—The Chamber Office
Let’s end here…
Gemma
December 14th
Port Fressa, Lauchtenland
“Hurry.” Her hand clasped her husband’s of ten hours as she led him down Queen’s Avenue toward the moving lights of the Heart of God. “The clocks are about to strike.”
“Darling, it’s almost midnight and freezing. We have a nice suite waiting for us with a crackling fire.”
“I know, so get a move on.” Gemma put her head down against the chilled breeze and stretched her stride against the skirt of her nineteen-twelve mystical, wonderful, divine wedding gown. “This won’t take long.”
“Why are we reenacting a fairy tale? I had something else in mind for our wedding night.” He reached for her waist, but she twisted beyond his grasp.
“You’re the one who believes in fairy tales.”
“Yes, and I have my Swan Princess.” He caught her this time and pressed a cold, sweet kiss to her lips. “What’s this all about?”
As he tapped his forehead to hers, a gust of wind brought a swirl of thick snowflakes. Gemma raised her face to the icy droplets.
Maybe she was making too much of it, but she wanted to return to the place where she’d ended their fairy tale last August. Where she chided him for seeing meaning in a feathered gown.
“The Heart of God,” she said, moving through and into the lights. “Where I first turned you down.”
“Is that why we’re here?” John flipped up his coat collar and followed her farther into Heart. “Should I expect some sort of apology?”
“You should expect this.” She retrieved the long necklace box from her coat pocket, shivering when an icy gust slipped in and around her neck.
John gave her a curious glance. “I don’t understand. This is the box I found in Holland’s closet. The one with the necklace.”
“Open it.”
“I’m not going to find a rather large and ostentatious diamond, am I? Are you confessing some insider trading, conspiracy entanglement?”
“John, darling, love, honey, babe, you ask too many questions.” They’d grown accustomed to the string of pet names. Like some sort of royal moniker. If a future king had four legal names, why not four terms of endearment? “Just look.”
Removing his black leather kid gloves, he raised the lid. Inside was one large white swan feather.
“Darling, you’re giving me one of my feathers?”
“I’m giving youmyfeather. I didn’t make the connection until I came over before the wedding and saw the two on your bureau. You told me Emmanuel said there were three feathers. I knew I had the third. You see, after Adelaide visited me, that feather was on the mezzanine floor. This fairy tale may not have a glass slipper, but it has three feathers.” She brushed her hand over his wild, thick hair. “You rescued me, Prince.”
“You rescued me, Princess.”
Gemma stepped into her husband’s arms. “I promise you here and now, in the Heart of God, I have no secrets. I’ve no back room deals, and pray God, no more salacious videos. You’ve seen the worst of my past and loved me anyway. I will always love you and admire you, be honest with you and serve with you.”
When she raised her gaze to his, tears brimmed in his eyes. “Emmanuel saved us both.”
“God with us.” She’d heard the story from the queen, from Prince Gus and Princess Daffodil, from the Belly of the Beast proprietor, Ernst. From Prince John. Even from Adelaide.
“Today we had a grand wedding with all of Lauchtenland celebrating but—”
“Music, dancing, confetti in the streets.” A long strand of blue and red paper twisted past them.
“The Lauchtens have embraced you, my love.”
