Coup D'etat (The Alpha Prince) Book 3 (9 page)

I watch the Prince fall to one knee. Oh my God! I begin to hyperventilate. He takes my hand and looks up at me. “I would risk anything to keep you by my side. I would fight them with my sword, with my fist, and with my very soul. You have made the last month the most incredible, exciting and exhilarating month of my life. For ten years, I have been a Prince without a Princess. Upon the rock that my ancestors hold most sacred, I ask that you join me in eternity.”

Tears stream down my eyes as the Prince reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. He opens the box and offers me a ring that I can barely see through my tears. I nod and say, through quivering lips, “Yes.” Prince Julian puts the ring on my finger and begins to stand up.

As the Prince rises to his feet, my legs become wobbly. He catches me. We both fall on to the rock in a full embrace. The Prince wipes the tears from my eyes. As I regain my focus, a large wave crashes onto the rock, splashing water on both of us. My crying turns to laughter as we hold each other and kiss. The Prince holds my hands and says, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

“From now on, call me Julian.”

“Thank you,” I say with a pause, “Julian.”

I look at the ring on my finger. My brain doesn’t even know how to process this. The Prince and I sit up at the edge of the rock and hold each other’s hands as we look into the sea. My initial joy turns to trepidation as the reality of marrying the Prince of Mondorra begins to sink into my brain.

Julian puts his arm around me. “I know what you are thinking. And yes, you are ready to be a Princess. The people have always loved you. It’s just that they are very protective of their Prince. They will soon embrace you as one of their own,” Julian says as he does his best to comfort my trepidation. I put my head on my new fiance’s shoulder. We don’t say much for the next hour. We just watch the sea, holding each other’s hands.

We walk back to the Palace. I look at Julian. I look at the ring. My head is still spinning. “News will spread fast,” Julian says. “Be prepared for the media craziness.”

“I can’t imagine how much crazier this day could get.”

“We are going to have a royal wedding in Mondorra. It will be the equivalent of New Year’s Day, the Superbowl and the World Cup Final all wrapped up into one,” my fiance explains to me.

As we approach the Palace, Julian tells his estate manager, “Call a meeting of the Palace Staff in the Grand Ballroom.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the Manager says as he hurries off.

I imagine Julian does not call a meeting like that so often. I get nervous. Then I quickly remind myself that becoming the wife of a Prince will require standing in an intense spotlight. I just keep repeating the following word to myself, “Poise, poise, poise.”

We walk into the palace. Julian slows down his walk to a casual stroll. “As Princess, one of your duties is to design the interior of the Palace. I hope you are ready because there are over two hundred room here.” Design a palace?! I had a hard enough time shopping at Ikea for my apartment bedroom.

“Wow. Where would I start?!” I ask.

“That’s the fun part. You can travel to Paris, London, Hong Kong and New York. Better yet, you can have the decorators, art dealers and furniture designers come to you. Oh, and you will also get the most enviable jobs in Europe. You get to decide who gets invited to the Palace parties and Gala. Get ready to have a lot of blue bloods kiss your ass.”

I laugh. I guess being the Princess of Mondorra is going to be full of surprises.

We walk towards the Grand Ballroom, an immense space dominated by four massive chandeliers hung from an eighty foot ceiling. Before we get there, Julian and myself can hear the murmuring of the staff gathered in the immense space. All I can think is that, “Damn, the palace manager was able to get everyone gathered rather quickly.” As the Prince walks into the Ballroom, we hear the Palace manager proclaim, “Ladies and Gentlemen, His Royal Highness, the Prince.”

Julian and I enter the room. The staff of two hundred bow before their Prince. Julian walks into the middle of the human semicircle and returns the bow. The Prince looks at his staff and proclaims, “I would like you, my excellent and loyal staff, to know first. I have asked for the hand of Miss Amy Rousseau in marriage. And she said, ‘yes.’” The staff erupts in cheers which brings me to tears.

“Amy and myself will formalize the plans for the wedding which will then be passed along to you. A formal press release will be disseminated within the hour,” Julian says. The staff returns to work. I am so emotional right now that I can hardly stay on my own two feet. Julian suggests that we go to the courtyard and relax with a celebratory bottle of Champagne.

We sit down in the courtyard and enjoy a quiet time together. Soon after the press release is sent out, Julian shows me all of the media reactions on an iPad. Much to my surprise, all of the news is really positive about the engagement. There may have been one of two blogs who made a snarky comment about an “LA girl” marrying the “World’s Most Eligible Prince.” Otherwise, the press is genuinely happy for us.

Julian and I walk back into the Palace. The Head of Palace Security runs up to the Prince and says nervously, “Your Highness, we have about fifty-thousand people at the gates of the palace.”

Julian looks at me and say, “Let’s go give them a show.”

I don’t know what they means. Julian leads me up a set of stairs. “This is the way to the Grand Balcony of the Palace. This is where the Prince, or the Royal Couple, appears before the people.”

Now my heart is jumping out of my chest. As we reach the top of the stairs, I can hear the people calling out for us. The staff stand before a set of ten foot double doors. One of the servants puts a Royal Coat and Sash on Julian. My fiance winks at me and says, “Ready?

”

I nod, “yes.”

The doors open. We walk out together. The crowd cheers. Julian waves. I wave. They wave back. Ten of thousands of hands wave back at us like good friends. Julian turns to me and says, “I love you, Amy.”

“I love you, Julian,” I say to my fiance.

We kiss. The crowd cheers, “Love live the Prince. Long live the Princess.”

Long live Mondorra.