Royal Desire(17)
“For what are we without laws? It was a law that was put in place for a very good reason. It was a law that protected Moldavia’s sovereignty in its time. It was a law that allows us to walk freely today and count ourselves as one of the richest nations in the world.”
Tears run down my cheeks and stain my lips with their salt. I do not attempt to brush them off.
“But in accepting the letter of the law and acceding to the decision of His Grace, the Archbishop of Moldavia, I will find it impossible to perform my duties as King without the woman I love by my side. The decision I have made is mine and mine alone, and it is a decision for the greater good of my fellow countrymen.”
A hand snakes around my shoulders. Madame Fournier, her eyes glistening, has chosen this moment to crumble her ice queen façade and comfort me in my hour of need.
“The decision has been made less difficult for me by the sure knowledge that my sister, Marie Vassar, will succeed me. Marie has graduated with top honors from Yale in economics, and with her brilliance and ambition, she will undoubtedly steer this country to further magnificence.”
He pauses, clearly overwrought. Marie steps up from the side, her eyes shining with tears. She takes her brother’s arm.
Alex continues, his voice shaking slightly, “Let us welcome into this twenty-first century the first female ruler of Moldavia. Long live the Queen. God bless you, my fellow citizens.”
The video feed winks out.
The room is silent as the anchorwoman cuts in with a “Now, that was a stunner of a speech.”
Yes. I know.
I bow my head and sob my heart out for Alex and everything he has lost for me. I sob and sob, unable to stop even to draw breath. My head hurts with a splitting headache and I can feel my soul splintering in two.
Madame Fournier puts her arms around me.
“He didn’t want us to let you know what he was doing. He was afraid you would try to stop him or do something as foolish as you did like leaving him for his own good,” she says.
I would have done it too. I can’t bear how much Alex has given up for me. It isn’t fair to him. It isn’t fair!
They let me cry and cry until I’m dry all over, and then they leave, sensing that I’m not going to stop crying anytime soon within the day. The light outside the windows shift and change, denoting the passing of the sun. I stay there in the parlor, stoned – not moving, not even blinking until the door quietly opens.
Alex slips into the room.
He immediately kneels before my inert body, still in the chair. My face is puffy and my eyes as red as the indentations of my fingernails on my palms. I am now tearless and soulless.
“Liz?” he says in a low voice. He does not seem saddened in the least. Years have disappeared from his face and his eyes are bright and clear.
“Why, Alex, why?” I whisper.
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“Because I love you more than anything in this world, and nothing is going to stop me from marrying you and raising a family with you. I don’t want the throne, Liz. I never did. It’s something I have never craved. Marie would make a much, much better ruler, trust me. I did it for us, for Moldavia, for my family and everyone else – so that everyone can have what they want.”
“The greater good,” I say dully.
“Yes, the greater good.” He clasps my face and runs the pad of his thumb down my dried cheeks. “Oh, Liz, Liz . . . you’re so beautiful.”
“I look awful.”
“No. You’re the most beautiful thing in the world to me. And finally now we are free. Free of responsibility, of sorts . . . free to do anything we wish. We can go around the world, do anything we want. Don’t you see? This is the best thing I could have ever done for us.”
My mind is still reeling from the shock of this afternoon’s events, but yes . . . I’m slowly beginning to see it too. Alex can be what he was when I first met him – a prince. Only now, he’s removed from the burden of responsibility. Yes, he will have responsibilities, but his life is not dictated to the whims of the palace so much anymore.
He grins. “So what do you say? Shall we set the date?”
EPILOGUE
It’s eight months later.
The day of my wedding dawns fair and bright. I wake up at five to begin my makeup and hair. Monsieur Danton teases my tresses into a mass of flowing waves that will gleam in the sun. Stella Catalan, now world famous as a Moldavian fashion export, has designed my wedding gown.
Even I cannot believe how gorgeous I look. The bodice is my dress is done up in ivory motifs of the azalea, which is the national flower of Moldavia, and seeded with pearls and little diamonds. The ivory gown is a puffed-up inverted flower, so elaborate that you should see me float in it. I’m a shimmering cloud.