The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren [Daughters of the Empire 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (59 page)

She nodded.

“Despite all our fears, it appears the Spanish people are wildly in love with you,” he remarked offhandedly, but she could see the pride in his expression. “
As I am
.”

“And if they were not?” she asked. She had promised herself not to constantly worry about her acceptance. It was no way to live. But she was nonetheless pleased to tease her husband.

Her
husband
. She loved the sound of the word in her mind. She looked at the ring on his finger and thought it was the most sensual sight she had ever beheld.

“We are joined now,
mi cielito
.” He pulled her close to him in one brusque movement. “We are one. The minute I said ‘I do’ I became a free man. I never again have to worry about how the Spanish people may view you, because there is no possibility of you separate from me.”

Oh, how she had waited for this day, this
night
. His mouth captured hers, and she felt herself growing warm. It would not be long now before she would truly be his.

As he released her reluctantly from his kiss, she could see that they were almost to the Palacio Real. Still pulled to his side of the carriage by his firm embrace, she looked through his window to see a huge floral bouquet being thrown from a nearby balcony, falling to her side of the carriage where she had been sitting.

Boom!
An instant later Nicolette heard a deafening noise and felt the carriage shake. All the windows shattered. She instinctively closed her eyes as she lurched forward. Unable to see Alejandro in the thick black smoke enveloping the carriage, terror gripped her heart as she considered the horrible possibility that her husband of thirty minutes had been killed.

“Alejandro! Alejandro!” she screamed, but she saw and heard nothing but the deafening shouts outside the carriage, which was now clearly missing a wheel in the front. Suddenly she felt beloved hands holding her face gently. His voice was anxious, almost delirious. “Are you wounded, Nicolette?”

She closed her eyes momentarily as they welled up with tears, now streaming down her cheeks.
He lived
.

“Nicolette! Answer me! Are you hurt? Are you in pain?”

“No, no, Alejandro, I am not hurt.” The panic in his voice astounded her. She must regain her composure for Alejandro’s sake. “Are you?”

“No, the bomb fell on your side of the carriage. If you had not been leaning toward me…” He was breathing heavily. Quickly he grew stern. “But now is not the time. I must get you to safety.”

“No! No!” He leapt outside of the carriage while Nicolette found herself pleading, “Stay in here, Alejandro!” But her voice came out in a whisper, though in her mind she was screaming. She could hear him ordering up a new carriage. She recalled the second carriage, which always accompanied the royal carriage.

He took her hand and led her to step outside the carriage, wholly unprepared for the sight that met her eyes. All around them were bodies, body parts, and blood. In front of Nicolette were disemboweled men and horses. One of the white horses lay on the ground with its legs severed and its stomach ripped open, his great purple plumes lying in a mass of red blood.

Oh, no! This could not be happening!
It was more horrible than anything she could imagine! And she was in the middle of it.
She and Alejandro were the intended targets
!

Had it been an accident that the bouquet had been aimed for her side of the carriage? She looked at Alejandro. Even worse was if it had been intended
for him
.

She looked back at the carriage and saw that it was completely destroyed except for the metal frame of the seat they had been sitting on.

The smell of the dead and dying filled the air, and she struggled to keep her stomach in check. Her eyes darted from one travesty to another, the crying and the screams deafening.

She slowed her pace, her heart breaking for those who were suffering. Alejandro held firmly onto her hand and her waist as they stepped over bodies and the head of a bugler, the bugle still in his lips. Not far away lay a civil guard, his legs severed and bleeding freely.

“Attend to yourself. You are wounded.” A bleeding foot soldier was holding feebly onto her other arm, barely able to stand. Once aware of his presence, she turned abruptly to him, commanding in a whisper, “The king will attend me.”

Ever mindful of his duty, he looked to the king, who nodded in agreement with his queen, bowing before departing with a noticeable limp.

Almost simultaneously, King Alejandro’s doctor rushed to her side, and Nicolette finally found her operatic voice, fury rising in her that the suffering were being ignored in favor of hovering about the uninjured royal couple. Sternly she commanded in perfect Spanish with a firm wave of the hand, “We are well. Attend to the injured.
Especially the children
.” The words caught in her throat even as she formed them.

As she spoke she spotted an injured child and began walking toward him in her twenty-pound wedding dress. Alejandro pulled her firmly to his side, giving her no option of misdirection, as he hurried her to the second carriage as swiftly as he could.

“Hurry, my love,” he pleaded, clearly not wishing to speak the words. “We do not know if another incident is planned or not.”

She covered her mouth in terror. The thought was inconceivable. She looked back at the child, hesitating.

“If it is, it will be safer for the child if we leave,” he added, his voice shaking, even as he motioned to the royal doctor to help the child.

