Sabrina laughed. “I'll try, Aunty. I'll try.”
“Okay, well your dress looks amazing, and we have but a few minutes before we’re meeting your father and the bridesmaids in the courtyard. I'd like to run to my room and change quickly. I’ll be back in two shakes.” Faye then turned and left Sabrina to herself in the bedroom.
She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment longer. Marla had curled her hair and applied makeup on her. She looked more beautiful than ever before. And she felt that way, too. For the first time, she felt secure. Not just for herself, but for her family, too. Sabrina knew that her old life, and her parent's old life, would be nothing more than a memory. She'd be able to take care of them. Her dreams had manifested into reality.
It's still hard to believe, she thought, as she sat down on the edge of the bed. I never thought my life could get this good.
In just a few hours, Sabrina would officially be married to Marco. The poor girl from Memphis would become a Princess. And then, eventually, Queen. She sat in that room for a moment, just pondering the way things had turned out for her. She couldn't help but to think about how one little decision had changed the outcome of her entire life.
What if I hadn't decided to apply for that job all those months ago? She thought. Where would I be now? I definitely wouldn't be here, getting ready to rehearse a wedding with the most amazing man on the planet.
Sabrina looked up, as Faye poked her head back into the room.
“You ready, Bean?” she asked. “We're going to be late if we don't hurry.”
Sabrina nodded as she stood up from the bed. She walked toward the door, holding the bottom of the wedding dress up to keep it from dragging on the floor.
Out of nowhere, Marla materialized with two other girls, tsking loudly. “Carrying your own dress? For shame. Where are
the bridesmaids?”
Faye laughed. “Where we come from, you get used to taking care of your own baggage. But you’re right. I’m sorry, Sabrina, that’s awfully rude of me. Let me get your train for you.”
“Here, your bouquet.” Marla thrust a beautiful arrangement of flowers into Sabrina’s clammy palms. “Are you all right? Do you need a drink of water? Some valerian leaves?”
Sabrina giggled at the reference to the wild plant, which, she’d learned, many of the locals chewed recreationally for its calming effects. As tempting as it was, she wanted to stay lucid for the most important day of her life.
“Thank you, Marla. I’m good. But I might change my mind later.”
She’d already gone through her entrance in the rehearsal, but she wasn’t any more confident about it. The wedding was taking place in the massive courtyard behind the palace, backed by a breathtaking fountain and surrounded by Lilies of the Nile, lilacs, orange poppies, and sea spray – and plenty of blooms she didn’t recognize. The smell was as beautiful as it was exotic.
From the balcony above the staircase, Sabrina could see the thousands of paper lanterns dotting the gardens. The ceremony itself was attended only by the royal family and esteemed guests, but even so, it seemed like there must be a million people seated there on either side of the red carpet, waiting for her to arrive.
There was only one notable absence. Magdalena, as it turned out, would not be attending.
Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief when Marco first broke the news. As far as the public knew, she was simply too ill to attend. But after her shameful outburst at the ball, most of them knew the truth.
As it turned out, though, the people of Orsino were fascinated by the idea of a “people’s princess” from the American south. Ever since their engagement, the palace had been inundated with gifts. Sabrina’s favorite was a little hand-carved cowboy, complete with a five-gallon hat. They didn’t understand her culture any more than she understood theirs, after just a few weeks – but they wanted her to feel welcomed. They wanted her to feel at home, just as much as Marco did.
Tears brimmed in Sabrina’s eyes as she waited for her cue to descend the stairs.
“Not yet,” Faye whispered. “Don’t cry, Bean. Or we’ll all be a sobbing mess before the priest even opens his mouth.”
And just like that, the music started.
Chapter 25
Marco
Marco shifted his weight impatiently. He felt like he’d been standing here at the altar for a hundred years, watching the altar boys spread incense as they paced up and down the aisles. Having sat through a number of these interminably long traditional weddings in his youth, Marco knew exactly what he was in for. He would’ve been happy eloping with Sabrina to Las Vegas, and being married by one of those men who dress up like Elvis Presley. But this day wasn’t just for them. It was for his father, and for the people of the island to share in his joy.
He had to start thinking like a king now. Thankfully, with Sabrina by this side, that no longer felt like such a burden.
But where was she?
“Are you sure they know when to start the procession?” Marco mumbled to his father.
“Yes,” Carlo whispered. “Marla would never let this wedding go off-schedule. You know that as well as I do.”