Striking (Red Lips & White Lies Book 7)

A king doesn’t protect his queen because she’s weak.

He protects her because she is his.

—Rhys’s Secret Thoughts

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” my gorgeous wife asks as her assistant fastens the clasp on her necklace, then curtsies and leaves us alone. “I mean, I think I could get Vaughn to sneak us out through the back door, and we could be on the jet and back at the villa in just a few hours. No one would need to know where we are.”

She runs her hands over my military uniform that I chose for today, adjusting each button nervously, as if they were facing the wrong way.

“Would it be just the two of us or would I need to share you with everyone?” I ask because I know she and my sister have already planned a massive family vacation for next summer, once her brothers’ hockey season is over. Both families on the island. If my math is correct, that’s fourteen kids running around. But if that’s what my wife wants, I’ll damn sure make it happen for her.

“It depends on how long we’re going to stay. I might need to bring my ob-gyn if it’ll be more than a week or two.”

God, I fucking love her.

“I love you, Bellamy. Thank you for not running. Some days, I think you should have, but I’m so grateful you didn’t.” I press my palm to the side of her bump and love the way our baby kicks me back. “I say we stick around for a few hours. I hear we’re kind of needed for the ceremony today.”

Her caramel eyes glitter in the late morning sun streaming through the windows more than any diamond ever could. “I’ll meet you downstairs, Your Highness.”

“Yes, my queen.” I kiss her lips quickly before I can be reprimanded for ruining her makeup and leave her to finish getting ready. The palace is bustling with activity as I make my way downstairs, but one person catches my attention more than the others. He stands at the foot of the stairs, looking deep in thought when I stop next to him. “Everything okay, Cross?”

He bows his head quickly, even though I’ve told our families it isn’t necessary. “I was hoping to see Bellamy before she leaves but didn’t want to interrupt her.”

“She’ll be down soon,” I assure him and wait. Cross and I are more alike than he realizes, so it’s easy to know there’s something on his mind.

“She told me what you did . . . that you were willing to give this all up for her.”

“I would have. Atticus may have killed me for it, but if it meant I got to keep her, I would have done it all in a heartbeat.” And I’d do it again.

He looks around at all the activity swarming around us. “This is a lot to give up.”

“She’s worth more.”

“She’s worth everything. Did she ever tell you there was a point where they didn’t know if she’d make it? Her odds were getting worse every day. She was so small and so pale and so fucking young. And they didn’t know how much more her body could take . . .” He gets lost in his thoughts, in his fucking nightmare.

She never told me, but Cross isn’t looking for an answer.

He’s looking for a promise.

“Cross . . . Your sister is the most important thing in my life. More important than my country or my crown. I would rain hell down on anyone who tried to hurt her. I will protect her with my life. And I will love her every single day of hers and mine.” Few men in this world will ever have the balls to question me, and even fewer will deserve an answer. But this man . . . this brother, who’s trying to reconcile the way he wants to protect his sister . . . This I can understand. And this I can respect. Because we both want the same thing. “Her happiness will always come first.”

He stares at me for a long time, then finally nods. “Did she tell you I’m announcing my retirement after we get home?”

“No, she didn’t mention it.”

“Do you think you can help me find a house here? I’d like to be able to visit whenever we want. Maybe bring the kids here for the summers.” Fuck, I like him a whole lot more now than I did a few minutes ago.

“I think I can help you with that. Have you told her yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Pretty sure that’s the best gift anyone can give her today.” Pretty sure she’s going to cry . . . again.noveldrama

Cross blows out a breath as he looks over my shoulder. And when I turn around, I see why, and she’s stunning.

For most of my life, I knew this day would come. I always thought it would be many years from now, after my mother had reigned and my theoretical children were grown. I thought I’d have decades of being a husband and a father before I was a king.

I was wrong. It all happened much faster and more unexpectedly than that. So I shouldn’t be surprised that nothing about this day is what I expected either.

I thought I’d be nervous walking down the aisle of the abbey.

I’m not.

Ready is the word I’d use. Ready to accept and embrace my life. The one I’ve been told I would have since before I understood what those words meant. And as the archbishop presents the orb and scepter, and the sword and the crown—all the things he removed from my grandfather’s casket months ago . . . I accept them with the understanding that I’m their guardian, keeping them and this country safe with everything I am, so my child can one day do the same.