“Oh, of course,” murmured Nicolette as she glanced around at the incredible carnage. It had never occurred to her, not for a second, that someone would wish to inflict more destruction, having seen this. She was numb to her own well-being, but she wished to protect the living. Most notably among them,
her husband
.

“The king and queen have been bombed!” A boy was running through the crowds and yelling.

“Alejandro!” Glancing at Alejandro’s chest, she saw blood seeping through his shirt. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming. “You’ve been hurt!”

“No, my love, it’s just a scratch,” he said, pointing to
the
Order of the Immaculate Conception of Vila Viçosa
, now severed in half. She felt herself swoon.

A fragment of the shell had struck Alejandro’s chest in the precise location of the medal of Our Lady of Conception, slicing it in half.

* * * *

Alejandro breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he situated his queen in the new carriage. He could have picked her up, but he knew instinctively that it would help her to overcome the shock if she actually physically moved through the flight from danger. Firmly holding her arm, he prepared himself to catch her if she fainted even as he was stunned that she did not.

He swallowed hard. His heart was breaking thinking that one of these mangled bodies might have been his bride at the same time he mourned inwardly for those who had died.

He was shaking with relief. For the first time in his life he felt thoroughly and completely selfish. She was life to him, she was everything. Without her,
he
might as well be one of these bodies.

As he watched her, he was amazed at her courage and initiative. Though their marriage was not yet consummated, he knew her intimately. He knew precisely of that which she was made. And he knew that he had chosen well.

He had long known that he had chosen well for himself, but for the first time he knew that he had chosen well
for Spain.

He shook his head as he considered the strange unfolding of events. If indeed
he
had chosen
her
. Possibly she had been chosen for Spain long before he himself had been chosen.

If there had been any doubt, Nicolette had shown not only him but an entire country today that she was their queen.

“Are you well?” He motioned to a nearby bodyguard walking along beside them.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the man replied, tears welling up in his eyes. “I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness…”

“Have you lost someone?” Nicolette asked.

“No, Your Highness,” he replied, shaken.

“I have a very important mission for you. Can you perform it?” Alejandro whispered very close to his ear.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He nodded.

“Bring news of Esteban and the bride’s family to me in the palace as soon as possible regardless of the time. Do not allow anyone to stop you.” The man nodded and turned immediately to his task.

“Rest your head on my shoulder, my love. Close your eyes.” Once in the new carriage, as they moved forward, Alejandro kept his eyes open for some sign of the instigator. His arm was tight around Nicolette’s waist as he studied the crowds from the moving carriage, desperate to know the whereabouts of the attacker. Terror gripped his heart. He saw no sign of Esteban even as he made haste to remove Nicolette from the scene.

“I could not!” she whispered, her heart pounding. “I fear I shall never sleep again!”

“Shhh! You will. It is over.” But he knew it would never be the same again.

“Viva el rey! Viva la reina!” It became quickly evident that the explosion had not driven the crowd from showing their enthusiasm for the royal couple. The cheering was much louder,
deafening
in fact. Apparently rumors had been spread throughout the crowd, and when they were spotted alive in the new carriage, people went wild with screaming.

And movement was everywhere. It was impossible to spot a fugitive. Tiaras and mantillas were being waved wildly, and people were balanced precariously on windowsills just to catch a glimpse of them.

Requiring every bit of discipline he possessed, King Alejandro waved and smiled to show that they were well.

I must get my queen to safety.

Nicolette lifted her head and began waving to the crowd.

“Please, Nicolette, keep your head from view.”

“No, I shall cheer on the people, some of whom have died. If I was spared, it was for a reason. I can at least be brave for them.”

“Tell me the truth, dearest love.” Alejandro turned to his wife. “Are you wounded?”

“It is too early to say. I do not think so—outside of my heart.” She shook her head, dazed.

Alejandro stared at her in amazement as he anxiously studied his bride for signs of injury. Taking his eyes from her face, his stomach heaved as he saw that Nicolette’s wedding dress was covered in blood.

Chapter Forty-Three

Strengthen them with patience in danger

Let them see the fruits of the test

—Amadeus Wolfgang Mozart,
The Magic Flute

“Instead of rose petals at my wedding processional, I saw arms and legs strewn about! And the…children suffering…” she sobbed.

“Shhh, my love.” Alejandro held her for hours as she cried. “It is over now. You are safe.” His heart was breaking that this should be her wedding night. Nicolette was his angel, and she deserved every wonderful thing.

And he could not give it to her. It was because of him that she was being tortured from the inside out. Just as this had always been his life before he met her—
now it was her life as well.

Many times he had wished not to be the heir to the throne, but nothing to match the severity of this moment.

Even the separation from his parents could not compare.

This time it was not for himself but for Nicolette. He would have given his soul to be a simple country doctor married to her. The memory of her wedding day would forever be a perfect
nightmare
to her.