longer, it didn’t really matter.
A low, droning noise echoed through the air. They both looked up, to see a formation of military planes flying overhead in an elaborate zigzag formation. The aircraft seemed awfully low to Nina.
“Is this some sort of salute?” she started to ask, as the planes swooped still lower—and their cargo hatches flipped open. A bright floral rain fell from the sky: pink and white roses, hydrangeas, and of course cherry blossoms.
The crowds seemed to shout out in a single voice as the flowers fell on their heads, making it momentarily look like the capital had dissolved into swirling pink-and-white waves.
Laughing, Ethan drew a stray petal from Nina’s hair. “I think that’s our cue to get going.”
It was a bit disorienting, stepping from the vibrant chaos of the streets into the palace’s cool, beeswax-scented calm. Nina had hastily changed out of her shorts and into a gown, which she’d bought online last month; after the way her last dress had been mysteriously “canceled,” she no longer trusted the boutiques in the capital. The gown was beautiful, its lavender silk so pale that it almost looked silver, with a gathered neckline that showed off Nina’s bare shoulders. She’d tucked back her curls with bobby pins, but anyone who stood close would smell the sunshine on her hair.
In the crowds of people making their way through the entrance hall, Nina caught sight of Marshall Davis, dressed in a crisp tuxedo and accompanied by a couple who must be his parents. His grandfather, the current Duke of Orange—wearing the scarlet robes of his position, and a ducal coronet, made of gold with eight gleaming prongs—walked alongside them.
To her own surprise, Nina called out Marshall’s name. He looked up, startled, then muttered something to his parents and started toward her.
“Nina. Hey.” Marshall spoke warily, as if he wasn’t sure what she wanted with him; and really, Nina didn’t know either. She drew to one side of the crowds, near a massive porcelain vase.
“I just…I wanted to see how you’re holding up,” she ventured.
Marshall’s mouth curled with a hint of amusement. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself without Sam for a while. Believe it or not, this isn’t my first royal wedding. I was at Margaret and Nate’s, at the redwood grove outside Carmel—”
