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Authors: Lilah Pace

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“Yes?”

“I thought I ought to say—Mum and Dad would be so happy if they could see this.”

“Maybe they can. I hope they can.”

James reached out with his free hand to lay it across her arm. “I hope so too.”

***

Ben had never been a person who paid much attention to royal weddings, to put it lightly. Yet for the past few months he had been surrounded by the myriad plans and preparations for Indigo’s ceremony, drawn into minutiae such as helping to approve the “official wedding crest” with its united A&Z. It was a relief to get it over with, he thought—especially as Indigo didn’t buckle under the strain, but instead looked glowingly happy at the altar.

And the sight of James in uniform . . . well. It might be Indigo’s wedding night, but Ben thought he might want to do some honeymooning of his own once the celebrations were through.

As for his part, he wore a morning suit in dove gray, which made him feel a little like Freddy Eynsford-Hill. At least Spencer was wearing more or less the same thing, and they were both sitting with Cassandra, who wore a canary-colored hat with feathers that seemed to defy physics, so Ben was pretty sure nobody was looking at him.

Except, of course, James, as he came up the aisle, escorting Indigo; he’d glanced over at Ben just long enough for a wink.

Once the ceremony, Ben was able to ride in the carriage with James to Buckingham Palace, where apparently they had to show themselves to the public before anyone could eat. As everyone gathered in the balcony room, and Indigo’s attendants fluttered around her, fluffing her skirt anew, Ben turned his attention to straightening James’s blue sash.

“She’s so happy,” James murmured. “I always told myself this could happen, but I didn’t believe it until I saw it.”

“Indigo found a way.” Marrying Zale was only one of the ways she’d rebuilt her life, something she’d done only after putting the rest in order. “How long will you guys be out there?”

“Not sure. Ten, twenty minutes? Sometimes it seems like eternity,” James said.

But then the queen interjected, “You will of course walk out with the rest of the family, Benjamin.”

Ben stared. So did James. Richard opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again without comment. A hush fell. Yes, Ben had been taking part in more and more royal business during the past year, but walking out on the balcony to greet the crowds was something else altogether.

Someone had to speak, so Ben ventured, “Me, Your Majesty?”

“The two of you
do
intend to marry, don’t you?”

James and Ben exchanged a glance. They hadn’t actually discussed it in a while, but . . . “Yes, ma’am,” Ben said as James began to smile. “We do.”

“Then it is only sensible for you to join the family on the balcony,” the queen said. “When we are asked about it, we can explain that you two have been engaged for some time but did not wish to take the spotlight away from Amelia by saying so. Thus we will announce the impending marriage without an official announcement, avoiding any controversy that might mar the happy occasion.” She seemed very pleased with herself. “You see, I can be modern.”

“Very well-thought-out, Your Majesty.” Ben had to admit, even Kimberley Tseng couldn’t have planned it better.

The buzz of preparation resumed, and James was now the one fussing with Ben’s tie. He said, “You realize we won’t have a wedding on this scale.”

“God, I hope not.”

James kept brushing off the shoulders of Ben’s suit. “For us it’s going to be a small private civil ceremony. Maybe some well-wishers outside.”

“As long as we get the honeymoon, I’ll be happy.” Really there was just
something
about James with his beard, in that uniform.

“Of course, as we’re not marrying in the Church, you can’t become my official Prince Consort,” James said. “But Grandfather will grant you a title, so you’ll be able to have proper precedence. I’ve been looking over some of the available dukedoms.”

“What?”

James grinned. “The ‘Duke of Exeter’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

At no point had anyone mentioned anything about Ben becoming the Duke of Exeter—though by now Ben knew enough about royal protocol to realize he ought to have anticipated something like this. It felt absurd, but in a good way. Just one more strange twist his life had taken all because of his love for James.

“We should hold the ceremony soon,” James continued. “Within a few months. Better while I’m Prince of Wales.”

He referred to the declining health of the king. While there had been no other major health crisis, the king’s attention became shorter as his constitution became frailer. It already seemed clear that, within the year, James would either be regent again or inherit the throne. “Yes,” Ben said. “We’ll get married right away.”

Softly James said, “I just realized I never proposed properly. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s all right. We’ve understood each other for a while.” Ben folded James’s hand between his. “Besides, I didn’t ask you either, so I ought to apologize to you too.”

“Oh, you couldn’t have asked me. It wouldn’t have been legal.”

“Really?”

“Really,” James said. “So I ought to have—”

“Shhh.” Ben squeezed his hand again. “It doesn’t matter. If you want, you can propose tonight. I’ll even pretend to be surprised.”

That delighted James, Ben could tell. They shared a smile, a moment in which their coming wedding belonged to them alone. “Would you? Oh, wait. Here we go.”

Little flower girls swarmed around their feet as everyone approached the doors. James adjusted his hat; Ben told himself it was ludicrous to feel nervous. In front of them all, Indigo stood next to Zale, her arm in his, as he whispered into her ear—words of encouragement as she faced the crowd for the final time today.

Then the doors opened, and the roar welled up.

My God
, Ben thought,
listen to it
! It was one thing to hear the din outside, but another to stand in front of it, to behold the vast sea of people waving Union Jacks in bright blue, white and red, and to feel that wild cheering and ecstatic energy all aimed in your direction. Indigo and Zale were at the heart of that energy, of course, but as he and James took their places at the side, Ben still felt the rush.

Maybe this was what it was like to be Bruce Springsteen.

Of course, James handled it like the pro he was, holding up his hand while smiling toward his sister. “Come on,” he murmured to Ben.

Ben knew what he meant. “Really?”

“Really. You heard Grandmother. You’re part of the family now.”

He felt strangely bashful—as though he were being inappropriate, but that was foolish. If Ben belonged anywhere in the world, he belonged here at James’s side. So he lifted his hand to the crowd, and waved.

Lilah Pace
 is a pseudonym for a 
New York Times
 bestselling author. She is the author of 
His Royal Secret

Begging for It 
and 
Asking for It
.

For those friends who read this story first and have given me so much support and encouragement along the way

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