Hand-Me-Down Princess (3 page)

She likely wouldn’t have attracted his attention if they’d simply been in the same room. Somewhat on the plain side perhaps, but her dark eyes held his attention. They were a bit more bloodshot and red-rimmed than he wished his bride’s eyes would be on their wedding day, but the tremulous smile spoke of her bravery.

He tucked her hand inside his elbow and started up the stairs. “Would you like a few minutes to freshen up?” She flinched, and he hoped he hadn’t inadvertently insulted her. “Or just a few minutes to relax before we have to go to the balcony?”

“Can’t we do it now and get it over with?” Malachi didn’t think he was supposed to hear the question but he did.

“I’m sorry, but no. In about two hours we’ll essentially be done with the crowds for the day.” The ginormous doors to the palace opened in front of them, all part of the pageantry of the day. Once they closed, however, there was a few moments’ reprieve, alone in the large entry. “The rest of the family will be here soon. You’ve met all of them, right?” He led her to a powder room off the entry. “Would you like me to call someone to help you?”

She sank onto a small couch letting go of his arm and shook her head.

“No, you’ve not met all of my family or no, you wouldn’t like me to call someone to help you freshen up?”

Jessabelle stared at her hands again. “Both. Well, I met most of them once many years ago, but just in a line with a lot of other people. I think you were there, too, but you wouldn’t remember.”

Malachi dropped to one knee in front of her. “You mean you’ve never really met my father? Not during the process of negotiating this? Or my brother when you two were a potential match?”

“No. My father handled all of it.”

The feeling of dread took up residence deep inside. “Did he even ask if this was what you wanted? I thought it odd you didn’t want to meet, but my father insisted.”

She still didn’t make eye contact with him. “What I wanted never entered my father’s mind. He wanted to see me well taken care of before he dies. I don’t suppose it mattered to him if it was you or your brother or someone I chose as long as he didn’t worry about me.”

“Was there someone else you would have preferred?”

“No. I’m only nineteen. I haven’t been on many dates.”

She was younger than he realized. Not much younger than he, but how did he not know she was still a teenager? “And that’s why the wedding took place so quickly?”

Another nod. “He doesn’t believe he has long left.”

“Does he?”

“It’s unlikely. The doctor’s aren’t optimistic.”

So she’d had even less choice in the matter than he had. Interesting. And it explained the tension radiating from her.

Voices could be heard in the other room just before a light knock sounded on the door. “Come!” Malachi called, knowing he had no choice.

His sister’s assistant and stylist entered holding a large bag. They would work with his new wife until she hired ones of her own. “The king is looking for you, sir. I’ll help the princess freshen up.”

Malachi reached out and squeezed Jessabelle’s folded hands. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

She gave the barest of nods and his heart ached for her. He’d have to remember how sudden this was for her, even more so than for him. He walked back into the entry, now filled with members of his family and extended family. His sword slapped against his side as he strode toward his father. King or not, they were going to have words.

“How could you?” he whispered fiercely so no one else would hear.

His father crossed his arms in front of his chest. “How could I what?”

“Arrange a marriage contract with a girl who didn’t want it.”

“Her opinion was not my concern. Her father, one of my oldest friends, who is
dying,
asked me to honor an agreement from our childhood. In exchange for saving his life, one of my sons would marry one of his daughters. He only has one child. Your wife. I have two sons. I chose you to marry her.”

“No, you didn’t. William refused.”

His father’s eyes took on a gleam. “If I had insisted he would have done as he was told. However, for many reasons, I decided you were a better match for the girl anyway.” He waved a hand. “It is too late now, regardless. You’ve said your vows and given her your ring, a crown, and your name.”

“We’ll talk about the farce of those vows later,” Malachi promised.

“I can’t change the vows any more than you can.”

“You could have. I can’t believe Mother agreed to them.”

“She had as much choice as any of us in the royal family.” The king glanced at someone behind Malachi. “We can discuss it after your honeymoon if you’d like, but you need to go find your bride. It’s time for the balcony.”

Malachi tamped down his desire to get into it with his dad. It wasn’t the time or the place or the fight to have at this point. It was too late. He and Jessabelle were legally married. With a final glare at his father, he turned to see Jessabelle emerging from the powder room. The assistant had done something magical, covering up the redness and giving her a healthy glow.

He stretched a hand toward her, willing her to take it. She did, albeit hesitantly. Malachi bowed until he could kiss the back of it. “You look lovely.” Maybe not entirely accurate. She would likely never be a great beauty, but she did look nice. “Are you ready?”

“Can I say no?”

“Afraid not.”

“Then I have no choice.” Her hand rested on her stomach as she took a deep breath.

“Are you all right?” Malachi took a step closer and rested his hand on her back.

“I’m feeling a bit nauseated. I don’t do crowds. I can’t believe I made it this long.” She clamped her mouth shut as though she’d said too much.

“Is that why you weren’t at the press gathering?”

She nodded.

“I won’t leave your side unless I absolutely have to until it’s all over.” It was the least he could do. This evening they’d have to have a long talk. In fact...an idea occurred to him. He’d have to go around his father, but Malachi no longer cared. He needed to take care of his bride as best he could under the circumstances. After one more squeeze of her hand, he tucked it into his elbow.

Chapter 3

Jessabelle struggled to maintain her composure. It seemed that Prince Malachi cared about her comfort. A little bit at least. She couldn’t believe how much she’d said to him already. She didn’t talk to men. Ever. Not unless there was absolutely no way to avoid it. The two of them led the small procession through unfamiliar halls. Built into the side of the hill, Jessabelle knew little about the palace and couldn’t take it all in. She knew the lower two floors of windows visible from town hill housed staff. There were multiple apartments for members of the royal family plus all of the formal areas, offices, and who knew what else. She also knew there was a balcony in the massive central courtyard.

