Sarah
"Prince Daniel is in stable condition and a complete recovery from his injuries is expected. He will be released to the care of his personal physician in Esher within the week and will be accompanied on the journey home by his fiancee, Miss Sarah Bennett of Henley. The Royal Family thanks everyone for their kindness and concern during this difficult time."
The press release set off a shock wave across the country and started a celebration like none before. Two princes engaged, two royal weddings! Immediately there was speculation about an unprecedented double wedding, but Daniel just laughed and said 'no way' and I was glad that he wanted our wedding day to be ours alone, as I did.
We hadn't planned to make the announcement so soon, of course, but word had leaked out. The newspaper was good enough to call and confirm before running the story, so King Nicholas had his secretary whip up the brief official announcement and released it with our approval.
After eight days in Wellington, Daniel was transferred to the hospital in Esher. After being with him much of every day, the five days it took me to pack up my cottage and follow him seemed like five years. Mr. Davenport was able to find a flat for me a mile or so from the castle so that I would be close by once Daniel was released.
Daniel quickly grew tired of the hospital, tired of not being able to walk or even stand. Nothing less would do but for him to have the quickest recovery on record. Six weeks after the accident the heavy plaster casts came off and were replaced by lighter "walking casts". Some of the older doctors thought it was too early, but Daniel was excited. I knew he imagined himself getting out of bed, heading out the door, and walking right on home. And then he stood for the first time.
Doctor Benjamin, who'd been Daniel's best advocate in his campaign to walk so soon, brought the crutches, and he and Alex helped him to his feet and held him while he got balanced. "Now, slow and steady," he said. "Just a few steps at first." Alex stepped a little closer and I watched from behind as Daniel tested himself, pushing up with his arms and adjusting his grip, and got ready to take his first step in six weeks.
Watching him stand there, relearning his balance, an old memory resurfaced and a giggle escaped me. "What's so funny?" Daniel demanded with a grin, starting to look over his shoulder at me and quickly thinking better of it as he swayed dangerously.
I moved around in front of him so that he wouldn't have to fall over to see me. "Weebles wobble but they don't fall down."
"Is that another Canadian thing?" he asked. He seemed so tall, looking down at me for the first time in too long. "And what, pray tell, is a Weeble?"
I backed away a few steps, giving him more room to maneuver. "You are. That should be my new pet name for you. Do you like it?"
"Not so much, and come back here. I want to try kissing you from up here."
I raised my brows and backed up another two steps. "If you want a kiss, come and get it."
"Oho," he laughed. "You don't think I will?"
"We'll see, won't we?"
He swung toward me without thinking, only to realize an instant too late that he didn't have a clue what he was doing. He yelped as he felt himself toppling forward toward me, but Alex was there to grab one arm and the doctor grabbed the other and they patiently righted him again.
"Feet together, remember?" the doctor chided. "You don't have one good leg to stand on."
"Sorry," Daniel grinned sheepishly. "Forgot." I watched him get himself steady again, shrugging off their hands, then he drew in a big breath. Then he looked down at his feet and let it right back out again. "Wait. What?"
Doctor Ben, as Daniel liked to call him, chuckled and patiently reviewed the technique for walking on crutches with two broken legs, and Daniel nodded and got ready again, then hesitated. He grinned nervously at me. "This is a little scarier than I thought it would be."
"Don't worry," I smiled. "I'll catch you."
He adjusted his grip one last time, took in one more big breath, and carefully launched. And landed safely, a whopping six inches from where he'd started. Even he had to laugh. "Yikes," he grimaced.
"Enough for today?" I said dryly.
"Not on your life. I want my reward." He wound up again and managed a good ten inches, although he couldn't hide a wince of pain at the strain on his ribs as he lifted himself. Another step, then he stopped for a breather. Doctor Ben cleared his throat and I knew he was about to suggest that he stop for now, but Daniel wasn't having it. He steeled himself and went again, grunting softly with the effort and nearly falling, but he managed to right himself before Alex and Dr. Ben could grab him. Once more and finally he landed right in front of me, smiling smugly. "Okay, I made it. Where's my kiss?"
I put on a surprised expression. "Oh, sorry, did you mean here? Because I meant..." I took three large steps back. "Here."
"Why do I want to marry you again?" he asked, trying to look exasperated but grinning instead.
"Because I'm so darn cute?"
"That's it. Come here, you."
I laughed and came back to where Daniel stood, gave him a good sound kiss, then slipped my arms under his and hugged him gently. "You did it," I said. "You walked to me."
"No, I ran to you. Just very slowly." He kissed my hair, then nudged me away. "Back up again and get ready, because here I come."
