Chapter Eighty-Six

Chapter Eighty-Six
The dining hall of the castle glows with golden light, chandeliers sparkling above as if a thousand stars had been coaxed indoors. A fire crackles softly in the grand fireplace, and the long mahogany table stretches before us, draped in linen as white as snow. Crystal glasses glint, silver cutlery gleams, and platters of food, both Spanish and familiar, line the center—paella beside roasted chicken, bread rolls beside olives.
My family looks equal parts awed and uneasy, their gazes darting between the finery and Rex, who moves with effortless composure as he guides us to our seats. He is king here, yes—but tonight, he acts not as monarch, but as host, as my partner, as a man eager to win over the people who raised me.
He pulls out my mother's chair first, a gesture so deliberate it earns her soft smile. Then my father's, and finally, he takes his own beside me.
The first moments are tentative. Forks scrape plates; glasses clink softly. Then Dad clears his throat, sitting straighter, the way he always does when he wants answers. "Rex," he begins slowly, his voice edged with steel, "you are a king. You could choose any woman in the world. Why my daughter?"
Rex doesn't flinch. He sets down his glass and meets my father's eyes, unwavering. "Because Violet is not just another woman. She is the only one who made me forget my titles, my crown, my duties. With her, I am no longer a king first—I am a man. A man who laughs more freely, breathes more deeply, and finally understands what it means to be truly alive. If I must carry the weight of the crown, then she is the one who gives me the strength to bear it."
The words hang in the air, warm and heavy. My father studies him for a long, silent moment before nodding, slow but approving.
Across the table, Ben leans back in his chair with a smirk. "That was a good speech, King Rex. But words are easy. Actions matter more." He folds his arms. "So let me ask you—what happens when Violet and you disagree? Because trust me, she doesn't back down."
"Ben!" I protest, heat rushing to my cheeks.
But Rex chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Then I thank the heavens that she does not back down. I would rather a queen who challenges me than one who bows to me. If we disagree, then we argue, we fight, and in the end, we compromise. That is how true partnership works. I have no desire for obedience. I desire her honesty—even when it cuts me."
Ben's smirk falters into something softer. "Huh. Not bad. Guess you passed my test." He raises his glass in mock salute.
Gracie, however, is less impressed. She leans forward, chin propped on her hand, eyes narrowing. "So tell me, King Rex," she says slowly, "are you always this perfect? Or is this just the 'win over the family' act?"
"Gracie!" my mother hisses, horrified.
But Rex doesn't miss a beat. He grins, shaking his head. "Far from perfect. In fact, Violet will tell you—I am stubborn, impatient, and sometimes far too serious. I forget to eat when I'm working. I can be insufferable at times."
Gracie raises her brows, clearly enjoying herself. "So you admit you're not flawless?"
"Gladly," Rex replies. Then, leaning slightly toward her, he adds with playful gravity, "But if you're hoping for me to say that I'm not good enough for your sister, you'll be waiting forever. Because I fully intend to spend my life proving that I am."
Gracie blinks, stunned, before a reluctant smile tugs at her lips. "All right... you're quick. I'll give you that."
The table relaxes with laughter, and I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding.
Then Mom speaks, her voice soft, almost wistful. "Violet was always different," she says, looking down at her plate before raising her gaze to Rex. "Even as a little girl, she dreamed too big for the world we knew. She used to run to the window, stare out, and tell me she was waiting for something... or someone. I didn't understand it then. But now—" her eyes glisten with unshed tears, "—now I do. She was waiting for you."
Emotion surges in my throat so thick I can barely swallow. Rex takes my hand beneath the table, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
Finally, Dad raises his glass. "Well then. If this is truly what you both want, you have our blessing."
Rex lifts his glass in return, his voice steady. "Then let us celebrate tonight not as king and subjects, but as family."
Glasses clink, candles flicker, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel whole. My world, my love, and my family—all in one room.
And as Rex smiles at me across the rim of his glass, I know with certainty: this is the beginning of everything.

