TPB3_EBOOK, page 1
This book is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be sold, shared, or given away. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Prince’s Bride: BEGINNING FOREVER
Copyright © 2021 by J.J. McAvoy
ISBN: 9798577652449
Cover design by J.J. McAvoy
Editing by Colleen Snibson & Erica Russikoff
Book design by Inkstain Design Studio
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Follow J.J. McAvoy
DEAR READER:
We meet again! I’m so glad you returned and wanted more of this story. Please know this book is a little different from other books you might have read. It was meant to be a novella but became a chronicle of the first year of King Galahad I and Queen Odette’s reign. Each month highlights the biggest moments that helped to shape and define not only them but those around them. Think of it as a very extended after story. Also! In case you forgot,
THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.
And even though the truth is often stranger, I must tell you that almost all of the characters, names, places, titles, and incidents are real in every universe but the one you are currently reading this in. I hope you enjoy it regardless. So, with love, I welcome you back to the Kingdom of Ersovia.
—J.J. McAvoy
CHAPTER 1
Once upon a time, not so long ago, a little black girl was born into a life of extraordinary privilege, and that privilege afforded her a life of even greater privilege…a life no one ever thought imaginable, a life reserved for fairy tales…a life as a queen.
This was the first night of that life.
My life.
And my heart was beating so fast that it felt like it was trying to crawl up my throat, and I was doing all I could to keep it in my chest. But every second felt like a dream, magic that left everywhere glittering, and I worried that at the stroke of midnight, it would be all over. That I would wake up alone in my bed in Seattle and it would have all been some fantastical figment of my imagination. That the crown on my head, and the jewels around my neck, and the servants who lined the walls all bowing as I walked down the red-carpeted hall under crystal chandeliers, were not real…that the prince…no the king who stood at the double doors, smiling at me was not real.
It could not be real…and yet, he took my hand and kissed the back of it.
“Your Majesty,” he said gently. “You are the very vision of beauty. Honestly, I’m speechless.”
It was all so much. Today was so much for me to take in.
“Gale,” I whispered breathlessly. Then I remembered all eyes were on us. So, while he still held my hand, I curtsied lowly in front of him. “Your Majesty.”
He chuckled, wrapping his hand around and bringing me closer, whispering into my ear, “We only have to get through this part, and then we can make our escape into our rooms for our real wedding night.”
“And the rest of our lives part?” I asked him.
“Are you trying to escape that?”
“I’m trying to brace myself for it.”
“We shall brace for it together,” he said, and we held each other for a moment.
Closing my eyes, I rested on him. I could hear his heart beating, and it seemed to beat just as quickly as mine. This was supposed to be the easiest night for us both, and yet it was the hardest to get through simply because of how big and new it all was.
“Are you ready?” he asked me.
I nodded, stepping back and looking up at him. “So long as I’m with you…yes. Are you?”
“With you, I feel ready for everything,” he replied and kissed my hands once more before we stepped apart slightly and turned to the doors.
He nodded to the two footmen dressed in their gold and black suits with the royal seal on their chests, who pushed open the doors, and as we stepped out onto the balcony of the ballroom, a loud voice bellowed, “Their Royal Majesties, King Galahad and Queen Odette.”
Below us, every person—from my mother, to his mother, to nobles I did not know, to the prime minister, the servants, anyone with a heart—stopped and either bowed lowly or curtsied to us. I did my best to once again swallow the lump of nerves in my throat as Gale led me down the stairs into the most beautiful and expensive ballroom I had ever been in. From the oil-painted ceilings surrounded in gold to the flowers covering all the walls and the crystals that hung off towering desserts and ice sculptures.
With each step, I began to remind myself…
Head up.
Shoulders back.
Do not trip.
Do not smile too much.
Grace.
Dignity.
I was a queen now.
And there was so much I had to live up to and prove. The very first was a dance. Our first official dance, the Ersovian waltz, and it would be in front of everyone.
Gale led me into the center of the ballroom. He lifted his hand, and I lifted mine to his shoulder, so he placed his other hand on my waist. It was then that the small orchestra began to play.
I’d seen scenes like this in movies—period dramas—and I had never thought it would be my life, not ever. Yet here I was being led in circles around the dance floor. How in the hell did this happen? How was this my life?
The reality was just beyond anything I could have ever thought.
