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It's not exactly hard to see the announcement when it's made. It's everywhere. On every magazine, on every news channel, on every form of social media.
Prince Henry To Wed Lady Martha Fitzroy
What the fuck, Henry?
He'd known Henry was ghosting him for a reason because they'd promised to talk shit out. And yet, his number was blocked and his emails unanswered and every attempt to get in contact was met with ringing silence.
But he knows, he knows, that whatever's going on isn't Henry's idea. That this is the lesser of two evils. And he's not going to let Henry go through with it.
Before he's even out of the corner store where he first saw the headline, he's on the phone to Bea.
"I'm getting you an invitation," Bea says as a greeting.
"Thank you. I'm not—I can't let him go through with this. Do you know why he's—"
"It was marriage to a woman of Mary's choosing or enlistment. And you and I both know how well Henry would handle the military," Bea says with a sigh. "I wish I could make him see that he has more options than just what Gran presents him with, but..."
Alex lets out an explosive sigh and nods, even though Bea can't see it. "Yeah, I know. Bets on whether or not he ghosted me because of Mary's bullshit."
"I believe the Americanism is what? Oh, yes, 'I don't take sucker bets.' Now, get in contact with Pez, he'll be able to get you over here and something appropriately formal enough."
---
He expects his seat to be in the ass-end of nowhere for the ceremony, but it seems Bea's worked some kind of magic because he's actually next to the aisle.
He cannot believe he's about to live out a Taylor Swift song.
As Bea walks past him, she gives him a wink and a poorly-concealed smile that helps his nerves significantly.
Listening to the ceremony is an exercise in the patience, which he's never been good with. If ever there was a time for Alex to manage it, it's now, and he does. It's so slow as to be almost painful, especially with the sight of Henry in his suit up at the altar, but he manages to stay sitting, though the bouncing of his leg irritates the people next to him.
And then—
"Therefore if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace," the Archbishop says and that's Alex's cue.
He stands, pretending his knees aren't shaking, and lets the gasps of shock get the attention of the entire Abbey.
The dissonantly chipper horrified looks from everyone in the room plays in his head and he almost snorts aloud at the thought.
"Have you objections, young man?" The Archbishop's question does what the audience had not and gets Henry's attention. When Henry turns, Alex forces a casualness to his pose that he doesn't feel, hands tucked in his pockets, and smirks at Henry.
He has one chance and he needs to make this count.
Summoning up every memory of Austen love interests and romantic movies he can, Alex does his best to channel them.
"Yes, actually. I do. I am rather in love with His Royal Highness, Prince Henry. I know you're doing this to appease your grandmother, but it shouldn't be at the expense of your own happiness. Even if—" Alex swallows and forces himself to keep talking. "Even if it's not with me, even if you leaving me had nothing to do with this, I want you to be happy, sweetheart. And I like to think that, after three years, I know you fairly well. This won't make you happy. Don't get married, not like this. When you get married, it should be with someone that you love, someone you want, someone that makes you happy. Tell me to go and I'll go, but don't marry her just because of your grandmother's ultimatum. You always have another choice, H. Take it."
With his piece spoken, Alex turns away from Henry and Martha and starts back toward the door, trying to keep himself under control, trying not to break down into tears. A familiar voice stops him in his tracks.
"Alexander Claremont-Diaz, don't you dare leave after that."