Epilogue

ALMOST EIGHTEEN MONTHS had passed since I first set eyes on Presti, but I don’t think he’d ever looked as beautiful as he did today with my brand new niece cradled in his arms, cooing and gurgling up at him. Hannah and George often sought Presti out when Grace couldn’t be calmed. She always quieted in Presti’s arms.

I watched him rocking gently, cooing back at her, his face alight with joy as he stared at her. Since my father’s funeral and Presti’s arrival on the world stage, he had amazed me every day with the gracious way he’d handled the intrusion of the press into his life.

Our life.

We were a unit—the two of us together against the world. We’d faced our share of hate and criticism, but most days, the venom flowed over us like water over rocks. We hardly felt it. We were stronger together.

“Have you done it yet?” Harlan asked as he came to stand at my side.

“No.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“What if he says no?”

Harlan snorted. “I think that’s unlikely.”

Presti loved me. I knew that. But that didn’t mean he’d want to marry me. Weeks ago, I had planned my proposal. A romantic, candlelight dinner. Slow dancing afterwards. Then, I’d take him onto the terrace under the stars, get down on one knee, and beg him to be my husband.

My nerves held me hostage though. How would I survive if he said no?

Grace’s christening began in a few hours. Once we’d gotten through that, perhaps tonight would be the night. Presti had been to several royal engagements with me, and other than Hannah, I think he was the one people wanted to see most. For some, I think it was a morbid curiosity to see the man who’d turned their prince gay. Yep, that was a thing some people actually believed.

For others, he and I were inspirations. Some just loved love in all its forms and wanted to be a witness to it. Of course, Presti’s beauty brought others to look at him—that one I understood. I could happily sit, stand, or lie and watch Presti for hours.

Though he was happy here, I knew he missed Australia. He missed his family. I intended to change that.

People who were part of my large, extended family filled the room now as we waited for the christening to begin. I knew them all, some better than others. Apart from Mum, George, Hannah, and Harlan, I only saw the others at royal events or occasions. I didn’t spend hours on the phone or video calls with them as Presti did with Astrid and his mum.

Presti had sacrificed so much to be with me. It was past time I reciprocated. I’d already spoken to Gran and let her know I’d be stepping down as a senior royal. I’d told her if things went as I hoped, I’d be moving to Australia with Presti. She’d grizzled at first, but then—surprisingly—Simon de Montfort had come to my side. He’d talked Gran into appointing me as her representative in Oceania.

For a split second, I’d been shocked, until I realised Simon got what he wanted. Me gone. I didn’t care because I got what I wanted too.

All I had left was to tell Presti and ask him to marry me.

Nothing much. Just placing my happiness in one little question.

I could do this. I could.

Look at what I’d done already. I had the most amazing man in the world in my life. He loved me. Me . Some days, I scarcely believed it. I mean, look at him.

Look at him .

Prestidigitation Jones was perfection. I watched him across the room pressing a kiss on my niece’s forehead. I saw her smile at him, her tiny fist gripping his finger and watched his curls bounce as he laughed when she blew a raspberry. In a gilded room, Presti was the most golden thing in there.

I fucking adored him.

Look at him .

“Hey!” I shouted clear across the room. Everyone stilled—shouting wasn’t done in the palace. Presti looked over to me and smiled his beautiful smile.

“Marry me?”

A handful of gasps filled the air. Presti smiled wider and laughed. “Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”