Trumpets blared as those doors opened in front of her. The blast of cold air caught her off guard, though it shouldn’t have. She and Prince Malachi came to a stop about a foot from the stone railing. The large courtyard was filled to capacity. The prince began to wave with his other hand before he leaned over to whisper to her.

“You’re doing great. Smile and wave, and we’ll be done in a minute.”

Jessabelle put on the best smile she could manage as the rest of the royal family stood around them. It only took a few seconds for her to begin to shiver. She hated the cold. Always had. Prince Malachi dropped her hand but before she could figure out why, he wrapped his uniform coat around her shoulders.

“Slip your arms in.”

She did as he said, the remnants of his body heat warming her. He stood behind her, one arm wrapping around her middle as the other waved. Jessabelle did her best to keep her smile in place as she waved. Had she realized how tall the prince was? Likely not as he was several inches shorter than the Crown Prince, but still over six foot.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered again.

For the next few minutes, they both ignored the calls for a kiss. But then she felt him press one against the side of her head.

“That’s all they’re going to get.” His arm slipped from around her, but his wave got bigger. “Let’s go.”

Jessabelle turned, short-lived relief flooding through her. Prince Malachi wrapped his supportive arm around her waist as they walked back into the palace. As soon as the doors closed behind the rest of the group, she slipped off the coat. Goosebumps remained on her arms as Prince Malachi wrapped it around her shoulders again.

“Keep it for now. Give it back when we get ready for pictures.” He kept his arm around her waist as he led her through several rooms and hallways. So overwhelming. She’d never remember how to get around.

Then they entered the throne room. How many girls got their wedding pictures taken in a throne room? Jessabelle would gladly have foregone the honor.

The next hour was both mind-numbingly tedious and completely fear inducing. She managed to insult the king, though Jessabelle still wasn’t certain how she’d done that. Only one member of the family took time out to talk with her.

“Welcome to the family, darling.” Jessabelle couldn’t place the tiny woman in front of her. At least an inch under five feet tall, she was the opposite of the man strolling up behind her.

Prince Malachi bent to kiss her cheek. “Nana Yvette, I see you have met my bride.”

“We are just getting acquainted, dear Kai.”

“Kai?” The question popped out before Jessabelle could stop it.

Prince Malachi kept his arm wrapped around the small woman’s waist. “My great-grandmother is the only one in the family not to shorten Malachi to Mal.”

Yvette - what was her title these days anyway? Since she wasn’t queen anymore - held out both hands to Jessabelle. “You will have to come by to see me after you return from your honeymoon. I want to have a chance to talk without being interrupted.”

Jessabelle nodded. “Of course.” Like she would deny the royal great-grandmother a conversation, even if she wondered why the woman would want to talk with her.

Nana Yvette looked up at Prince Malachi. “I like the clean-shaven look, Kai. The nice beard, just a bit longer than scruffy, is a good look for you, too, though.”

Jessabelle hadn’t even noticed he’d shaved his beard. He didn’t always have one, did he?

“I usually only let it grow in the winter or when I’m out of town,” he explained, though she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or his great-grandmother. “A wedding seemed like a place to be clean-shaven.” He winked at Jessabelle. “Plus my mother said I had to.”

He took orders from the queen, too? Of course he did. Someone called for Prince Malachi, and he gave Nana Yvette another kiss on the cheek. Yvette reached out and put one hand on either of Jessabelle’s cheeks. “You will do very nicely, my dear. Don’t let the rest of them, especially my grandson, intimidate you. Remember, you will always,
always
, be loved.”

Before Jessabelle could respond, Nana Yvette turned and walked away, leaving her to stare. Her grandson? It took a minute for her to realize who Nana Yvette was talking about.

The king.

Don’t let the king intimidate her?

Right. There was a snowball’s chance in the Sahara that he wouldn’t intimidate her.

In fact, he chose that moment to glare at her. Jessabelle glanced around and realized she was the only one left in the room. Swallowing hard, she gathered her skirts and hurried toward the open door and the luncheon she’d give anything not to attend.

* * *

For someone who didn’t like crowds, Malachi thought his bride was holding up remarkably well. Her father chose to sit with the king rather than his daughter. Malachi took it upon himself to order the seating be rearranged. He and his bride were seated with his distant cousins.

Queen Christiana of Ravenzario, the first of his generation to take the throne, brought Jonathan Langley-Cranston, friend of Queen Adeline of Montevaro as her escort. Malachi had heard rumors that Christiana was involved with a gentleman but chose to keep the relationship very private for the moment. His cousins, directly to the south, all brought their significant others. Queen Adeline and her husband, Duke Charlemagne, or Charlie, had been married the summer before, just days before her coronation. Prince Richard, the Montevarian spare, married Charlie’s cousin Ellie on Christmas Eve. And Princess Anastasia sported the engagement ring Dr. Jonah Fontaine had presented her with on Christmas Day.

As he hoped, Addie’s gentle nature drew Jessabelle out of her shell a bit. By the time the luncheon ended, Addie had put her somewhat at ease. Anastasia joined in the conversation quite a bit, but Christiana kept to herself. He’d had a chance to talk with Jonathan, and been invited to visit the other man in the States if they were ever in the area.

Malachi did his best to keep an eye on Christiana, but his attention was divided between his new wife and the rest of the people at the table. He did know the relationship between the countries was strained at the moment, but he wasn’t often consulted on matters of state. All he’d heard were some rumblings of discontent with people who wanted to visit Ravenzario. They
had
told him some of the details of the investigation into her uncle the year before, but little else.