Free Coup D'etat (The Alpha Prince) Book 3 by C.T. Sloan Page A

The rock is about five feet tall and ten feet wide. It appears out of place in an otherwise pristine beach. “Let’s climb up on the rock,” the Prince says. We step up a rather easy incline leading to the summit of the five foot tall rock. As I look down at the rock, I notice that it is well worn in certain places. It appears that many people have climbed on this rock before.
     
    “This rock is where Mondorra began,” Prince Julian tells me. “It is said that this is where my ancestors set camp when they broke away from France. So, in effect, we are standing on the foundations of the first palace of Mondorra.”
    I
    look out into the sea and remark. “It has one heck of a view.”
     
    “It certainly does.”
     
    The Prince turns me around. I look at him. He looks at me and takes both of my hands and he looks into my eyes, “It is said that no Prince of Mondorra will ever be brought to his knees, except for once in his life. And when it is done. It will be done on this rock.”
     
    I watch the Prince fall to one knee. Oh my God! I begin to hyperventilate. He takes my hand and looks up at me. “I would risk anything to keep you by my side. I would fight them with my sword, with my fist, and with my very soul. You have made the last month the most incredible, exciting and exhilarating month of my life. For ten years, I have been a Prince without a Princess. Upon the rock that my ancestors hold most sacred, I ask that you join me in eternity.”
     
    Tears stream down my eyes as the Prince reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. He opens the box and offers me a ring that I can barely see through my tears. I nod and say, through quivering lips, “Yes.” Prince Julian puts the ring on my finger and begins to stand up.
     
    As the Prince rises to his feet, my legs become wobbly. He catches me. We both fall on to the rock in a full embrace. The Prince wipes the tears from my eyes. As I regain my focus, a large wave crashes onto the rock, splashing water on both of us. My crying turns to laughter as we hold each other and kiss. The Prince holds my hands and says, “Thank you.”
     
    “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”
     
    “From now on, call me Julian.”
    “Thank you,” I say with a pause, “Julian.”
     
    I look at the ring on my finger. My brain doesn’t even know how to process this. The Prince and I sit up at the edge of the rock and hold each other’s hands as we look into the sea. My initial joy turns to trepidation as the reality of marrying the Prince of Mondorra begins to sink into my brain.
     
    Julian puts his arm around me. “I know what you are thinking. And yes, you are ready to be a Princess. The people have always loved you. It’s just that they are very protective of their Prince. They will soon embrace you as one of their own,” Julian says as he does his best to comfort my trepidation. I put my head on my new fiance’s shoulder. We don’t say much for the next hour. We just watch the sea, holding each other’s hands.
     
    We walk back to the Palace. I look at Julian. I look at the ring. My head is still spinning. “News will spread fast,” Julian says. “Be prepared for the media craziness.”
     
    “I can’t imagine how much crazier this day could get.”
     
    “We are going to have a royal wedding in Mondorra. It will be the equivalent of New Year’s Day, the Superbowl and the World Cup Final all wrapped up into one,” my fiance explains to me.
     
    As we approach the Palace, Julian tells his estate manager, “Call a meeting of the Palace Staff in the Grand Ballroom.”
     
    “Yes, Your Highness,” the Manager says as he hurries off.
     
    I imagine Julian does not call a meeting like that so often. I get nervous. Then I quickly remind myself that becoming the wife of a Prince will require standing in an intense spotlight. I just keep repeating the following word to myself, “Poise, poise, poise.”
     
    We walk into the palace. Julian slows down his