“Are you breathing?” he asked me as he led me to the right and spun with me.
“Just barely,” I replied back.
“Are you happy?”
A smile spread over my face. “Extremely. It’s hard not to be when I’m kind of having a fairytale moment right now.”
He grinned. “Yes, well, I am very handsome and dreamy.”
I laughed. “You couldn’t help but compliment yourself.”
“I would die waiting for you to do it.”
“What am I supposed to say? What compliment do you want to hear?”
“Nothing too excessive,” he said seriously. “Just a simple… Oh, Gale, you are the most handsome man in the whole world. Oh, Gale, you are the best husband any woman could ever ask for—”
“Nothing excessive?” I questioned, eyebrow raised.
“Exactly.” He grinned, stepping to the side, and I stepped to the side of him. “It’s not like it’s untrue.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be the judge of that?”
We turned back to face each other, and he stared down at me, our noses almost touching. “Are you saying I am wrong, wife?”
His blue-green eyes peered into me, and I felt giddy. Like I was a teenager getting attention from a boy for the first time.
“You are not wrong, husband,” I finally admitted.
His grin morphed into a full-blown smile, and he took my hand once more, leading me away once again as the music sped up.
“So, say it,” he demanded.
“Didn’t I already?”
“No, you said I wasn’t wrong. But I still need to hear the words.”
It was the happiness, I swear. It was making my head all floaty. That’s why if he had asked me to float to the moon, I’d do it.
“Oh, Gale, you are the most handsome man in the whole world. Oh, Gale, you are the best husband any woman could ever ask—”
He kissed me before I could finish the words, causing me to miss my step and nearly trip, but he held on to me. And I kissed him back, and he would have done much more of that if it were not for the applause that once again reminded us we weren’t alone.
When we broke away, he stared down at me.
“Gale, they are watching…”
“And we are giving them exactly what they expect; it is our wedding night. We should kiss often and frequently,” he said, picking up right where we had left off in the music because the orchestra had stopped and waited for us.
It was because of him that I could forget any other person in the world existed, even if it were just for the duration of a dance.
When it finally came to the end, and we turned back to the crowd once more, they applauded. I think if we had sneezed, they would have applauded even still.
Taking my hand, he led forward once again, and as we walked, they parted for us, allowing us to go to our thrones. The red velvet and golden royal thrones were elevated on a platform, under the royal family seal, behind a table. My heart beat faster with those two little steps as he sat first, and I sat second. It was then the rest of the party went to their tables. I glanced over to my mother just to the right of me, and she winked.
A king’s wedding reception was a very formal affair. We danced once for them. And then sat and watched them enjoy our party. Basically, we were the opening act, and then we were to eat, drink, and watch our guests dance. We only came down when we wanted to dance once more; those would be formal dances, too. So, there was no electric slide or macarena. There was no DJ or party lights. Instead, the very first people to come out to entertain us as we had our dinner were a group of classic ballerinas. I would have thought I had been transported back into the Regency era. I couldn’t even have people come to speak to me. If we wanted to speak to anyone, I would have to summon them.
I couldn’t even say thank you to the butlers as they set food in front of me. And they would not even meet my gaze. They served and bowed as they backed away.
It was so weird. So different than I was used to.
The only person I could really talk to…the only person on my level now…was the king. And when I turned to him, he was already staring back at me. “Yes?” I asked him.
He leaned in and whispered, “I hope all this protocol isn’t boring you.”
“I’m still too dazed to be bored,” I replied.
“Tell me whenever you need anything. Really,” he whispered.
“I’m fine. Thank you.” Could I kiss his hand? Because honestly, I kind of wanted to. He was all that was keeping me going.
He pulled back and handed me a glass of wine. I took it, but I didn’t want to drink too much. I didn’t even really want to eat too much. I just wanted to survive and live up to this grand new life I was in. But as I watched the ballerinas perform in the center of the hall, I found myself wondering…how do I live up to this?
It made me anxious to think of.
So, I stopped thinking.
I sort of allowed myself to just exist next to him.
I watched her all night. Her face was a wonder of emotions, joy, excitement, amazement, calm, and slight terror. It was a lot to take in, even for me. But worrying about her actually made me care less about myself for some reason. Which was why I couldn’t wait for the night to end. So we could be real. We could stop being Their Majesties and be Gale and Odette.
We had to first get through dinner, then speeches from my cousin and her mother.
