🔹Chapter One 🔹Wedding Day🔹

Two months later...

I've been throwing up the whole morning. I've been late to meetings for three consecutive days because of this sickness.

Kimberly and Melinda suggested that I go see a doctor before my father has my head for not representing the White House in a good light with my lateness to everything.

I agreed when I felt a bit better, I showered and dressed up in a loose floral dress. I went to the furthest hospital. So no one could report spotting me.

Once I reached the hospital. I paid in cash and went into to the room to wait for the doctor.

The nurse took my blood and made me pee in a cup while I waited for the doctor, who would come in to talk about my results.

The doctor entered the room.

"Doctor, is there something wrong with me?" I asked hesitantly.

"No, everything is normal. Actually its good news." The doctor said calmly with a smile on his face.

"What's the good news?" I asked as my brows furrowed in confusion.

"You are having a baby, Renee. You are pregnant, actually eight weeks." she said happily.

But I'm not sure if this is a good news.

I'm pregnant at twenty-four.

Pregnant with a King's baby.

I'm pregnant with the heir of a foreign country.

This is not good.

-

When I got home, I locked up myself in my room and cried.

I just don't know what to do anymore. My life is a big mess. I'm sure my father will kill me.

"Hey, I've just remembered we brought that bottle of wine," Kimberly says, standing up and heading to the cooler. "Do you want a glass?" She asked.

"No, thank you. Could you pass me a water bottle though, please?" I replied.

Kimberly frowns.

"What?" I eventually asks, curious.

"I've never heard you refuse a glass of wine before. Are you okay?" She replied.

My heart flutters. "I'm fine." I said.

"In the spirit of honesty, Nay, can I ask you a question?" Kimberly asked

"Of course." I answered.

She knows.

"Are you… pregnant?" She asked.

"Yes." I answered.

"What? Oh my God!" She exclaimed.

"Congratulations!" Kimberly says, grinning from ear to ear. "How far along are you?" She asked.

I glances down. I was almost nine weeks, and already has a gentle curve to my abdomen.

"Almost nine weeks." I answered.

"Wow." She said.

"Yeah." I said.

"Who's the father?" She asked.

"King Richard." I answered.

"Of Belgium." She added.

"Yes." I said.

"Oh my God! Renee, what are you going to do?" She asked.

"I don't want to kill the baby, that's one thing for sure. I am not a murderer." I replied.

"Then you need to tell Richard and you guys have to get married." She said.

"Why, do we have to get married?" I asked.

"Hello, he's a king and you're the first daughter also basically the first lady. This will be a bad press frenzy for everyone if you don't marry him before you start to show." She answered.

"Oh my God! You're right." I said.

-

Two months later...

Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula in Brussels

The car made a turn, and we found ourselves parked in front of the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula in Brussels. The magnificent church was decorated with a mixture of white calla lilies, roses and sweet peas, and the carpet down the aisle all the way from the first steps in the entrance was white as well – all matching the Cathedral’s white walls which, with its golden detailing, was already decoration enough.

I got out of the car and Kimberly walked out of the car to help with my train and, slowly, she got all of it out as my father made his way around. The crowd was still screaming from where they stood, watching, all around the cathedral.

We walked up the steps and I stopped in the first section of the steps to look around. The crowd waved, excitedly, cheering, so I raised a hand and waved to as many of them as I could.

Finally, we reached the entrance of the Cathedral, where the gigantic doors surrounded by thick, ancient columns were opened waiting for me.

The doors were closed and suddenly the world was quiet. I took in a deep breath as I walked to where I was supposed to, so my train could be put into place by Kimberly.

The Archbishop started walking very slowly forward. I felt my father holding my hand tightly as we walked behind him. I could see all the foreign royals who came to the wedding.

Some I met from acting as first lady for my father, which would be taken over by my sister Kimberly.

I saw Richard. He was facing the altar, as tradition demanded. We finally made it to the altar and Richard turned to face me. He smiled and I smiled.

I turned to my father, and bended my knees a little so he could pull my veil over my head, to fall down my back delicately.

"Beautiful." My dad said smiling before giving my hand to Richard.

"Are you ready?" Richard whispered to me.

"I'm ready." I smiled.

-

Ligne Aquamarine Tiara

Aquamarine Engagement Ring

Marchesa gown

-

Ralph and Russo gown

"Are you sure you want to host the reception?" Richard asked.

"Yes, I'm sure and if it gets too overwhelming, I'll let you know." I answered.

Hosting a dinner for almost a thousand guests was no easy task.

Greeting our guests was eventful, they had been served drinks as they waited for us downstairs, talking to the royal family and my family before they opened the ballroom doors.

We stood by then, and greeted them one by one as they walked in and were guided to their seats. We greeted all of the foreign royals, who were kind and chatty, and all of the political guests who had made the cut for the dinner.

We sat in a long table in the far end of the ballroom, me and Richard in the center, with his family to one side and mine to the other, facing our guests, whom we had greeted earlier as soon as we had arrived to the ballroom after the balcony appearance.

We sat down to enjoy a seven course dinner, which had been prepared by Belgian chefs, mixing the culinary of our both countries, the same thing we did with our deserts.

"Time to cut the cake."

"I've been craving this cake all day." I said to Richard.

"Let's get you a piece of cake then." He said.

Ten minutes later I stood before the cake cutting a slice with Richard. We feed each other a piece of cake then I got another piece and I turned to stuff it in my mouth. I moaned.

"You're addicted." He said.

"I love cake." I said.