September 14
Daniel
The sun shone brightly, intensifying the colors of autumn, as we drove over the grassy hills and away from the castle. Since I was unable to drive, Sarah was behind the wheel of the Land Rover, following my directions and occasionally grinding a gear as we lurched along. There was a long-unused road we could have taken, but it was weedy and rough and I wanted her to see the carriage house the same way I had. I'd always imagined myself taking her on horseback, but it would be some time before I was allowed to ride again and there was no way I could wait that long.
My doctors had pronounced me fit enough to be released just three hours earlier, although I was still frustratingly slow and awkward on my new forearm crutches. Physical therapy would be a part of my life for a while if I hoped to ever beat Sarah in another footrace on the beach, but I wasn't thinking about footraces just now; I had been waiting for this ride for two long months.
A bump in the grass jolted us both, she grimaced over at me, and I sat back and rested my hand on her leg as we continued on. It was a very nice leg, attached to a very nice body that I would soon be getting to know intimately, and to say I was looking forward to our honeymoon was a massive understatement. With the news of our engagement leaking out only days after I'd proposed, I'd seen no sense in waiting to marry. So we weren't.
We'd already started planning what was by royal standards a small wedding, leaving the glitz and pageantry for Andrew and Madelyn. As the future king and queen, their wedding would be the event of the generation, which is the way Sarah and I preferred it. They'd been great about us marrying first, even Madelyn, who honestly I'd expected to have a little tantrum about the whole thing.
Topping the last rise, our destination came into view, and I pointed Sarah toward it. Before my ill-fated trip to Henley, I'd spent the better part of two afternoons there, wanting the worst of the grime gone before she saw it. I'd cleaned the windows of the carriage house the way Sarah taught me, using newspapers to prevent streaking, and all these weeks later they still gleamed in the sun as we approached. Inside, the dust and cobwebs were gone, cabinets cleaned and floors swept, furniture uncovered. The rest we would do together.
Sarah pulled up in front, shut off the engine, then came around and waited as I got my crutches onto my arms and struggled to my feet. "Where are we exactly?" she asked, windblown and red-cheeked from our ride in the open Rover.
"It used to be a carriage house," I said, remembering the day my father had first brought me here and given me the same answer.
"And what is it now?"
I dug the key out of my jeans pocket, unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Actually, it's sort of a wedding gift."
"A building?" she asked doubtfully. She leaned forward and peeked inside, then turned back to me. "Thanks, sweetie. I've always wanted a building."
I laughed and gestured for her to go in first, then followed. She stood hesitantly by the door, as if she were intruding. "Come on, I'll give you a tour." I showed her the front room, pointing out the old stone fireplace, and on to the kitchen, the bath with an old-fashioned clawfoot tub, and the two bedrooms. There was no way I could make it up the narrow, twisting staircase, so I sent her up alone and waited at the bottom. I could hear her footsteps going this way and that as she discovered the two more small bedrooms, tiny half bath, and the large attic room that could be anything one wanted it to be. Then she came clomping carefully back down the stairs and we went into the front room again and she stood there looking around while I looked at her.
"Okay, spill," she said. "What is this place?"
"Our house," I said, feeling more nervous than I'd expected to. "If you want it."
She turned to me, looking confused. "Our house? But... I thought we had to live in the castle."
"You hate castles, remember?"
She winced guiltily. "I don't hate them exactly. They're just don't seem like..."
"Home," I supplied.
"Well... yes." She stepped up to me and leaned against me gently, and I balanced myself and lifted one crutch and wrapped my arm around her waist. "But your family all lives in the castle, and Andrew and Madelyn are going to live in the castle when they're married. I'll live anywhere if you're there too."
"Then I choose here," I said decisively. She looked up at me, and I couldn't help but see the sparkle of excitement in her eyes, and I laughed. "Besides, a newly married couple should have a little privacy, don't you think?"
She nodded happily, then turned and looked around her again in wonder. "So, this is real? We could really live here, just the two of us?"
"We'll have a lot of work to do, of course," I told her. "Cleaning it up, painting the walls, maybe plant some flowers or a little garden. And new plumbing. I've been sketching out some ideas, and I think maybe we could even add on - "
I didn't get to finish my sentence because Sarah flew at me and hugged me tightly, knocking me back a step. I tottered, then toppled backwards with her still hanging on, and we landed with an 'oof' on the old wooden floor. I blinked in surprise and looked up to find Sarah grinning happily at me from her position on top of me, and I burst out laughing. "You're okay, I take it?" I asked.
"Perfect. You?"
"Fantastic." I shook off the one crutch I still had and wrapped both my arms snugly around her. "So?"
"When can we get to work?" she asked.
"As soon as you kiss me," I grinned.
"Again with the kisses," she groaned, rolling her eyes, but I kissed her anyway.
