Chapter 31

Jo

I've never had so many people hovering around me, fussing with my clothes and makeup.

Once, when I served as a bridesmaid in Sabine's wedding, some of the other villagers volunteered to help with makeup and hair. That wasn't much of a to-do.

But here, I'm not even a bridesmaid. I'm only a guest.

And yet, the palace stylist has whisked me off to a private room and sewn me into a pale silvery-blue floor-length gown that's more formal—and probably costs more—than any bridal gown I've ever seen.

Apart from the dress, I'm done up with fine jewelry, a fascinator hat, gloves, and a fur stole. I draw the line at heels.

I point to the four-inch pumps that lie untouched next to my dressing table. "I can't walk in those," I tell Sable.

After a lot of back and forth, she agrees, grumpily, to let me wear flats.

"It's either no heels or I go barefoot."

I look at my reflection in the mirror and find myself suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that all this fuss and nonsense is…sort of fun. I'd been telling myself all along that our simple elopement was perfect for us.

Should I have set a date? Planned a party? Bought a dress? Ordered a cake?

It almost seems like Jakob wants to run from things that are good—attention for his bravery—toward things that are familiar.

I was familiar to him. I'm the comforting presence that reminds him of happier times.

So why couldn't he just tell me that?

The wedding takes place in a clearing in the woods, quite fitting for the groom we all know as the Wild Prince. I'm now very happy I wore flats and not heels. No matter how hard the palace landscapers worked to make this space accommodating to a royal wedding, I would find a way to ruin expensive shoes.

As the ushers seat me, Jakob appears, dashing in his tailored suit. He looks refined, with his hair and beard freshly trimmed. He's proud as he escorts Stasi down the aisle.

Jakob catches my eye and smiles. I'm flooded with warmth. That's my husband.

He is human and imperfect. Stubborn. Quirky. Somehow more introverted than I am. But the bottom line is I love him.

I smile back, and his shoulders relax.

When they reach the wedding arbor, Jakob hands Stasi over to Sigurd, then stands opposite Princess Flora. The princess is like a fairy in a glittering, diaphanous gown. Her wide eyes are fixed on Jakob.

I feel my irrational jealousy bubble up again.

They do look oddly alike, don't they? Jakob and Sigurd. Jakob and Etienne, and also Jakob and Torben. It's almost like someone held up a mirror…

The princess suddenly looks like she might pass out.

She doesn't know.

What I'm witnessing is the moment that Princess Flora recognizes her rescuer, in the middle of her brother's wedding.