Page 82 of Save a Wish

She offered me a sympathetic pat on the arm before handing me a bouquet of red and white roses with silvery leaves woven into it. Would my behavior today also affect these ladies in waiting? If Cian and my parents had indeed chosen some of them to be spies, would they be punished if they didn’t get me to perform? I didn’t like that their fate might be tied to mine, especially because some of them, like Laoise, seemed genuinely concerned about me.

The walk to the cathedral was too short. We arrived before I was ready. Not that I’d ever be ready to marry Cian. To accept this horrid duty to my family and country.

To doom myself to a life without love.

Two royal guards opened the doors of the cathedral and hundreds of guests turned to look my way. While their gazes bored into me, I kept my own eyes trained on the altar that was both miles away and far too close. My parents sat in their thrones while Cian stood before them, facing me. He was dressed in royal garb, a sash with the crest of Verdalach across his chest, announcing he was part of the governing family of the country.

My sister popped into my head as I stood frozen in my spot outside the cathedral. She’d wanted this duty. Had been ready to accept it. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why.

Music started. Slow organ music that sounded melancholy to me. My brain screamed at me to run, but my legs were traitors and propelled me forward into the cathedral.

The onlookers clearly approved of the pageantry, their smiles wide as I passed by them. Would they be this happy once Cian expanded his role in government? Doubtful.

As I neared the altar, Cian’s victorious smirk made my stomach twist. He resembled a dark lord villain in a video game Beckett and I had played together. That game had ended with the good characters prevailing.

Too bad real life wouldn’t turn out the same.

I stepped up onto the altar and took my place in front of my parents and next to Cian. A quick glance to the first pew let me know my request to have Orla and Fionn attend the wedding as my guests had been granted. At least my parents and husband-to-be had given in to some of my demands. Unfortunately, that agreement would cost me something in the future. I was sure of it.

Orla’s hands were clasped tightly and resting on the pew’s front while Fionn stood stoically beside his sister. Both of them gave me compassionate eyes and I mustered up a smile for them both that I hoped was reassuring.

A priest strode between my parents’ thrones and came to stand before Cian and me. I handed my bouquet to a waiting lady and let Cian take my hands. His fingers were long and slender, his palms smooth and untouched by real work. Despite Beckett’s role at Hartley’s Nest being more office-based, his hands had been as rugged as his brothers’ hands. He’d explained that the Hartley brothers all had hands like their late father’s and that although he didn’t fancy the work his brothers did, he always helped out when needed.

Because that was the kind of man Beckett Hartley was. Kind, helpful, empathetic toward others.

Not at all like the man holding my hands right now.

“We are gathered here today . . .” The priest’s voice got lost while I closed my eyes and imagined Beckett across from me instead. We hadn’t known each other long—and he hadn’t known my real identity—but a blissful warmth, a soul-deep rightness, washed over me at the idea of spending my life married to Beckett.

A sob threatened to escape from my throat over the fact that Beckett would never be mine and I’d never be his and he’d never know how much I loved him. Fortunately, I choked that cry back, tamped it down, forbidding it to release. No one here today wanted to see a bawling bride.

They wanted the flashy show.

“Your Highness.”

I opened my eyes to find Cian scowling at me. The priest and my parents didn’t look much happier. What the hell did they have to be irritated about? They weren’t the ones being coerced into a life they didn’t want.

“I believe your line is I do,” Cian said.

Right. Trouble was I didn’t. I didn’t want any of this. I glanced at Orla and Fionn though. I had to honor my end of the bargain and accept this marriage to keep them out of a life behind bars. In reality, however, all three of us were captives and would remain so as long as we were on Verdalachian soil.

“I . . .” My throat was incredibly dry and I longed for a one of those apple cider slushies I’d had with Beckett at the corn maze. “I . . .” Couldn’t make myself say the word do. My mouth wouldn’t form the single syllable. “I . . .”

“Come now, Princess.” Cian’s jaw clenched. “Don’t be shy.” He motioned to the full cathedral. “All these lovely people are here to celebrate us.”

“Not all of them.”

My head whipped to the center aisle where Beckett stood.

And clearly I was experiencing hallucinations brought on by stress and extreme despair.

“Guards!” Cian shouted. “Remove this man at once!”

A hallucination wouldn’t need guards to remove it, would it? But how could Beckett be here? Now? Looking incredible in a black suit?

Shuffling sounded as four guards raced toward what I still half believed was a mirage. I squeezed my eyes shut then opened them, focusing now on the man held by two guards on either side of him. When our gazes met, I finally realized this was no vision brought on by my mental state.

Beckett Hartley was truly here.