Rex insisted on taking my father and Ben out for a walk around the grounds, a suggestion I had quietly planted in his mind earlier. I wanted him to have the chance to bond with them, man to man, without my presence softening the edges of the conversation. It mattered to me that my father and Rex—two of the most important men in my life—truly understood one another.
Meanwhile, I lead my mother and Gracie through the mansion gardens, pointing out the centuries-old olive trees and the carefully cultivated rows of roses and jasmine that perfumed the air. The sun is high, and the stone paths shimmer faintly with heat, but the greenery gives us shade.
My mother's gaze lingers on the palace walls before returning to me, her brow furrowing. "I wish we were more involved in all of this," she admits softly. "It feels as though we are handing you over to King Rex simply because he holds a crown, not because we know—without question—that he is worthy of you and of your love."
Before I can respond, Gracie clasps her hands together with an almost dreamy sigh. "Mom," she says, "King Rex is incredible. And I won't even try to hide it—I'm jealous. Violet is living the dream I always imagined for myself." Her eyes sparkles, though her words are tinged with longing.
I hesitate, unsure how to respond to Gracie's confession, so instead I turn to my mother. "Mom, I understand your fears," I say carefully. "I know the last time we spoke about marriage, I told him I wasn't ready."
"What happened?" Gracie presses, her voice curious and earnest. "What changed your mind?"
I draw in a breath, steadying myself. "I made him a promise," I confess. "I promised Rex that I would stay. And once I realized I was never going to leave him, never going to live without him—marriage no longer felt like a question. It felt like the natural next step. Besides," I lower my voice, almost conspiratorially, "his family still doesn't even know we're engaged."
Gracie gasps, eyes widening. "What? Why not?"
"It's complicated," I murmur, unwilling to dive into the tangle of royal politics that still shadowed us.
At that moment, my mother presses her fingers to her temple, wincing. "I have a headache," she admits in a strained tone.
Concern shoots through me instantly. "Are you all right? Let's go back inside. I'll find you some medicine, and you can lie down for a while."
She nods slowly, though her eyes still carried the weight of unspoken worry. "We will talk more later, Violet," she promises. Her hand brushes mine briefly, a mother's silent plea wrapped in tenderness. "Just... promise me you'll be careful. I don't want them to hurt you, in any way."
"They won't, Mom," I say firmly, shaking my head with quiet conviction. "I won't let them."

While my mother rests in the guest chambers, Gracie and I remain in the grand library. The shelves stretch from floor to ceiling, filled with ancient tomes and leather-bound volumes that seem to whisper stories of centuries past. I sit with a book open in my lap, though I hardly glance at the words. My thoughts are too restless, circling around the life I have suddenly stepped into.
"You know," I confess quietly, my voice carrying a trace of unease, "I don't think I know much about what it means to be part of a royal family. I don't even feel like one of them."
Gracie's lips curve into a reassuring smile as she leans toward me. "That's all right," she says warmly. "You'll learn. It doesn't happen overnight."
I exhale, frustrated. "But how am I supposed to learn fast? Rex isn't going to wait patiently while I stumble through my mistakes. You have to help me, Gracie."
I see the spark immediately flicker in her eyes. The heaviness in her mood lifts at my plea. She claps her hands together, squeals softly in delight, and then straightens her posture with sudden importance, as though she is about to deliver a lecture.
"All right then—first things first: public image." Her tone grows firm, almost instructive. "I'm not saying you must be perfect, but you do have to carry yourself with dignity and composure whenever you're in public. If you're upset with Rex, you hide it. If he embarrasses you, you smile as though he has done nothing wrong. Even if—heaven forbid—he were to slap you, you would still have to look at him with love, as though nothing were amiss."
My lips part in shock. "What? Are you serious?"
Gracie gives a small, matter-of-fact nod. "Entirely. You cannot, under any circumstance, publicly criticize another member of the royal family. That is one of the most fundamental rules. Royals must always inform security before leaving the grounds. Formal dress codes are not suggestions; they apply to every kind of event, great or small. And never—absolutely never—should you be seen in casual or common clothes when you are out in public."
I frown, astonished by her certainty. "And how do you know all of this?"
She shrugs, a little too casually. "It's basic knowledge. Royals are expected to devote themselves to charitable causes, diplomatic affairs, or political duties assigned to them. Participation in official ceremonies, national holidays, and state celebrations is not optional—it's mandatory."
I gasp softly, pressing a hand to my chest. "I have to ask Rex about this. You sound like you know far too much."
Gracie's expression wavers then, her confidence faltering. Her voice trembles when she speaks again. "I just have one question."
My brows knit with concern. "What is it?"
She hesitates, her eyes glistening as though the words weigh heavily on her. Then she whispers, almost reverently, "What does it feel like... living the dream I always wished was mine?"