Authors: Carol Moncado
Poppo, David, and the rest of the family joined her for many of the pictures, as did a number of her staff. No members of the government did, except the Prime Minister and Minority Leader. Though, the photos were generally tedious, before she knew it, the coordinator had moved her to the waiting room in the main building. From there, she and Poppo would walk to the barn. Everyone else was led to the other building where they would wait for her to arrive then precede her in.
An assistant to the wedding coordinator nodded at them.
Poppo looked down at her, a tender expression on his face. One she could imagine from her own father or grandfather.
It was time.
Wedding updates
An examination of the program reveals several interesting tidbits:
In order of their appearance in the program:
Queen Christiana’s family will be represented by several of her subjects, said to be standing in as representatives of “the people of Ravenzario.”
The groom is Alexander Bayfield, son of the owners of the wedding facility. Though he has lived in Ravenzario for the last several years, he was raised in both Serenity Landing, Missouri and Los Angeles, California in the United States. Speculation is running rampant as to how the queen and Mr. Bayfield met. His twin brother, Christopher, will stand up with him, along with another representative of the people of Ravenzario.
Chapter 5
Alexander walked in from the side door to the front of the barn-turned-wedding venue, near the center. He would meet Queen Christiana at the bottom of the stairs, and they would walk up them together. In moments, he would be a married man and the prince consort of his adopted country.
Taking on either role would be enough to make most men think twice, and he had, but ultimately, he knew this was the right decision. He believed he loved the queen already, but knew would easily grow to love her even more. Hopefully, she would grow to love him as well. Christopher stood behind him as the music started to play. Alexander had asked questions about the ring bearer or her maid of honor, but Christiana hadn't given him any answers. There was no sense of stress, but a feeling that she trusted it would all work out. He wanted to believe the prayers he'd said for a stress-free transition to a new groom had something to do with it.
An older woman Alexander didn't recognize was escorted by a man in his mid-thirties, and they sat in the front row. They were followed by another couple he didn’t know, then a woman walking by herself. The last man came to stand on the other side of his brother while both women stood opposite them. Okay. So she found a bridal party. A flower girl and ring bearer walked sedately down the aisle. Alexander's grin widened as he recognized David from the Royal Scouts. Perfect. The music changed and everyone in the room stood to their feet. He'd had no trouble seeing the other end of the aisle up to that point. Now, everyone’s heads blocked his view. The coordinator had told him where to stand,
precisely
where to stand, but he couldn't help it. He took a step forward until he had a clear view.
The doors at the other end opened.
First, he saw Poppo and smiled. What a perfect choice to walk her down the aisle.
Then Alexander felt his breath stolen right out of him. Queen Christiana walked toward him. He knew he would never remember what she wore, but he'd always remember the way tears filled his eyes and blurred his vision. As a rule, he didn't cry often, but this time a couple tears found their way down his cheeks.
Alexander couldn't contain his smile as she came closer. He wanted to walk toward her, to reach for her, but his brother's steadying touch on his shoulder kept him in place. She and Poppo stopped a foot from him.
"Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?" The voice boomed over the loudspeakers.
Poppo stood a bit taller. "On behalf of her country and her beloved people, I do."
Alexander saw a tear drop as Poppo bent over to whisper something in her ear then kiss her cheek. As she let go of Poppo's arm, Christiana reached for Alexander.
He took her right hand in his and his left hand came to rest on the small of her back as they ascended the ten stairs to the stage.
Did she need the support? Probably not.
Did he feel better giving it? Making sure she didn't trip? Absolutely.
The ceremony passed in a blur. Queen Christiana's trusting blue eyes stared into his as they both repeated the time honored words. Alexander promised to love, honor, and cherish her. To be faithful to her.
For as long as they both shall live.
And she did the same.
This wedding would differ from most, and Alexander faced disappointment when the preacher reached the part of the ceremony where he would usually tell Alexander he could kiss his bride.
Instead, they heard the words, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together in this place and in the presence of these witnesses, let no man put asunder. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Her Majesty, Queen Christiana and Alexander, Prince Consort and Duke of Testudines."
The title surprised him, but that emotion got lost in the overwhelming urge to kiss his wife. He might not be able to, not really, but that didn't stop him from wanting to. Instead, Alexander framed her face with his hands, the pads of his thumbs running along her cheekbones. Wariness filled her eyes, but when he pressed his lips to her forehead he could feel her relief.
Tradition dictated the royal family did not have the first kiss during the ceremony. Much like several other countries, including both Great Britain and Montevaro, that he knew of, that kiss would come in full view of the public while on the balcony of the palace. Alexander rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he tried to soak in the enormity of it all.
The applause from the crowd told him what he needed to know. While their first kiss would likely grace the front page of newspapers and websites, the tender moment he now shared with his bride would be the one plastered everywhere for all eternity.
God, help us make this work. We can’t do any of it without your help. Help me to love her selflessly and for Christiana to learn to trust me with her heart.
A softly-cleared throat behind him brought Alexander back to the present.
He turned, took Queen Christiana's hand, much as he had on the way up the stairs and, this time with his right hand, supported her on the way down. Once they reached the floor, he tucked her arm in his elbow, a feeling of protectiveness spreading over him.
