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“Will you pinch me?”
His hand slides down to my ass. “Where? Here?”
I smile, eyes still closed, inhaling the scent of him. “I just want to make sure this isn’t a dream. I don’t think I can handle the heartbreak if I wake up without you beside me.”
“Never again, Jazz.” His voice is full of gravel. “You’ll never wake up without me again. I may give up my title of Prince of Nord, but you’ll always be my princess. My queen. Every morning, day, evening, and night for the rest of my life.”
His lips are soft, warm, real, and totally, completely mine. In the stillness of my old kitchen, on a cold winter evening in the country I love with all my heart, I’ve finally found my peace. My love.
My Silas.
Epilogue
Jazz
The transition away from the royal family is difficult. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Silas gets a lot of criticism from the media—criticism which is then transferred to me.
Not only am I called a hypocrite, sell-out, and many other more unsavory words by the people of the internet, when Silas makes the announcement, they add homewrecker to the list.
But Silas’s love is worth any name-calling. We agree to marry in a quiet ceremony with only Silas’s immediate family, my mother, Rhea, and Annie, and vow to have a bigger party once our child is born and I’m once again able to celebrate with wine and champagne.
As we stand in one of the smaller ballrooms of Stirling Castle, surrounded by all the people who love us most, I can’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world. When the short, no-fuss ceremony finishes, and Silas wraps his arms around me to kiss me, my smile nearly splits my face in half.
“I love you, wife,” Silas whispers, nuzzling his nose against mine.
“Husband,” I reply, tasting the word on my tongue.
I never thought I’d be the type of woman who enjoys calling someone her husband. Never thought I’d want to tell everyone I meet that I’m married—yet here we are. As soon as the officiant pronounces us husband and wife, my heart does a big flip, and I know I most definitely am that kind of woman. I can’t wait to introduce Silas as my husband. Tell whoever will listen that I found my person, and he agreed to marry me. We’re spending the rest of our days together. Signed the piece of paper and everything.
Our little procession of people crosses two double doors into an adjoining room, where the reception is held.
Penelope walks up to us, wrapping one arm around her brother before turning to me and taking both my hands in hers. “Welcome to the family, Jacinthe. Those are words I never thought I’d say.” Her eyes gleam as she speaks.
Asher Gerhard, her husband, walks up behind her with his daughter in his arms. He laughs at the Queen’s words, slinging his free arm around Her Majesty’s shoulders. “Remember the time you interviewed me and tried to catch me out?” He leans in. “Look at you now. More controversy than even I could muster.”
My cheeks turn pink, but I can’t quite keep the smile off my face. Silas doesn’t even try—he lets out a big laugh, wrapping his arms around me.
That’s how the whole day progresses. Wherever I go, Silas is near. We always manage to touch each other—hands brushing against each other, a palm on the small of my back, an arm around his waist, a kiss, a look, a touch. It feels so incredibly right to be able to say he’s mine, and I’m his. Forever.
After the wedding, Silas accepts his sister’s offer to take a security team to my house when he moves in. Within days, though, we both know it’s not going to work. I recognize half the reporters standing outside my door, wanting to spritz them all with a bottle of water like you would a pack of stray cats.
I’m on the other side of the firing line now, though, and I understand they need to do their job. Still, Silas and I slip inside the door and let out a sigh.
He arches his brows at me, sliding his hands over his hips. “We might need to consider moving away from here. Perhaps somewhere more remote with very high walls.”
I laugh. “A prison?”
“I was thinking more a country estate somewhere isolated and hard to get to.”
“I won’t be taking handouts from your family for the rest of my life.”
“I know, Jazz, but like it or not, you chose me”—he moves closer, leaning his head toward mine—“and it’s too late to take it back.”
I laugh, hooking my arms around his neck. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
Kissing Silas is home to me. With my lips pressed against his, the knocks and phone calls of reporters ringing all around us, I already know I’ll accept a handout or two from the royal family to make sure we’re safe, together, and happy.
He’s right—I signed up for this. I walked into this with eyes wide open, knowing it would change my life forever. Even when I thought I could refuse him, when I wanted to raise our child on my own, I think I knew, deep down, that we’d end up together. I’d have to give something up to be with Silas, and he’d have to give something up to be with me.
