“Oh, I want to hear more about that in a minute,” Madeline said. “But just how did American Corina Del Rey catch the heart of our Prince of Brighton?”
Stephen reached for Corina’s hand. “She loved me well. She loved me well.”
THIRTY
Cathedral City
Cathedral of David
October 19
Under a crisp blue Brighton Kingdom sky, Corina held fast to her father’s hand as they rode in an open-air, gilded black-and-red carriage, drawn by four gleaming chestnut-colored horses and accompanied by ten footmen, through the city streets swarming with well-wishers.
“The roar is so loud I can’t hear myself think,” Daddy said, laughing, his heart beating in his eyes.
Corina drew on his strength and waved at the crowd, a nervous laugh in her chest. “Their rugby prince is getting married. And it’s a national holiday.”
“Nervous?” Daddy squeezed her hand.
“Worse than the Miss Georgia pageant when my shoe broke.” Corina leaned against him. “But I’m so excited.”
“I’m proud of you, Kit.” He cleared the emotion from his voice. “Carlos would be proud but reminding Stephen he’s getting the greatest girl in the world and to treat her as such.”
She exhaled. “I feel blessed to have him, Daddy. I never stopped loving him. Even in the dark days when I thought our marriage was annulled.”
The carriage turned down the wide Rue du Roi, passing under the two-hundred-year-old royal oaks, ablaze with fall’s reddish orange.
The Cathedral of David, where Stephen was coronated officially as Prince of Brighton a month ago, awaited them, watching the avenue with its spiral peaks.
“Thank you for loving and accepting him, Daddy.” Stephen had properly asked Donald Del Rey to marry his daughter. And he’d asked forgiveness for his role in the death of their son.
A deep healing began that day in the Del Reys. They weren’t the family they used to be, but they were on the journey to the family they would become.
“What choice did I have, Kit? You loved him and Carlos gave his life for him. Plus, he’s the Prince of Brighton.” Daddy winked. “Your mother had breakfast with the Queen Mum. And her daughter is going to be a princess.” Daddy laughed. “She was born for this world. It’s like the mother ship has called her home.”
“She and Queen Campbell have several friends in common.”
“She’s healing, Corina. I’m healing.” Daddy’s voice choked up and he tapped the end of her nose, an affection that started when she was a baby. “You’ve brought us all healing and love again.”
Love well.
The carriage pulled up to the cathedral, theclip-clopof the horse’s hooves fading to a stop. At the red carpet, two footmen opened the carriage door.
Corina descended the carriage steps, holding on to Daddy, pausing to wave at the crowd, taking the time to focus, see their faces. After all, they took time out of their busy lives to celebrate with her.
At the nave entrance, matron of honor Daisy and bridesmaid Melissa waited with the royal wedding director, Tama.
“Queen Campbell and Princess Susanna are seated, and your mother just went down the aisle.” Tama handed Corina her wedding bouquet with a small locket containing a picture of Carlos, laughing, resting among the lilies. “We’re ready for you in thirty seconds . . . as soon as the music changes.”
“You look so beautiful,” Daisy said with a light embrace, tears in her eyes. “And my dream came true. You are a princess.”
“You’re beaming,” Melissa said.
“It means everything to me that you’re both here.”
In that moment, the music changed and “The Bride’s Rhapsody” began, a piece composed especially for Corina and Stephen. The stringed melody rose into the high, arched nave ceiling with notes of joy and celebration.
If she had had any reservations, it was too late now.
