Chapter 6

six

ALEXANDER

A lex straightened the top of his dress military uniform, stretching his neck to help it settle into the stiff half-collar. It never crossed his mind it wouldn't fit him, so he hadn't gotten it altered, and it was going to be a tight fit all around. Was he simply getting older? He'd been building up more muscle, so maybe that was why it fit differently. Or perhaps it was because he was a different man now than he was when he first—or even last—wore this uniform.

As he glanced at his reflection and kept adjusting various parts of his outfit, he second-guessed himself. When he was in the army, every part of the uniform was second nature. Yet now, years later, he had to think whether to wear his sword or not, or whether to wear these medals or those instead, and so many little things. There were so many rules to an army uniform, and he had to double-check he was doing everything correctly.

Things had been easier the last time he'd worn it, on his wedding day, as he'd used a valet to help dress him. He should have thought of using one today. Something else he'd missed or forgotten to do. He had to do better now that he was going to become king.

The last time he wore this uniform was a happy occasion, yet today was a sad one: his grandmother's funeral.

After a few last adjustments, he grabbed his gloves, hat, and a small jewelry box, and left his dressing room and headed for his wife's. He heard her gentle voice murmuring to her lady's maid, so he paused outside instead of going straight in. "Darling?"

"Yes, come in."

He entered and caught sight of the maid exiting the opposite way into the adjoining closet.

Rebecca turned this way and that in front of the mirror, then turned to face him. "All right?"

"You look lovely, as you always do." She was dressed perfectly for the occasion in a knee-length, long-sleeved, boatneck black dress, black hose and heels, her hair in an elegant coil, and a wide-brimmed black hat already secured on her head.

"Lovely isn't enough today. So many people will be watching, and I need to be perfect."

"Well, in that case, you'll need these." The jewelry box made a soft crick as he opened it and glanced down at the glittering diamond and amethyst earrings, then handed the box to her.

"Oh, Alex." She put one hand to her chest as she grasped the box with the other.

By this point, Rebecca had seen all the jewels in the royal collection, and had worn quite a few herself at various events since they'd first become engaged. But these weren't in the royal collection, as he'd kept them with his things since they were given to him.

"Nonna and Mama gave them to me. Nonna had been given them by her mother-in-law, who'd been given them by the former queen and so on for several generations. Mama received them after Cat and I were born, but she rarely wore them. When you and I married, Mama gave them to me to save for you. They're traditionally given to the queen after the birth of an heir, but… "

He cleared his throat. "But I thought you may want to wear them today, to honour Nonna instead, and update the tradition slightly. She wore them often, and people associate these earrings with her, more than they would as royal family heirlooms."

She brushed her thumb over the cluster of three diamonds and single amethyst, and she pressed her lips together.

He suddenly wondered if he'd been wrong to give them to her today, or to share their history. One loss could remind her of another, after all, and mentioning the baby, even tangentially, may have been a mistake.

Yet his amazing, wonderful wife wasn't fazed in the least.

"They're beautiful. Thank you, Alex. I'd hug you but…"

"But we can't risk our outfits, I know. I'll collect that hug later though."

"Can't wait." She stepped closer and pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to his lips. "Put them on me?"

"Of course." He put down his hat and gloves, caressed her neck for a moment, then removed her current earrings—simple pearl drop earrings, a gift from one of his sisters if he was remembering correctly—and replaced them.

"I'll have to let Mara know. People will ask and the press releases should be correct."

He nodded. The press always asked about her clothes at events—misogyny was alive and well in the press—and he didn't doubt it would also hold true for the funeral. No matter how much they called out the double standard, it never went away. "Call her, then we should leave."

She nodded and reached for her slim black purse, pulling out her black gloves first, then her phone. He grabbed his things and stepped out into their bedroom, taking one last look in the mirror as he waited for her. He pulled on his right glove, tugging it into place and stretching his fingers to loosen it up. He did the same with his left glove, then secured his hat.

He heard her soft heels, then saw her reflection in the mirror beside him, and she slipped her gloved hand into his.

"Ready?" she asked and squeezed his hand.

He lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of her gloved hand. "As I'll ever be."

She smiled at him in the mirror, then turned and led him out of the room.

Now for one of the longest days of his life.

GAbrIEL

Gabriel took his place and looked back to watch his sons file into place behind him. His gaze lingered on Lorenzo, his seventh child, who'd struggled the most with his military duty but who wore the uniform proudly.

"Sir."

Gabriel straightened and looked to Corrado, his chief of staff and the man who'd led the effort and managed all the details of today. Corrado had been with him for over forty years, and he couldn't imagine being a king without him. "Are we all set?"

"Yes, Sir. They're moving the casket now."

Gabriel's mother, Her Royal Majesty Princess Victoria, was to have a ceremonial funeral, rather than a full state funeral that a sitting king and queen might have. The main differences were mostly the length of the ceremony and the number of people involved. Still, it was quite a production, and the last nine days had been beyond hectic, transcending into a new level of exhaustion.