Those in the audience continued to applaud as Alexander escorted his bride up the aisle. When they exited, a horse-drawn carriage awaited. They were settled in the padded seat before he spoke directly to his wife.
"Are you comfortable, Queen Christiana?"
Now, out of the view of most of the cameras and other prying eyes, but not completely alone, she let her guard down a bit. "I am fine, Alexander. This ride will be short."
Right. They were only going down to the dock where they would board the royal transport speedboat and go to the mainland. Another carriage awaited them on that side. The parade route led the mile or so through the city streets to the front gate of the palace.
The speed boat ride was both windy and loud. The queen sat in the front, protected as much as possible from the wind by the Plexiglass barrier. Alexander sat behind her, buffering her as much as he could.
He leaned forward and spoke in her ear. "Are you all right? I know this wasn't what you'd planned for today." What he meant was that he wasn't who she'd planned it with.
She turned to face him as best she could. "I am very happy I married you today, Alexander."
Alexander barely heard her and moved closer so she could hear him. "I hope it's okay that I can't wait to kiss you. I understand why, but we can't get to that balcony soon enough for my taste."
The conversation with the Prime Minister came flooding back to him, but he ignored it.
There would be time enough once they reached the honeymoon cabin to deal with it. Until then, he wanted to relish every moment of his wedding day.
* * *
Christiana took a deep breath. Alexander’s hand was wrapped around hers, warm and reassuring, as they prepared to step out onto the balcony. In just a moment, he would kiss her. She would kiss him back. The whole world would be watching.
And if they were not, they would see the replays of it on the news for the next few days, especially once word got out she had married an American.
What was she thinking?
The doors in front of them opened and the others in the wedding party preceded them onto the balcony. Several hundred feet away throngs of people yelled and screamed as they walked out. She did not understand the fascination, but did her best to give her people what they wanted. What they deserved.
Were those words a chant to kiss?
Alexander’s arm came around her waist, pulling her to his side. The moment, earlier, when he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her forehead would forever be implanted in her memory as one of her favorite moments of all time. As queen, she bore so much responsibility, but it was like he had made a pledge to take care of her, to give her someone always on her side, to help shoulder the load. It meant the world to her.
Now, she faced Alexander as he lowered his face to hers. The warmth spread from the zing in her lips all the way down to the tingle in her toes. As kisses go, it was “less” in many ways than the one two weeks earlier, but at the same time, it was “more.”
They waved to the crowd for several minutes. Poppo stood on her other side, a proud father or grandfather for the day. His mere presence did wonders to still the butterflies rampant in her stomach. She would have to make sure to keep in touch with the Engel family.
After about five minutes, they returned inside to take a number of pictures on the property, including a number in the throne room and the garden. As they left the palace, they took a longer parade route until they reached the dock to head to Alexander’s family’s property again.
More pictures took another hour or longer, though this time Christiana did not mind. Alexander was so solicitous, making sure she had a bite to eat, that she would not get hurt or be uncomfortable while shooting pictures in odd locations - like the top of a hay bale. Only fitting, she supposed, since the wedding had taken place in the barn.
No longer were there any restrictions on when Alexander could kiss her. Only the first kiss was reserved for a specific place. He seemed to take great pleasure in following the instructions of the photographer when instructed to “lay one on her.” Alexander’s words. The photographer looked scandalized.
Eventually, they returned to the barn, now transformed into a banquet hall. Only a few more hours until she would be out of the limelight and behind the privacy of closed doors.
Then it hit her.
She would never truly have that privacy again.
For in a few hours, her husband would join her behind those closed doors.
Apprehension filled her as she tried not to think about what the night could bring.
Husband was such a wonderful word.
Unless one really did not want to be married to him in the first place.
Wedding Updates
The new prince consort, Alexander, Duke of Testudines, appeared to wish he could buck tradition at the end of his wedding to Queen Christiana. The Duke instead pressed a kiss to his bride's forehead, reserving the official first kiss for the balcony at the palace where the couple appeared after the parade through the streets of the capitol city of Pagosa. They have since returned to the Bianisola venue where the reception will take place, lasting well into the evening. The royal couple will spend two nights in the cottage on the Baicampo property before spending a week at sea on the royal yacht. They will embark on a two month tour of Ravenzario where they will spend most of their time with Ravenzarians.
Chapter 6
Princess Yvette of Mevendia looked around the barn and wondered if her non-wedding reception would be held here as well.
An arm landed around her shoulders, and she looked up to see one of her older brother standings there. “What’s up, kid?”
She glared at him. “Don’t call me that. I’m practically a married woman.”
Malachi laughed. “You’re still in secondary school. I don’t think ‘practically married woman’ is the right term.”
“When’s my wedding?”
He winced. “June.”
“How far away is that?”
“Seven months.”
“So guess what I’m going to be doing while I’m trying to finish my last year?”
“Planning a wedding.” She could hear the sympathy in his voice. He loved her, even if he did poke fun at her sometimes. “Sorry, kid.”
Yvette leaned her head against him. “He’s dead. Why is Papa making me do this?”