Another dance.
Then the cake.
Followed by another dance before we were free to leave and it be “respectable.”
Yet still, she felt worried about leaving. “Are you sure?” she whispered to me.
“This is for them. We’ve done our roles for the play; they won’t even be comfortable until we disappear. Come on,” I said, taking her hand and rising from the chair.
When we stood, the whole room rose to attention… I was not used to that, at least not at this level. But again, I ignored all my thoughts about it and led her with me out of the ballroom, back up the very steps we had come down from.
When the footmen opened it for us to exit and closed it behind us, I did what I had wanted to do since I had watched her walk toward me in that church this morning. I grabbed her and lifted her away.
“Gale!” she exclaimed, holding her crown as I started to run with her up the stairs.
“Freedom at last!” I laughed.
“Careful.” She giggled when I nearly tripped.
Thank God I recovered. The maids in the hall giggled, too, but I didn’t care; I ran until I finally made it into our rooms, closing the door with my foot.
“Mrs. Monterey, let’s have a real reception!” I exclaimed as I set her down and kissed her. “Go put away the crown, and join me on the balcony.”
“What?”
“Go! Or I will rip the dress off you,” I said, already reaching out to her.
She jumped back, holding her dress. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m waiting.”
She gave me a look before she kicked off her shoes and ran to her dressing room on the left and I went to mine on the right. Inside, I took off my sash and coat, tossing them onto the chair before going for my shoes. I would have stripped down naked, but I didn’t want to…overdo it just yet. Instead, I simply untucked everything and ran my hand through my hair before stepping back into our room, walking across it to the balcony. I opened the doors, staring out at the garden, and thanked God for the full moon that hung in the night sky.
I grabbed a blanket as well as a few pillows, because the damn room was full of so many of them, and set them up on the floor of the balcony. Taking out my phone, I called Balduin.
“Your Majesty—”
“Have the kitchen send up a large array of food and wine, quickly…also a small heater if we have one,” I said when I felt the cold of the wind blow through me.
“Yes, sir.”
Hanging up, I stepped back into the room and moved to the bed, taking a seat to wait for her…and knowing the food and wine would get here quicker. But I didn’t mind. I’d wait until the sun came up if I had to.
Once more, I ran my hand through my hair, and when I looked down, I saw the rings on both hands. The ring…the seal of the king on my pinky and the wedding band on the other. I never thought I’d have either.
Yet here I was.
I never thought I’d be in love, either.
And yet, here I was.
My heart was beating faster and faster with sheer excitement. Why? I’d already made love to her. I’d already seen everything I could see of her. She had been mine for so long already, and yet…there went my heart thump, thump, thump. Plato once said, “At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.”
But I’d like to think I was a poet before then…even if I was a shoddy poet at best.
So, what did the touch of love make of poets? Greater poets? Or did it make us wordless because we had no words for this emotion? When love was no longer something we dreamed and wondered if it existed at all. But living in us, before our very sights every day…what could any reasonable person say?
Knock.
Knock.
“Enter,” I replied, rising off the bed.
The doors opened, and one butler and three maids entered, two carrying a large table tray of foods and the other with wine. The butler had the heater.
“The balcony,” I directed, and they carefully set up everything. The butler positioned the heater perfectly at the top so it would face us both. “Thank you,” I said to them.
They curtsied and bowed before leaving, and I went back to sit and wait when I heard a door open again.
“Did someone come in?” Odette asked from behind the door; it was only opened a crack.
“Yes, I had them bring us food. You barely ate,” I said, walking closer to her door.
I caught brown eyes in the slivered opening. “Are they gone now?”
“Yes, don’t worry,” I whispered.
She closed the door in my face, and I thought she was going back to do whatever she was doing, so I returned to the bed when the door opened again.
“Good, if anyone else caught me like this, I would be a bit mortified,” she said as she emerged.
My mouth just opened.
My eyes wandered from her cute bare feet up her smooth legs to see through her short, white lingerie dress she wore… which allowed me to see her brown nipples perfectly through them. Her hair was down in a curly halo around her.
“I really wanted you to eat something, but now I fear I might eat you first,” I muttered in awe of her.
“So you like?” she asked, stepping out to me.
“Very, very much,” I whispered, stepping to her, reaching up and stroking her neck. “But as you know, I like everything on and especially off you.”