Prior to this day, his mother had lain in state for several days in the same abbey where he had married Genevieve, where Alexander had married Rebecca, and where his mother herself had married his father. Well over one hundred thousand had come to see her and say goodbye while she'd lain in state, and over a thousand troops rotated positions and shifts over those days to stand guard. Now his mother would be moved to the main hall for the funeral.

A hand came up to squeeze his shoulder. "All right, Papa?"

He patted Alexander's hand. "Yes, my son. Thank you."

After another squeeze, he let go and resumed position.

Gabriel glanced at his siblings, taking position in two lines behind him: Ferdinand and Gaston directly behind him, followed by Lucien and Agnes. They were all dressed in their ceremonial uniforms, even Agnes. Though they'd never done military service as he had, they wore them for certain occasions such as this.

He hadn't been able to spend as much time with his siblings as he'd wanted to, but the little time he had spent with them had made certain things clear. He hadn't told them about the abdication yet but, based on the little probing he'd done, it was clear they all wouldn't approve. So he saved that fight for the future, and focused on saying goodbye to their mother in the present.

As his mother was brought into the main part of the abbey, the bells of the church sounded and he sensed the crowd inside quiet. When Corrado gave the signal to the Sergeant Major, they began to call commands for the royal procession. Gabriel took a deep breath and stepped forward at their command, Genevieve falling in step beside him as an orchestra began to play.

They entered the abbey near the altar. Gabriel, Genevieve, and his siblings stepped forward, first bowing or curtsying to the coffin, then they took a knee, a very old tradition that was rarely ever used but which they'd all agreed to do. The coffin which was draped with the Vallerian flag, a large floral display on one end. Embedded in the flowers were small notes—one from him, Genevieve, and each of his siblings, and one collective note from all his children. He hadn't read any but his own and didn't care to; his message had been a very personal goodbye, so theirs may have been too.

Kneeling on the cold, stone floor of the abbey, it suddenly occurred to him that he would never bow to his mother again. It was such a silly thought. Only royal children were forced to bow or curtsy to their parents in public, and he, nor his parents, ever wanted that same formality in private. But his mother's death now hit him in a different way.

This was his mother's final ‘public' appearance, and his final public appearance with his mother. He sniffled and was glad of his mustache in moments like this, as it helped hide his true feelings.

After a minute's silence, they moved away to stand at their seats. He wanted to reach for Genevieve's hand beside him, but couldn't while they remained standing. So he instead focused on his children and their loves, and watched them file in and around the casket, Alexander and Rebecca in front, while the others filed in on either side. His sons hadn't needed to wear uniforms but had wanted to, while his daughters all wore various black outfits in lieu of their ceremonial uniforms. They bowed and curtsied and took their own minute of silence before heading to their seats.

Later on, he wished he could say he remembered every moment of the funeral, but the entire event was hazy in his mind. He stood when he needed to, sat when he needed to, sang when he needed to, and did everything exactly correct, but it was as if his body was handling everything automatically. Maybe he simply wasn't meant to remember one of the hardest days of his life.

He wouldn't forget, however, seeing his mother lifeless before they'd placed her in the coffin days ago. She'd looked peaceful, smiling a little even, but pale and cold. He'd held her hand to his cheek all the same, wanting to feel his mother's touch one last time. Then he'd kissed her hand and said his goodbye. Now, as main the funeral service ended and the final procession began, he still didn't feel ready to let her go.

He'd learned after his father's death that grief never disappeared, but it did become easier or more comfortable to live with. With his mother's death, however, he didn't have his work to distract him in the same way. He'd need to take things day by day—or even moment by moment—to help him navigate life without his Mama.

As his children and their spouses and partners began to follow the casket out of the abbey, Gabriel and his siblings and their spouses waited and exited through the side. The doctor and Alexander wouldn't agree to him taking part in a walking procession, but were okay if he was riding a horse, so he and his siblings would follow on horseback instead. Genevieve and the other spouses would be escorted by car.

The procession took half an hour, through the winding streets of the capital, Valentia, from the abbey to the palace grounds and vault where she would be buried. Thousands lined the streets for a final glimpse of their former queen. She'd been a much beloved queen who'd lost her husband and her position on the same day. Stricken with grief, she'd still curtsied to Gabriel and said, her voice clear and composed, "My King." Even on this bright, clear day, with the crowds and sounds of the procession, he could still hear her voice saying those words.

It seemed only minutes later that the procession approached the palace gates. Overhead, Valleria's flag flew at half-mast and would remain that way for thirty more days. Yet, he wouldn't be able to grieve as he wanted to in the days and weeks ahead.

So many heads of state had flown in for the funeral and, though Alexander had met with some of them, others insisted on Gabriel's presence in meetings too. Then there were the abdication and coronation details to sort out.

Sitting on one of his favorite horses, riding behind his mother's casket, his heart ailing and grieving, he admitted to himself that he was glad he was abdicating. He was ready to put aside this part of his life and let his son lead.

The final part of the funeral—the interment—was private and for the family only. Only when she was placed beside his father did he finally feel ready to start letting her go. His father would take care of her from here.

And now it was also time for Gabriel to take care of himself.