October 18
Sarah
One month since Daniel came home, two months until the wedding, and life was good. Since he was still unsteady on his feet, I was Daniel's new constant companion when he would make an appearance, and it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected. People were all smiles, shaking my hand since his were busy with his crutches, handing me flowers and small gifts until I couldn't hold any more.
Most of the press attention had been positive, although I could have done with less attention on my figure. Madelyn had taken me shopping soon after my move to Esher and, thanks to her years of experience and good advice, I now had a wardrobe that was suitable for a future princess and yet still 'me'. And I'd kept my blue birthday dress, hoping to find just the right occasion to wear it and just maybe knock Daniel's socks off.
Any spare time we had was spent working on the Carriage House. It was tough on Daniel at first, but he was determined. As his legs grew strong again and he graduated to one crutch, he was able to do more and more of the work, and together we cleaned and scrubbed the old place to within an inch of its life.
The painting was my favorite. For no particular reason at the time, I'd lugged along the paint Matty'd given me, and now I was glad I had. Of course we could have bought all new paint, but it seemed more special this way. A touch of Henley here in Esher, I decided. The only problem was, once I started painting and saw the old place coming to life, I didn't want to stop.
So one morning when Daniel had a meeting with the Art Board (who had taken his design out of contention when he was injured and unavailable) to discuss using his design elsewhere, I biked over and went to work on my own. I'd completely lost track of time when my cell phone rang, and I grimaced when I saw it was Daniel. "Hello, love," I answered as innocently as I could manage.
"Where are you?" he asked right away, and I made a face at the phone. "My meeting's over and I wanted to take you out to lunch."
"You're sweet. But I'm a little, um, busy."
"Too busy for me?"
I looked around me. "Sort of?"
He laughed. "You are a piece of work, Sarah Bennett. You think I don't know you're painting without me?"
"I am not." A soft squeak behind me made me spin around, and there was Daniel walking into the room, his phone at his ear.
"Are too," he said into the phone, then ended the call and leaned on his crutch as he bent to kiss my nose. "I should fire you."
"Just try it," I challenged.
"Okay, you're fired."
"I am not."
He burst out laughing. "Well, that clears that right up, doesn't it?"
"Besides, what are you doing here without telling me you were coming?" I retorted, looking pointedly at his worn jeans and Normal Daniel shirt. "And those don't look like going out to lunch clothes. You were coming to work too, weren't you?"
"Maybe," he grinned.
"Oh, the betrayal," I sighed.
"Oh, please," he said dryly, reaching out and pulling me up hard against him. He dipped his head and I felt his lips trace a path down the side of my throat. And I don't know what possessed me to use the paintbrush I held in my right hand, but when Daniel felt the sticky line of Pumpkin Pecan begin to drip down his neck, he let me go and stepped back with a sly smile.
"Stay right there." He reached down and grabbed the paint roller I'd used earlier, then casually dipped it into the puddle of paint in the tray. Lifting it, he studied it for a moment, then reached out and rolled it down my nose and over my chin. "You know, that color looks good on you," he observed.
"Thanks so much." I held up a finger. "One moment." I went to the other side of the room and returned with a small can of Forest Green, found a small trim brush and dipped it in. "I think this will set off your eyes." I drew a careful stripe across each cheek, then finished it off with a smiley face on his chin as he watched me steadily. "Oh yes," I nodded. "Very nice."
Daniel stood there looking at me, perfectly calm. I smiled brightly. He smiled back, then grabbed for the can of paint in my hand. And the war began.
December 23, 2012
Daniel
The cathedral buzzed with anticipation. I stepped forward to take my place at the altar, with Andrew at my side, faced the aisle and clasped my hands in front of me. Letting my eyes sweep over our guests, I found the Czech prime minister, who nodded and smiled, pointing to his tie. A few rows over, the president of the Art Board studied his programme. Across the aisle, Drew, Sharon and the others craned their necks excitedly, waiting for the appearance of the bride and Mary, her maid of honor.
Madelyn and her family sat a row or two ahead of them, looking calm and collected. And right up front, my aunt carefully readied her handkerchief while my father sat beaming at Andrew and I. Beside him, Lew sat straight and dignified in his morning coat and grey trousers.
It wasn't until I felt Andrew's steadying touch on my arm that I realized I was bouncing slightly on my toes. I stopped, giving him a nervous smile of thanks, then turned back just as the music swelled. The congregation stood, I drew in a deep breath. The heavy doors at the end of the long aisle slowly swung open, and there she was, stepping into view on her brother Evan's arm, my sweet Sarah.
