DESPITE the snow, the crowds were at least five people deep all along the route to Poltenbrunn Cathedral. Thousands of flower arrangements had been brought in to decorate the streets and there were streamers and banners everywhere she looked.
It was the strangest sensation to know that they were there for her—her and Seb. Wishing them well.
And her tiara felt heavy. She’d spent the last two months practising walking in it and it was harder than one would imagine. As was the royal wave. Seb seemed to manage something with a flick of the wrist, but hers still needed work.
Her father smiled across at her. ‘Nervous?’
‘Just a little.’
He leant over to grip hold of her hand and Marianne felt a surge of love towards him and her mother. Her parents had made mistakes, but so had she. She was just grateful they were here.
The glass-topped Rolls-Royce Phantom IV stopped in front of the steps leading up to the cathedral and she was aware that millions of eyes would be watching her climb out of the car. Pencils across Europe would be poised to begin the race to see how quickly they could get a copy of her dress in the shops.
She drew a shaky breath. But none of that mattered. What mattered was the man waiting for her inside. The man who’d been prepared to give all of this up for her—because he loved her.
Marianne stood still while the dress designer moved about her, first adjusting her antique silk veil and then the five metres of train that would stretch out behind her down the aisle. The off-white silk had been covered in Andovarian embroidery, all done by hand and exquisitely beautiful.
But none of it mattered—just the man.
She gripped her bouquet of white roses and sweetly smelling lilies of the valley and walked through the doors to Poltenbrunn Cathedral. Lights were flashing everywhere in bright bursts all around her and camera crews were catching every expression she made.
Behind her she was aware of Isabelle and Beth organising the fourteen young bridesmaids chosen from old aristocratic families. Every detail had been thought about, planned with military precision.
But, none of it mattered. As the organist struck the first chord Seb turned. So far away, right down by the altar, waiting for her to walk towards him. He smiled and her nerves vanished.
Dressed in full military regalia he looked every inch the prince he was. But it didn’t matter. She was marrying the man. For better, for worse. Whatever life threw at them, good or bad.
Seb’s eyes never wavered from hers as he watched her make her way towards him. Marianne didn’t notice the crowned heads of Europe and beyond, the politicians and diplomats that sat in the pews. She didn’t even notice the carefully chosen white flowers and green plants that decorated an already beautiful cathedral.
Just Seb.
And then, as she came level, he reached for her hand and his smile told him how much he loved her. Would always love her.
Marianne had been nervous about so many elements of the day, but Seb was right. In the event, she forgot the millions of people watching every move she made, all she could see was Seb.
She felt him slide the unbroken platinum band on her third finger. Her German was slightly faltering, but nothing had ever felt more right than sliding her ring on his hand. Heard the moment they were pronounced husband and wife.
Marianne moved dream-like through much of the service, but she would always remember the moment she signed the register. ‘My princess now,’ Seb whispered quietly.
Princess Marianne of Andovaria. Strange. A new life. New responsibilities and challenges. But whatever they were, Seb would be right alongside her.
He took hold of her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm and led her out of the cathedral in a peel of bells. Marianne heard the cheer go up like a wall of sound and then a more distinct, ‘Kiss her.’
Seb turned towards her and she could read the intention in his eyes, the deep glimmer of pride and sheer joy. ‘Your mother said to wait until the balcony,’ she whispered.
His smile broke forth. ‘Yes, she did, didn’t she?’
Marianne knew he had no intention of waiting when his eyes flicked to her lips.
‘I love you.’
To the sound of cheering, Seb bent his head and kissed her.