Chapter 9 - The Prince's Choice
Prince Alexander stared down at the woman kneeling at his boots for a long, agonizing minute.
The silence inside the Bishop’s Library was so absolute that the distant sound of church bells tolling the quarter hour outside sounded like thunder.
Rachel looked up through smeared mascara, her lips trembling as she reached for his hands.
“Alexander, remember who we are,” she pleaded, her voice cracking.
“Think about the last two years.”
“I love you.”
“I made a mistake because I was terrified of losing you.”
“Doesn't that count for anything?”
Alexander slowly withdrew his hands, tucking them firmly behind the small of his back.
“You looked me in the eye on the anniversary of our engagement,” he said, his voice dropping into a register of quiet heartbreak.
“You sat in my garden at Kensington and wept because you said you missed your sister.”
“I held you for an hour while you cried into my shoulder about how much you wished she could see you walk down the aisle.”
Rachel’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“You weren't crying for her,” Alexander continued, a single tear escaping his eye and tracing down his cheek.
“You were crying because you were acting.”
“You turned the life of a living, breathing officer—your own flesh and blood—into a performance to make me love you more.”
Alexander turned away from her and walked over to the library table.
He looked down at the forged documents, at Rachel’s loopy signature beneath the false declaration of death.
Then he looked at me.
His gaze swept over my uniform, lingering on the medals pinned over my heart.
He stepped forward and bowed his head slightly.
“Commander Carter.”
“Your Royal Highness,” I replied, keeping my bearing professional.
“I apologize to you on behalf of my family,” he said softly.
“You should never have been subjected to this indignity.”
“Your service is an honor to your country, and it would have been an honor to ours.”
He turned back toward the King, his posture straightening as he reached up and unfastened the crimson sash of the Irish Guards from his shoulder.
“Father,” Alexander said, his voice regaining its royal composure.
“The marriage cannot proceed.”
Rachel let out a piercing wail and collapsed fully against the floor, her diamond tiara slipping loose from her hair and clattering against the oak floorboards.
King Henry nodded once, a grim sense of finality in his expression.
“A wise decision, my boy.”
“A house built on deceit cannot bear the weight of a crown.”
The King turned toward Captain Thorne.
“Captain.”
“Sire?”
“Escort Miss Carter back to the private apartments.”
“Have her stripped of all royal jewelry, including the tiara.”
“Her personal belongings are to be packed within the hour, and she will be placed on a commercial flight back to the United States tonight.”
“Understood, Your Majesty.”
Two guards stepped forward, lifted Rachel by her elbows, and hauled her to her feet.
She didn't fight them.
Her eyes were glazed, completely detached from reality as the fairy tale she had spent her life constructing crumbled into dust around her.
As they dragged her toward the door, she looked at me one last time.
There was no anger left in her eyes, only the hollow, terrified realization that the sister she had tried to bury was the only one left standing tall.
The doors closed behind her, cutting off the rustle of her silk train.
The King walked back to his chair and picked up a ceremonial sword lying across the table.
“Now,” King Henry said, looking between Alexander and me.
“We have two hundred international dignitaries, twelve television networks, and five thousand citizens waiting outside in the rain.”
“They have been promised a procession.”
Alexander looked up, confusion crossing his face.
“Father? The wedding is canceled.”
“The wedding is canceled,” the King agreed, his gray eyes flashing with naval steel.
“The spectacle is not.”
“The world needs to know that this crown does not tolerate cowards, liars, or those who disrespect the uniform.”
The King looked at me.
“Commander Carter.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“You were denied your rightful place beside your family today.”
“You were told your uniform was an embarrassment.”
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“Now, you will do me the honor of accompanying the sovereign down the grand aisle of St. Jude’s Cathedral.”
“We will show this court what true honor looks like.”
