Royal Elite Epilogue (Royal Elite #7) by Rina Kent

She laughed and thanked him, and he grumbled as a form of reply before he disappeared inside — probably to write in his black book about how Teal lacks noble manners.

Mum helped with the entire process, not leaving Teal’s side for even a second. Ever since she gained her health back and could move freely, she has made it her mission to be in on every moment of my life.

Dad, too, even though he’s not forthcoming about it. We agreed that Mum would never know about Eduard the fucker, and I guess, ever since that scum’s death, Dad and I have grown closer than before. It’s like we’re back to those times when I was a kid and I ran to him whenever I accomplished something exciting — or when Lars made me drink fucking milk.

Are we a perfect family? Far from it. But both my parents and Lars are the best family I could’ve asked for.

My gaze trails to the three of them sitting on the front row and I grin. Lars. Sitting. I know. I don’t remember the last time I saw him rest his butt down. But I told him he’s not allowed to stand during my wedding or I’ll kick him out.

He bitched for some time in his snobbish tone, but obviously I won, because he complied.

Elsa walks down towards us with Knox by her side. He serves no role, except to piss off Aiden, who’s glaring at him from his seat while Knox smiles from ear to ear.

After he delivers Elsa to her place as the maid of honour, he kisses her cheek and retreats. I’m surprised Aiden doesn’t jump down his throat here and now.

Soon after, Teal appears with her hand tucked into Ethan’s arm.

She’s wearing a long black dress with a huge skirt and a lace bodice. Some people stop and stare at her unconventional choice, but my grin widens even more.

Putain.

That’s exactly how I imagined ma belle when she said she would wear her favourite colour for her favourite day.

She told me that, in Spanish origins, wearing a black wedding dress means devoting the marriage until death.

I like that idea.

In fact, I like that idea so much that I would’ve been disappointed if she’d worn a normal white dress.

Teal isn’t normal and she never will be. This is only further evidence of how deep and far she goes.

Nothing deters her from expressing her thoughts, and while that drives me insane sometimes, I can’t get enough of her or her sarcastic comebacks. Or how she holds on to me as if I’m her world. As if she’s as thrilled she found me as I am about finding her.

My favourite time of the day is when she crawls into my side and hugs me to sleep because it makes her feel safe.

My favourite part is when she says my name with that softness that she shows to no one but me.

My favourite meal is when she tries to cook something and makes me taste it first in case it’s rubbish.

My favourite activity is when we run together and challenge each other on who gets to finish their lap first.

My favourite person is her.

I never thought I would allow someone so close, to the point they’d become my favourite. Or that they’d become the centre of my life.

But here we are and there she is.

Ma belle. My love. My all.

There was a moment in time where I hated myself and took refuge in other people. There was a moment in time where she shunned people and withdrew into herself.

And while sometimes those memories strike again, we don’t run away from them anymore. I take her hand in mine and we talk to Dr Khan, Elsa’s shrink whom she recommended to us.

At first, Teal didn’t really want to talk, but now, she’s even more opened up than me.

We talk about our coping mechanisms. About how she dealt with her trauma and how I dealt with mine.

We don’t judge each other. Fuck anyone who judges how survivors deal with their trauma. Just because some treat it one way doesn’t mean the entire world needs to do the same.

Trauma is a chronic illness that each human being deals with differently. Trauma is a cancer that can eat you from the inside out if you don’t somehow come up with a coping mechanism.

Teal and I might have made mistakes, but that’s how we learnt. That’s how we got to this moment where we become one. Literally and figuratively.

It’s not normal for two young people to get married at the age of twenty, but Teal and I were never the normal type.

We knew that early on and we own up to it. Besides, as she told me, we already know what we want, so what’s the point of delaying it any further?

She has always been mine as much as I’m hers and there’s no force in the world that will change that.

Before Ethan can give her to me, I snatch her close, my impatience getting the better of me. She smiles, her bright dark eyes shining with the motion.

“What do you think?” she whispers.

“I think you’re mine till death, ma belle.”

“And you’re mine, Ronan.”

I kiss her before the wedding even starts. Laughter breaks out in the audience, but I couldn’t give two fucks about them.

All of this is a formality. Teal and I always belonged together.

We just didn’t know it at the time.

Now, we do.

Now, nothing will stop us from owning the world and leaving our gruesome experiences behind.

“I love you, Mrs Astor,” I murmur against her mouth as I pull away.

She smiles in a soft, breathtaking way. “And I love you, Mr Astor.”