Another One (Book 3 of selection fanfics)

Epilogue 1

I was never the little girl who fantasized about her dream wedding. Never thought about the perfect dress, the perfect shoes, the perfect flowers. I did dream about marrying the perfect man because at the time that seemed to be the only thing I would never get. Dresses and shoes, I could find anywhere. But a boy who loved me more than anything? That seemed impossible.

And yet, somehow, that dream came true.

Derek was far from perfect. He was flawed. He'd made mistakes, bad decisions. We both had. But after learning from those mistakes, growing as people, and enduring a life-changing event, I found I only loved him more.

After the proposal, we'd taken some time for ourselves. To heal and to enjoy time with our families. Only after that did we announce our engagement on the Report. It had felt so strange and terrifying, to be there with only Derek. But once I saw him smile, when he called me his fiancée for the first time, all my fears washed away.

There'd been protests, of course. Many still believed I was a rebel who'd clawed my way into the prince's heart. Even more surprising were the people who supported me. Who supported Derek and our engagement. Soon, for every magazine article tarnishing my reputation, there were three others applauding me and counting down the days until the wedding.

The wedding I was getting ready for right now, on a gorgeous mid-September day.

We'd wanted the quickest engagement possible. But weddings take time, Royal weddings even more so. We'd laid low for most of April, Derek and I still recovering from our injuries. The rest of the summer had passed in a blur, with wedding plans and my daily lessons with Queen America. Still, I'd found the time to visit my family. Derek and Genevieve turned twenty last month in one of the biggest parties I'd ever seen. And now, as Annika closed the last button on my dress, I was about to begin the next chapter of my life.

"Wow," I heard Princess Marlee whisper behind me as everyone else tried to hide their squeals.

Since they'd finished my hair and makeup, I hadn't been allowed to look in a mirror. I could hear my mother sniffle as she fluffed my veil, waiting for Annika to give the all clear so I could open my eyes. I'd found yet another way to break protocol by asking my sister to design my dress. Typically, famous designers worked on a royal dress—Queen's America's dress supposedly took months to design and create. Luckily for me, Annika had spent years secretly designing dresses. Not long after the engagement, I finally convinced her to move to Angeles and enroll in the provinces elite fashion school where she could put her talent to use.

Her biggest project had been my own dress, which I itched to finally catch a glimpse of.

"Alright," I could sense the smile on my sisters face. "She's ready."

"Finally," I huffed an exaggerated sigh of relief and opened my eyes. Immediately my throat tightened with emotion and I could barely get any words out as it hit me.

I looked like a bride. Gorgeous white lace flowers trailed across my chest, cascading into a tight bodice that bloomed into a gorgeous a-line skirt that trailed across the floor. The dress buttoned to the small of my back, leaving most of it bare except for the flowers that skimmed the back of my shoulders. My hair had been styled into an effortlessly messy bun with little white flowers nestled into the twists. A sheer white veil clipped just under the bun, falling in a long train against the floor.

"No crying! You can't mess up your makeup!" Genevieve scolded from behind me but I could see a hint of tears forming in her own eyes.

The same could be said of all the other women in the room. Beth and Cora looked on happily, having worked on my makeup with Elisa, who had become another sister to me. Everly sniffled and linked arms with Liana, who dabbed at her eyes, the engagement ring on her finger sparkling in the light. Queen America had even begun to cry, Marlee in awe. My mom was a blubbering mess beside me and I attempted to console her as she rambled about the fact that I was the first of her babies to get married. Annika looked at me, a mixture of pride and grief in her eyes.