Chapter 12

Jordan watched as her prince walked into the room with her stepmother. Tricia’s smile was a mile wide and caused Jordan’s heart to skip a beat. She knew that look. It was the look Tricia got when she knew a secret. She wore it most Christmas mornings as she handed out gifts to Jordan. But the thing that caused Jordan’s heart to beat wildly was that Prince Owen never even noticed that most of the other ladies-in-waiting had arrived and were in the parlor, waiting to see what was happening.

No, her prince walked straight to her like she was the only person in the room. He looked into her eyes, and she could see the love and determination in his gaze. Then to the gasps for every female in the room, the Crown Prince of Phildonia knelt before her on one knee.

“Lady Jordan Rosaland Clairemont-Sparks of Cordova, from the moment I entered that penthouse suite in Texas, I knew you were something special. Then when you showed me you understood me like no one else by telling me what drew me to the Alamo. You understood I was drawn to others like me, people who would sacrifice their lives on the altar of other people’s needs. I knew you were mine then and despaired of letting you go. When you strode into my ballroom dressed as the phoenix rising from the ashes and spread your wings, I knew I couldn’t live without you. I’m done playing Princess games, My Lady, and I would be the most honored and blessed man if you would become my bride. Lady Jordan, will you share my life with me? My crown with me? Will you bless me and become my Crown Princess, my wife and eventually my Queen?”

Not a female eye in the room was dry. Not because the Prince hadn’t chosen them, but because they all knew he’d chosen the right lady, the only lady. Jordan opened her mouth just as Consuela shouted, “Say YES, woman!”

She glanced at the red-haired warrior who had quickly become her friend instead of an enemy and winked. Then she turned her gaze back to her prince. “Yes, My Prince, I will marry you.”

Owen pulled the ring out of the box and, again, Consuela gasped. “Prince Owen is that...”

The Prince nodded. “Yes, this is the ring that my father had commissioned to ask my mother to marry him. The stone has been in the Royal Vault for centuries. When the two of them found it together as children playing where they shouldn’t, my father told mother then that he would give it to her when he married her someday. Years later, he went back into the vault and got the stone and took it to the jeweler he had commissioned to craft her ring. On one side is the royal seal of Phildonia, on the other the crest of my mother’s house Valaria. When my mother died, it went to my brother. When he gave me the throne, he handed me the ring and told me to give it to the woman who would walk beside me as King and Queen so that our Mother’s spirit could guide us together always.”

“I will wear it with pride then, knowing it belonged to such a strong and wise Queen.”

Owen slipped it on Jordan’s finger and it fit like it had been crafted just for her. From the doorway came the sound of clapping and Jordan looked up, startled to see King William and Queen Dianna clapping. “Well said and well done. You did great, son, but I’m afraid that your bride needs to hurry to her rooms and get changed. The press is already arriving.”

As Jordan stood to hurry, she heard Lillian say, “That’s it then, the season’s over.”

Jordan stopped and turned. “No, the season isn’t over. It’s just changed; now it is a celebration of my engagement. None of you can leave. I need you each in my wedding and to help me plan it. Then I want you to stay on after and become my ladies-in-waiting and my staff. We ladies are the future noble women of Phildonia. Together, we will show this kingdom that strong independent women can help rule a nation. I have a plan. Please stay with me and hear it out over the rest of the season. Let your mothers and fathers know I will promise to help each of you find the perfect husband, but I have need of you.” She looked at the King and blushed. “With your permission, of course, Your Majesty.”

“No permission needed, my dear. Ladies of Phildonia, I hereby issue a royal decree. Until the Crown Princess releases you from service to the crown, you are hereby conscripted into royal service. With pay, of course.”

Consuela shook her head. “That’s fine for Lillian, with her ability to be diplomatic, or Anna with her knowledge of Phildonia culture and history, but I’m a warrior; you don’t need me.”

Jordan grabbed the fierce redhead and hugged her tight. “Oh yes, I do. I have the biggest challenge of them all for you. You are to be the head of my security team. I’ve been informed I’ll have to have one. I don’t want you risking your life, Consuela. The task I want you to help me with is to find the best female Royal Guards and train them. Under your teaching, they will be the most elite trained security team this country has ever seen.”

“What?? Why??”

