Highland Games

Chapter Five

My ears were deafened at the sound of the people cheering as James and I ride out into the city. Though I did not think it possible, the mile seemed to be more crowded today than it was yesterday. People stood shoulder to shoulder, eagerly attempting to push their way through so they might be at the front. Everyone's eyes were wide as they gazed adoringly at James, and then to my surprise, equally as adoring to me. 

How strange it seemed to me that they would share the same admiration so quickly. 

I turn my head so that I could look at him, and just as I did, the sun peered perfectly from behind the clouds, illuminating his exquisite face. The light reflected against his crown, surrounding him within an ethereal glow. I was not a painter, never had been, but if I could replicate this moment perfectly then it would be my magnum opus. 

He smiles warmly at me as we continue down the Royal Mile, the air still filled with excitement and anticipation. It was comforting for me to know that Scotland shared in joy and hope of my union. It was inspiring to see how openly they greeted and welcomed me to Scotland. I had worried that because I was English that they would be slow to accept me, and never before had I been so happy to be proven wrong. 

I watch as other members of the court proceed before us, alongside my brother, who seemed to be basking in the cheers from the crowd. It mattered not hat they weren't for him, in his mind he was the only one deserving of it. I worried about the future of England in his hands, wondered what would happen once he was given that power. 

What would happen to James and I? To Scotland? Our children? 

But as soon as the fear sunk into my stomach, it was gone, vanished the moment I looked at James. I remembered how valiantly he protected me last night, how he made sure that I was safe and vowed to never let Edward lay a hand on me again. As long as he was by my side, I was safe, whatever family we made were safe. He would never let any harm come to us. 

As we pass through the gates of Holyrood House, my eyes immediately turned to the majestic abbey before us. This was the abbey in which James' father and mother were married, where he was christened. And now it was he and I who would be wed here, where, I prayed, our future children would be christened. And god willing, our son would continue on the legacy. 

Even from the distance I could see the pews filled with foreign monarchs and their consorts, English and Scottish peerage, and ambassadors. How strange it seemed to me that in this exact moment, I cared not that they were here. All that mattered was James and I, our marriage. I would have married him in an abandoned church with only one witness if it made me his wife, his queen. 

No one else mattered to me anymore. 

I blinked and suddenly I was standing in front of the doors to the abbey, my ladies assembled before me, James steadfastly at my side. Marjorie smooths out my dress while Agnes gently brushes the pieces of hair that I fallen out of place during the ride. Madeline smiles softly at me as she hands me my bouquet, adorned with pieces of Scottish Heather and English Roses, this I was told, had been done by Isabella. Another reminder of the importance of this alliance. 

"Are you ready, my queen," James whispers into my ear before pressing a kiss against my temple. 

My breath catches in my throat as I grip his hand, my heart racing in my chest. "I have been ready since the moment I arrived in Scotland, my king," I respond,  my eyes finding his once again. He squeezes my hand as the doors to the abbey open, everyone's heads and eyes quickly snapping over to us. 

Madeline gracefully leads the ladies in their procession, with James and I following proudly behind them. Though I kept my eyes straight ahead, in my periphery I could see my aunt, the Queen of France and my cousin the Dauphin sitting towards the front. Across the pew sat James' uncle, the Duke of Burgundy, and sitting next to him the Prince of Navarre.