Her gown was elegantly cut plain white silk, charmingly free of the usual mess of lace and pearls, hugging her shoulders and flowing softly to the floor. Her face was unveiled, her hair crowned with a simple circlet of gold woven with miniature daisies. And she was beautiful, as I knew she would be.
As they began the long walk down the aisle, passing hundreds of guests that she didn't know, our eyes met and held. Don't be scared, I tried to say. Just walk to me.
If you want a kiss, come and get it.
A smile touched her lips, as if she knew what I was thinking, and I grinned back eagerly. If there'd been any way to shorten the aisle, we'd have both jumped on it. She didn't like being on display for so long, and I didn't like waiting. During the rehearsal, she'd teased me by going as slowly as possible, until finally I broke from my position and jogged to meet her, and brought her the rest of the way by piggyback and plopped her down at the altar. Even the priest had gotten a laugh out of it, although he declined to incorporate that particular change into the ceremony.
A movement up front caught my eye as my father tried to hide a yawn behind his hand, and his eyes crinkled at me when he saw I'd noticed. It was my fault, keeping him up until long after midnight because I was too excited to sleep. He'd looked for me before heading up to bed, and found me in the kitchen with the big red book at my elbow, and for the next two hours sat patiently at the counter, listening to me talk about our progress on the Carriage House while I whipped up a double batch of lemon tarts.
In the three months since my release from the hospital, we'd spent much of our free time working, sketching, planning, painting. I'd started the work on two crutches, continued it on one, then a cane and, as of two weeks ago, with nothing but my own two legs. The doctors, who'd warned me that a December wedding date would likely have me still using crutches or canes, had laughed when I walked into my last appointment unaided and admitted that 'what Daniel wants, Daniel gets.'
The little house still had work to be done, but it was far enough along for me to plan one last surprise. Instead of leaving on our honeymoon tonight as Sarah expected, we would spend our wedding night in our very own home. Knowing tradition would keep Sarah and I apart for the day, I'd spent most of yesterday there, directing a small but trusted staff, and then dismissing them to arrange the few final details myself.
Sarah's brass bed from the cottage now graced the master bedroom, topped with the same patchwork quilt she'd used since she was a child. Her mismatched dishes were stacked in the cupboards, and below, the frying pans I'd learned on. In the refrigerator, eggs and ham awaited our first married breakfast along with a bottle of champagne.
White roses in the blue vase graced the mantle in the front room, and a trail of white petals led the way down the hall. Two slightly-used tennis rackets hung on the wall at the head of the bed. And soft, thick towels were folded over the edge of the clawfoot tub that might just be big enough for two if we tried hard enough.
An unexpected clatter caught my attention, and everyone else's, as an older gentleman somehow lost his grip on his cane. It hit the marble floor and bounced into the aisle, and the poor man shrank in embarrassment as the noise echoed through the cathedral. I saw Sarah's head turn as she whispered something to Evan and, contrary to the carefully orchestrated plan, they stopped. As I, and the rest of the country watched, Sarah withdrew her arm, trotted over and retrieved the cane and returned it to its owner, who bowed his thanks. She whispered a few soft words to him, slipped back into place, took Evan's arm once again, and they resumed their stately walk as if nothing had happened.
How I loved that woman.
Finally she was close enough that I could extend my hand, and when she slipped hers into it, I gripped her fingers with an unusually firm, unyielding grip. She looked up at me curiously, and with my gaze I tried to tell her how much it meant that she would go through this for me, change her whole life for me. And then she smiled at me, and I knew she'd understood.
"Who gives this woman to be wed?" the priest intoned solemnly and Evan, who I'd met exactly two days ago and who'd given me his somewhat overwhelmed permission to marry his sister, cleared his throat and spoke.
"I do." With a nod from the priest, he withdrew Sarah's hand from his arm once more, kissed her cheek, and took his seat while we turned to face the priest.
I don't know about Sarah, but I didn't even notice the cameras after that. It was as if it were only the three of us there as the priest spoke to us of the meaning of love and marriage, and instead of being bored out of my mind, I hung on every word.
In what seemed like only moments, Andrew was handing me a ring and I was sliding it onto Sarah's finger, speaking the solemn vows that bound me to her forever. And when she slid my ring on and I heard her voice repeating my words, soft but sure, I could barely swallow for the emotion clogging my throat. She was mine, and I was hers, and at the priest's invitation we shared our first kiss as man and wife.
The roaring cheers of the crowds gathered outside filtered into the cathedral, and I broke our kiss with a grin spreading across my face. Sarah was smiling too, and I rested my forehead against hers. "See?" I whispered. "I told you so."
"Told me so what?"" she asked, her teasing eyes narrowing suspiciously.
I kissed her once more, lightly, but with a hint of promise of so much more to come. "Fairy tales really do come true."
The End