My Royal Engagement [PG+13] - [Royally Screwed #1]

Epilogue

OMFG! ITS FINALLY FINITE!

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BTW, THE EVENTS IS ALL IN MY HEAD. I AM NOT TRYING TO SAY ANYTHING AT ALL AND HOPE NOT TO OFFEND ANYONE.
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Epilogue

Some moments in life are greater than most. Perhaps that's why, when we fall in love, or love in general, that love remains in our hearts for a long, long time. And sometimes, that love is so great that we cease to lose it all. That's why, when the love disappears and is replaced by an anguish so profound that, for mere moments we're denied our body. We're completely numb.

Rain pelted at the large, French door windows. The sky, as always was a dreary grey-yet somehow, it seemed darker than usual. There was no sun, no light from the sky that I see the streetlamps awaken at barely noon.

Four weeks ago, Her Majesty, The Queen, Elizabeth Alexandra II of The House of Windsor, constitutional monarch and the Defender of Faith faded away before her family. On the first day, doctors were called to confirm what we as her family knew was inevitable. Two days passed, in respect to our private, family mourning till it was announced and then confirmed to the world that the Queen was now gone from the world--this was followed by a string of condolences from dignitaries all around the globe.

The first week consisted of news around the globe, condolences. It was frightening and the family, and myself, did all we could to stay cooped up. Of course it was my Father who came out and announced the death of his own mother.

The second week was the Official, Lying-In-State where the public could mourn the death of their Queen.

My Grandmother's body was moved, overnight to Westminster Hall. She was guarded around the clock by the Sovereign Guards, The House Cavalry and Foot Guards. Her coffin was placed in a catafalque. People from all around the world came to London to pay their respects.

The third week was the Funeral Procession and the Funeral itself. The inevitable.

The Funeral Procession brought my Grandmother's body throughout the streets of London. A single riot occurred with people who would not believe in the death of the Queen. That was probably the most painful.

Finally, there was the ceremony. It was a private gathering filled with beautiful words from our family. James sat alone, shoulders slumped with a deadened look on his face. Our father was even worst. He did not even attend the funeral. I spoke for her, and Geneva, announcing ourselves as our first names'. She was brought to Frogmoure House, The Royal Mausoleum to rest with her late mother.

The fourth week was brought with more condolences. All the flags were left at a half mast, in mourning for their Great Queen. The Royal Family was nowhere to be seen in this event.

It was probably why, facing the rest of the world now, would be proven difficult.

We'd been mourning for a month and already, the Ministers thought the healing process should begin with the coronation of the new Queen. That meant me.

Nineteen year old me.

It had barely been a year since my marriage to Romeo. He proved amazing, difficult things. I loved him and he loved me and we made it work. We spent our time in marriage dating, getting to know each other. At some point we realized we were 'it' for each other. On my nineteenth birthday 'it' finally happened.

And seven weeks after that, my Grandmother announced that she was weak, frail and dying.

My nineteenth birthday was spent with family and friends. My grandmother gave me the most beautiful gift. Her words, her wisdom. Her belief in me. It was the one thing I had always longed for. She was the mother I never had who scolded me when I created trouble and loved me when my father did not. It was why, when she was passing, I accepted it.

Just like I was going to accept the throne. Mine and Romeo's coronation was today.

Since he was the Prince of France he needed to apply for regent. It eventually became Louis, who ended up taking his position. For now, Louis was the King by Regency. The title was his to hold until he deemed it fit to step down...if ever. Geneva only chose to be a Princess for she saw no meaning in being Queen. She couldn't see the responsibility as hers to handle.

As for Romeo and I, he was the strength through the many condolences we'd received. He was the strength I had when the Prime Minister told me of my responsibilities. He was what I'd always expected my future to be. Strong, perfect and there when I needed him.

A knock broke me from my reverie and I looked behind me to see my husband, dressed in royal blue with a gold sash and gold buttons on his front. Blue, black and gold. My stars, my jewels and perfection. His midnight blue gaze held me and I couldn't help but grin as he eyed me with sadness and love. He'd done everything he could to take the pain away.

I knew it would never disappear, the pain.  And if I thought it did, I know it would simply linger in the darker part of me. But right now, I would accept the throne. I would become their Queen and I would help them heal. I would be what they needed.

I would be what he needed.

"You alright?" Romeo asked, eyes sparkling with love.

I smiled at him, not being able to speak, but then, "I'm nervous. I'm not her."

"You aren't. You're you, exactly how she wanted you. Exactly how I want you. I love you, Juliet."

"And I love you." I smiled, taking the hand he offered me. His warmth engulfs me, burns my skin and owns me. Taking me captive, loving me.

"You know, you're kind of stuck with me now? How would the girls back at Kenilworth like to know them, at some point, hooked up with a Prince?"

I grinned mischievously at him, "They already know. Karen's been going gaga about all the attention they're giving her. She hates it and she hates how little sleep the baby's been giving her."

He smirked. "Speaking of babies..."

"Uh-uh," I smirked right back, "you aren't the one popping them out."

"But I'll be doing all the helping." He says, victorious. "Remember baby, it takes two to tango," he winked.

"Not if have anything to say about it."

His eyes sparkled with mirth, "Like I said on our Wedding Day, baby. Just say yes."

Oh how William Shakespeare would be turning in his grave!