Page 89 of Loved By The King

I smile down at him, unable to resist his infectious excitement. “Of course, you can help, Max. What do you want to do?”

“I can be in charge of the rings!” he exclaims, holding out his tiny hands as if expecting me to hand them over right now. “I’ll keep them safe, I promise!”

Maribel, who has finally caught up to him, sighs in exasperation. “Max, we already have someone to carry the rings.”

“But I can do it better!” Max insists, puffing out his chest proudly. “I won’t lose them. I promise!”

I crouch down to his level, brushing a lock of dark hair out of his eyes. “I know you’d do a great job, Max, but we already asked someone else. How about you help decorate instead? We need someone very important to decide where all these ribbons should go.” Soren and I feel bad not allowing him to be part of the wedding service, but we need him close to his guard just in case things go wrong, they need to get him out of the way as quickly as possible.

Max’s face lights up at the suggestion. “Really? I get to decide?”

“Really,” I confirm. “And Grandma can help you.”

“Of course, someone has to keep you from tying ribbons to everything in sight,” Maribel chuckles, though a fond smile plays at the corners of her mouth.

Max immediately grabs her hand, dragging her toward one of the tables piled high with ribbons and flowers. “Come on, Grandma! We have to make it look perfect!”

I watch them go, feeling a warm flutter in my chest. Despite everything—the chaos, the danger, the uncertainty—moments like this make all the uncertainty worth enduring.

I turn back toward the far end of the hall, where Soren and Damian are standing over a large table covered in maps and diagrams. From the way Damian’s arms are crossed and the crease in Soren’s brow, I can tell they’re deep in discussion about something important.

As I approach, Soren peers up, his expression softening when he sees me. “Everything okay?”

“Max has taken charge of the ribbon decorations,” I say with a grin, nodding toward where Max and Maribel are now enthusiastically tying ribbons to anything that stands still long enough.

Soren chuckles, the tension easing from his shoulders for a moment. “At least he’s not trying to rearrange the seating placements.”

Damian snorts. “Give him time. He’s probably already plotting it.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” I warn playfully, stepping closer to Soren. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against his side.

“We were just finalizing some security measures for the wedding,” Soren explains. “We’ll have guards stationed around the perimeter and a few mixed in with the guests. If Alaric tries anything, we’ll be ready.”

“And Alaric? He’s really coming?”

Soren nods, his expression darkening slightly. “He confirmed his attendance this morning with Damian. Everything’s going according to plan.”

I swallow hard, the weight of what’s to come settling heavily on my shoulders. “Good,” I say, though the word feels hollow. “Let’s just hope it stays that way.”

Soren squeezes my waist gently, offering silent reassurance. “It will. We’ll handle it.”

“We really can’t let Max be a part of the ceremony? It feels weird he isn’t involved. He asked about being the ring bearer again.”

Soren sighs heavily and glances at Damian, who grits his teeth. “You want to place him before the enemy on a stage where he’ll be a sitting target?”

I sigh, knowing he is right.

“But what better place is there for him to stand when he would have two body shields?” Soren asks him.

“He is safer with Mom and Dad.”

“Can’t he just do the rings and then step down?” I ask, knowing how much he wants to be a part of it.

“If something goes wrong, I need to cover you both,” Damian tells us.

“You cover him.” Soren and I say in unison. Soren chuckles, looking at me.

“See, problem solved,” Soren tells him.