Someone else.
When we finally reach the abbey, a towering vision of steeples and stained glass, I catch sight of the photographers lining the security barricades, their telephoto lenses snapping endless shots of Linus and Octavia as they ascend the steps toward the doors in a stately fashion. My heart begins to pound so hard I’m sure Carter can hear it, seated so close beside me. I’ve never felt more grateful for my anonymity.
Internally, I recite the plan, hoping it’ll help calm me.
Stand behind Simms at a respectful distance.
Don’t stare, don’t fidget, don’t draw attention.
No one knows who you are or why you’re here.
No one will even take notice of you.
A shuddering breath rattles from my lungs as I feel the brakes engage. It’s our turn to disembark.
Ava, Alden, and Chloe scramble out first. Alone in the limo, Carter’s eyes cut to mine for the briefest of moments.
“Don’t forget to breathe, love.”
With that, we step out into the unrelenting gloom of the cold October day.
Chapter Fourteen
The ceremony itself is lovely.
Lovely, butlong— hours of benedictions and prayers, scripture and sermon, eulogies and ensemble choirs. By the time we finally filter out of Windsor Abbey, my feet are aching. My heart is heavy. My eyes are damp with tears I didn’t think I’d shed for the aunt and uncle I never got to meet.
Farewell, Leopold and Abigail. I hope you are at peace, now.
Our group has expanded to include Lord and Lady Sterling — Ava and Alden’s parents — who are just as pale and tall as their children. They don’t bother introducing themselves to me as we make our way down the steps, through a gauntlet of King’s Guard in their formal blue uniforms.
I trail close on Simms’ heels, keeping my eyes downcast, listening to the muffled click of press cameras from all sides. It’s the loudest noise to be heard in the gathered crowd of thousands.
Click, click, click, click.
We’re nearly to the bottom of the stairs, where the waiting limousines offer refuge. For the first time all day, I feel a hint of my anxiety dissipate.
It’s over.
My relief is short lived. A shout — slurred with alcohol, but oh so familiar — pierces the air like a clap of thunder in the otherwise silent crowd.
“EMILIA!”
I hear people turning toward the voice, stunned by the man who would dare interrupt such a somber occasion with senseless yelling, but I don’t dare look; not with the entire country watching.
“EMILIA LANCASTER!”
The crowd begins to titter, curiosity crashing through the masses like a wave.
Did he say Lancaster?
Simms glances back at me, concern etched on his features. Carter and Chloe do the same. My heart begins to pound as the King’s Guard closes rank, hands on their hilts, hurrying us down the remaining steps as fast as possible without causing a scene.
“LOOK AT ME!” Owen’s words are garbled, but still intelligible. “EMILIA, YOU CAN’T DO THIS — YOU CAN’T JUST CUT ME OUT!PLEASE!”
When his voice cracks, I can no longer control myself. My eyes lift to find him in the crowd — blond hair falling onto his forehead, brown eyes bloodshot. Our gazes connect for a moment, and I shake my head as if to say,Please, Owen, don’t say any more.
Please, let this go.