Till death do us part.
I wish Chloe were here. With one pithy comment she’d be able to calm me down. Unfortunately for me, my sister — Chloe “Jesus Isn’t Really My Thing” Thorne — decided to stay home this morning, opting to binge-watch the latest season of our favorite trashy teen vampire show instead of taking in a church service.
Hauling fortifying gulps of air in through my nose, I focus on making it to the top of the steps, leaning on Alden the entire way. Things are somewhat tamer inside the church. Instead of overeager Instagrammers, the pews are full of well-dressed elites in elaborate fascinator hats and understated floral dresses, accessorized with the entire spring handbag collection from Paris Fashion Week. We step through the doors and they part before us like the Red Sea before Moses — a fitting analogy, given our current location.
At least in here, no one is snapping my photograph or live-tweeting my every move for their followers. It makes it easier to excuse myself for a moment.
“I’ll be right back,” I assure Alden, disengaging my arm from his when we reach the front pew, which has been reserved for the royal family since Windsor Abbey was first constructed. “I’m just going to run to the restroom before the service starts.”
“Do you want me to escort you?”
“That won’t be necessary.” I catch Galizia’s eyes and she nods in understanding, seeming to read the panicked look on my face. “I have my guard.”
Alden smiles at me. “All right. Hurry back, my dear.”
I pivot and do my best not to bolt for the side aisle. I just need a moment without all these eyes on me. Somewhere I can gather my thoughts, until the m-word —Married! Married! Married!— stops blazing through my mind.
Galizia leads me out of the main cathedral into a small hallway. We round a corner, passing the coat check area, and finally make our way into an empty back room. The engraved gold placard on the door mocks me.
BRIDAL SUITE
“Perfect,” I mutter, stepping inside with a laugh. “Just perfect.”
“Is something wrong?” Galizia asks.
“No. No, I’m fine. Promise.”
“You look pale.”
“Sorry. I just…”
“Needed a minute?”
I nod. “Mmm.”
“Take your time. I’m sure they’ll wait to start the services until you return.”
“That’s only slightly mortifying.” I groan into my palms. “God, I don’t know why I’m suddenly panicking.”
“I could guess, but psychology isn’t really my realm.”
“It’s just, being here at the church… I started thinking about how the next time I’m here, I’ll be…”
“Married.”
“Yes.Married.” I shake my head. “Why is that so scary to say out loud? I was fine the other day, during the engagement party.” I pause. “Okay, maybe notfine,but at least I wasn’t having a full-blown anxiety attack.”
“Toying with the idea of something and facing the reality of it are two very different beasts to slay.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “I thought psychology wasn’tyour realm.”
“It doesn’t take a shrink to realize why this might send your head spinning.” Galizia’s lips twist. “It’s not as though you’ve agreed to a private country wedding with six close friends and a bohemian minister, Your Majesty. You’re facing a ceremony broadcast live to the whole world… with the entirety of polite society in attendance… plus dignitaries from foreign countries… and a horse-drawn carriage ride through the streets when it’s all over…”
“Is this supposed to be making me feel better or worse? Because I’m about to start hyperventilating, here.”
“Just… sit down for a minute,” she orders sternly. “There’s a kitchen through there; I’m going to get you a glass of water.”
At her orders, I collapse into a nearby armchair and press my eyes closed. Galizia disappears deeper into the suite, presumably to fetch me a refreshment. When I hear the door swing open a second later, I reach out blindly for the glass… but it’s not my guard’s voice that greets me.