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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.
32
Jakob
The weight of being a commoner surrounded by the trappings of royalty is a reminder of the life I was shut out from.
The stark contrast between the palace and how I grew up sows seeds of deep discomfort as I stand here, praying, wishing for this wedding to start already.
Finally, Stasi’s ready. As I walk her down the aisle, I see Jo, her gown flowing around her like stardust. She’s the most stunning beauty in this clearing of the woods, a most unlikely place to be full of glittering, well-heeled guests.
Jo’s formal look today only underlines the elegance with which she conducts herself every day. Her gown flows around her like a cascade of stardust, complementing rather than contrasting with her down-to-earth sensibilities.
Jo is my anchor as I stand in front of all these people, about to watch one of my best friends get married.
Finally, no one’s eyes are on me except Jo’s.
And then another pair of wide eyes surveys me.
Princess Flora stands adjacent to the arbor, examining me for clues. She’s trying to place me.
Gods, why can’t this officiant get on with the vows already?
In a pink gown with green lace and a botanical crown on her red hair to match, Stasi outshines everyone except my Jo.