“Because I want strong women as my security. No men. With big goons I will be less approachable, but with strong, well-trained women, I will seem approachable and yet be perfectly safe. Who better to train them than Phildonia’s most well known female warrior?”

The Queen nodded. “I actually like that. Let’s pull every female Royal guard and Royal Guard Trainee and have them learn from Elksbane. Then we can use female guards for Jaqueline as well.” She smiled at her husband. “Safer for our daughter’s virtue, too.”

The King thought about it for a moment. “Not a bad idea. Let’s table it for now and come back to it next week after the celebration. For now, we need our soon-to-be Princess to look regal in about ten minutes, ladies.”

Jennifer smiled, “No problem.” She zipped open a garment bag and pulled out a teal green dress. “Bring Jordan to the study and keep the guys out. We’ll have her fabulous in five minutes.”

As soon as the women entered the room, they shut the door. Jennifer looked at her and plugged in a steamer to heat. “Good thing this is my fast-acting steamer. Strip her, girls. No bra, we don’t need those lines showing on camera.”

“I think other things will be showing,” Anna pointed out. The Broadway fashionista laughed. “In my bag, on the right side are two thick cotton sticky circles, see them?”

Anna pulled them out and held them up. “These things?”

“Yep, they’re Broadway nipple pasties, peel the back and stick ‘em over her nips. No one will see a thing.”

They stuck them on Jordan and then Jennifer ran the steamer over the front of the teal gown, then the back. “Panties too. She’s wearing the unsexy panties, no granny lines on tv. Not when she’s wearing one of my creations.”

Jennifer lifted the gown and Lillian and Anna bent Jordan over and helped slip the gown over her head and then she was zipped, her hair quickly brushed and gathered over her right shoulder. “She needs a necklace to finish it. Someone go ask her stepmother if she has her pearls on.”

Just then, Princess Jaqueline entered and handed her a white gold and diamond choker, which the girls clasped to her neck and then they all stepped back. “No one can see her feet, so we are ready. Four minutes to spare.”

They presented her to the King, and he nodded. “Perfect. Let’s go set the nation on its ear.” The Queen looked over at her mother-in-law, “Tiara, or no Tiara?”

“No Tiara tonight, but one for the official engagement photos and at the ball on Saturday.”

With those words, the Royal family and Jordan reached the ballroom and entered onto the raised Dias. Jordan listened as the press secretary said. “All rise for King William and Queen Dianna.”

The press stood as the King crossed the stage with the Queen standing on his right, her hand on his arm. Prince Owen took the same stance behind the podium with Jordan on his right, her hand on his arm, the enormous diamond covered by his arm. Then came Princess Jaqueline with the Dowager Queen Mother on her arm. The Press secretary stepped to the podium and microphones. “The Crown Prince will make a statement for the Royal family. There will be no question or answer period tonight. His Highness, Crown Prince Owen Chadwick Theodore of Phildonia.”

Owen stepped to the mic, keeping Jordan’s hand in his, pulling her forward with him. “Thank you. Good evening esteemed members of the press, nobles and people of Phildonia. As everyone knows, the social season is upon us. And this is the season that we decided I would choose, from the eligible Ladies of the noble houses, a lady to become my wife and your Crown Princess. I know there has been great speculation over which lady would catch my attention and win my hand at the end of this social season in eight weeks. My family and I didn’t want to keep you waiting for the news. Tonight, in front of the royal family and several of our friends, I asked Lady Jordan Rosaland Clairemont-Sparks of Cordova to marry me. I am pleased to announce that she agreed.”

There was general uproar as this was not at all what the press was expecting this early in the season. Owen waved them down, and they quickly settled. “We will continue the social season as part of our engagement tour and try to add as many other visits to the outer duchies as we can. We will end the social season two weeks later than normal, with our wedding. On the last Saturday in August at Phildonia Cathedral, we will exchange our vows where all Royal Weddings have taken place in the last two hundred years. We ask that you leave us to celebrate our engagement this week with our friends. The Royal Press office will release an official statement and pictures tomorrow. Our engagement ball will be combined with the charity polo winner’s ball this weekend here at Valaria. I know you are all excited and wish for interviews. Lady Jordan and I will make sure that each network gets to interview us after this week. For now, we will allow you to see Jordan’s engagement ring and take pictures, and we will pose for one engagement kiss picture. Thank you.”