Princess Ever After

THIRTY





She’d found bliss—and true love—between the shores of a small gem of a nation, restored to royal, sovereign perfection. A past she’d never known came to life, roared into her present, and redefined who she was and all her future days.

As strange as it still felt to be a royal princess, Reggie was confident this was what she’d been born to do—restore Gram’s ancient, beloved Hessenberg to its original, classic beauty.

And it only took her twenty-nine years to find out. Her heart understood more every day that this was where she belonged.

For now, however, she was late. For her first official Princess of Hessenberg engagement. October twenty-second, the official signing of the entail and ending Brighton’s hundred-year rule over Hessenberg.

She only had a few minutes to dress. Reggie hurried to her suite, yanking off her boots, squirming out of her jeans. She was excited to find a crew to extract the Starfire #89 from the stable and have it shipped to Daddy. That chore had consumed her the last few days but the antique gem was on its way.

Wouldn’t Al be surprised when he returned home from Texas?



She might just have to fly home for the big reveal. Even Daddy didn’t know exactly what she was shipping him other than, “It’s huge! Big! Unbelievable!”

Going toward the dressing room, Reggie caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Mop of red hair, blue eyes, and the curves of the Beswick women . . . all very familiar. But the glint in her eye was new, a symbol of her growing confidence that she was exactly where God wanted her to be.

The warm drops of oil continued to hit her head, mostly when she was about some royal duty. Like the day she asked Seamus to form a government. He blustered and pontificated, got red-nosed, and accepted her invitation in the end, pledging to drop his plan to charge Reggie as an enemy of the state.

So, the oil drops? The occasional hand on her head? Odd, but she was convinced it was God’s world breaking into hers. All in all, this was his journey, and she was just holding on for the ride.

In her dressing room, Serena had selected dresses from three designers who were already sketching ideas that would define Reggie’s style—wide skirts and cowboy boots.

Choosing the Melinda House silky rich green dress with the front buttons, Reggie slipped it over her head, the fabric flowing down her arms, swishing about her knees. If she’d known dresses like this existed, she might have gone this way long ago.

Tugging on a pair of cream-colored soft calfskin dress boots—hey, she was just reinforcing her style—she headed out.

“Miss, you look beautiful. Redneck royal, my blooming eye,” Serena said, coming in the room. “Shall I do your hair? Mr. Burkhardt sent word to wear your tiara.”

“Wear the tiara? For signing the entail?” She’d embraced the notion she’d have to change some of her ways. Don a fancy dress more often than she’d like. But the tiara and diamond-drop earrings made her feel like a lipstick-wearing, diamond-encrusted poser.



“But this is a formal ceremony, miss. You’re the royal princess. If ever there was a time to wear your gram’s tiara, ’tis now.” Serena unwrapped the delicate crown from the silk pouch Tanner had commissioned for it.

“I feel so silly. Like I’m putting on airs.”

“Come. Sit.” Serena patted the vanity chair. “Let me do your hair and settle on the tiara. You won’t even know it’s there.”

Reggie hesitated. Couldn’t she just tell Serena no? After all, she was the princess. “Okay, but kind of puff up my hair to hide it.”

Serena proceeded to do the exact opposite, taming Reggie’s hair and pulling it back into a twist before settling the tiara on her head.

“Your Majesty, it’s beautiful. You are beautiful.” She met Reggie’s gaze through the mirror. “Like I said, redneck royal, my blooming eye.”


“Serena, this is not what I asked for.” Reggie winced at her appearance and the lush array of sparkling diamonds on top of her head.

“But it’s perfect for you.”

“Are you sure?”

Jarvis’s gentle voice came over the room intercom. “Mr. Burkhardt is here, miss.”

Reggie stood with a glance at Serena. “I’m trusting you with this updo.”

“You’re going to pop his eyes out, miss.”

“Pop his eyes out? Who, Mr. Burkhardt?” Serena caught Reggie kissing Tanner once. Okay, maybe twice. But it was on the cheek both times.

“Oh, go on.” Serena waved off her comment with a shy giggle. “We all know, miss.”

“Well, pretend you don’t.” Reggie smiled at her lady’s maid.

As she came down the stairs, Tanner glanced up, his heart molding his expression. Love.



He won her all over again.

With a low whistle, he propped his elbow on the banister, watching her descend, soaking her with his adoration and desire.

“You know you’re never getting rid of me,” he said, reaching for her when she arrived at the bottom of the staircase.

“Because I wore this tiara?” She raised her chin and tapped the very tip of the crown with her hand.

“No.” He kissed her forehead. “Because you wore those boots.”

She laughed, electric shivers firing through her. So this is love . . .

“Regina,”—Tanner breathed out, slowly bending to one knee—“I love you and—”

“Mercy above and all the angels.” Serena bent over the landing banister, eyes like saucers, her mouth dangling open.

“Serena,” Tanner said, “give us a moment.”

The lady’s maid shook the palace with her fleeing footsteps.

“Tanner, what are you doing?” Reggie sat on the bottom step, facing him.

“I thought about it all night. Why wait when we know we love each other?”

“But I’m a new princess and you’re a new dad.”

“And we’re going to need each other to learn our jobs. For support.”

She brushed her hand over his cheek, his blue eyes intense with a determined spark.

“It’s going to be complicated.”

“Yes, but it’s going to get fun too.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her laugh.

“So,” she said, looking down and fluffing her skirt, “what exactly are you asking me, Tanner Burkhardt?”

“Regina Alice Beswick Augustine-Saxon, will you—”

“You forgot to say princess.”

“Pardon me, Your Majesty. Princess Regina Alice Beswick Augustine-Saxon, will you—”

“Tanner,”—she pressed her hand over his heart—“all teasing aside, ask me from here.”

He smiled, raised up off his knee, and scooted onto the step next to her. “Reggie, I’ve loved you since you crawled out from under a Corvette with leaves in your hair and oil on your face. I want to share my life with you. I want you to share yours with me. I can’t imagine another day going by without you promising to marry me. Will you do me the honor of being my wife? Please.” He dug into his pocket and produced a diamond solitaire in a simple platinum band.

Tears welled in her eyes. He knew her well. “Oh, Tanner, it’s perfect.” She cupped her hand over his and met his gaze. “I think I fell for you when you told me who I really was . . . the long-lost princess of Hessenberg. I’ve loved you more every day, and I can’t imagine my life without you. So yes, Tanner Burkhardt, I will marry you.”

He slipped the cool, smooth ring onto her finger and gathered her in his arms, sealing their pledge with a kiss. And then she knew. Regina Beswick was finally all the way home.