But even as I’m anointed with the holy oils and accept this sacred duty, it’s not me my mind and my heart are focusing on. It’s what comes next.

And once my part is done, I watch my beautiful queen, who’s carrying our unborn child, be crowned. My heart races in my chest as it’s done, as the prayers are recited and the hymns sung. Because I am nothing without her.

When she’s presented to me and curtsies like she’s been doing it for a lifetime instead of only a few months, I stand and shock the two thousand people in the abbey. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. She’s supposed to curtsy and be escorted back to her seat by the Duke of Salem. But instead, I take her hand and walk her to her throne.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, and I gently kiss her lips.

“I am strong because you are at my side, my love. You will never walk alone again.” I hold her hand as she turns to face the men and women gathered to watch us today.

Atticus says something to one of the many dukes he stands amongst, and then my throne is quickly moved next to hers, and we take our seats together, as we should. A united front.

That is all anyone will ever see from us again.

A king made stronger by his queen.

“How bloody long do we have to stay at this thing?” Atticus groans as he stands next to me at the coronation ball that evening. “I can think of better ways to celebrate.”

“I won’t tell anyone you left,” I joke. “Who’s going to give you shit anyway? Me?”

“Good point.”

“Before you go . . .” I stop him, needing to say this. I owe him this. “I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me for what? My spectacular dart skills that led to that incredibly smart and beautiful woman being drunk enough to marry your sorry ass?”

“That too, but no.” Shit, this is harder than I expected. “When I told Parliament if I had to choose, I’d choose Bellamy and threw you to the wolves without a warning.”

“Fucking wanker.” He grins.

“You took it, brother. You sat there and took it for me. To protect me. You shouldn’t have had to do that, but I asked you to without ever actually asking. I feel like that’s been a running theme for most of our adult lives.”

“You’ll protect her, and I’ll protect you. We both have our jobs to do, Rhys. Mum didn’t just teach you, you know. I know my role, and it’s to protect you at all costs.” He straightens his spine and grabs a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. “The house of Windsor will always survive, and soon there’ll be a new heir.”

Bellamy catches my eye and smiles from across the dance floor, where Ares and she are dancing. “That we will, brother.” I clap his shoulder. “Excuse me while I steal my wife.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rhys.” Atticus’s voice dims behind me as I tap Ares’s shoulder.

Before I even ask, Ares steps aside, and my queen smiles the most radiant smile as I take her in my arms. “How are you feeling, my love?”

“Honestly?” she asks. “I’m so tired, I may sleep for the next week straight. Can you please tell me why we had to do this while I was ridiculously pregnant?”

I move her around the dance floor slowly, careful to take as much of her weight as she’ll allow. “In all fairness, this was planned before we found out you were pregnant.”

“Being the voice of reason will not be what gets you laid tonight, my king.”

We both laugh, and she rests her head on my shoulder. “Rhys . . .”

“Yes, love.”

“What is it like?” She looks up at me through inky black lashes, and I wonder if this is a trick question.

“What’s what like?”

“Being so confident in who you are and what you want. Leading people. I asked you once, and you told me to ask again in six months. Well now, it’s been six months.”

“It was never about the months, Bellamy. It was about you. Being confident in who I am and what I stand for gave me the strength to walk away from it all, if that’s what you needed. Being that confident has given me you, so I think it’s pretty amazing.”

I press her closer and hold her tighter. “Does that answer your question?”

“It does, but I have a new question.”

The song changes, and the lighting shifts with it, giving me a better look at my wife’s exhaustion. “What’s your next question, little bee?”

“When are we allowed to leave?” She yawns, and if it wouldn’t piss her off more than I’m willing to do, I’d pick her up and carry her to our room. But she’d kill me if I did that, and I’d like to live to see my child be born.

“Anytime you want, love. Who’s going to stop us?” I ask and quickly kiss her lips before guiding her off the floor.

“Don’t we have to tell someone?”

“I’ll text Devon once we’re upstairs.”

Relief shines in her eyes. “You are a god, my love,” she teases as she grips my hand tightly in hers.

I wait until the ballroom doors close behind us before I sweep her up in my arms. “Not a god, love. Just a king.”

“My king . . .” she whispers.

“Always.”