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Miranda Priestly had always believed weddings were unnecessarily complicated. Flowers died. Dresses were worn once. Guests expected to be entertained. Families became involved. Newspapers invented stories. And, worst of all, there was usually an alarming amount of white lace.
So when Andrea Sachs suggested they have a small wedding, Miranda had agreed immediately. Small was sensible. Private was better. Elegant was non-negotiable.
They had already chosen the date. Andrea had spent three weeks pretending she wasn’t secretly obsessed with flowers, while Miranda had rejected four different venues because none of them had sufficiently good lighting.
And, for once, Miranda had allowed herself to imagine the wedding as something simple. Just Andrea. Just her. And, of course, Cassidy and Caroline.
The eleven-year-old twins had been involved from the moment Andrea mentioned the word wedding. Caroline had immediately declared that she wanted to help choose the flowers. Cassidy had insisted that Andrea needed something borrowed, something blue, and something sentimental, because she had decided that every bride needed a little luck on her wedding day. And something that would make Miranda ‘less terrifying.’
Miranda had stared at her daughter. “Excuse me?”
Cassidy smiled innocently, while Andrea immediately covered her mouth to hide her laughter and Caroline giggled beside her.
“I think she has a point,” Andrea said.
Miranda slowly turned toward her. “You’re not helping.”
“I know,” Andrea replied, giggling.
Cassidy grinned triumphantly. “See? Andy agrees with me. That means I’m right.”
Caroline burst into laughter beside her.
Miranda narrowed her eyes at all three of them. “Apparently, I am outnumbered in my own home.”
Andrea had nearly choked trying not to laugh.
The girls adored Andrea. They had long ago stopped treating her as merely their mother’s partner and had begun treating her as something closer to family. Andrea was the person they went to when they wanted permission for something they knew Miranda would refuse. She was the person who listened to their school stories, the person who remembered their favorite snacks, the person who let them sit beside her on the sofa while Miranda pretended not to notice.
And, much to Miranda’s irritation, the twins had discovered that Andrea was significantly easier to manipulate.
“Andy said we could have dessert before dinner.”
“Andrea is a traitor,” Miranda said, swirling her wine.
“Andy said you used to do the same thing when you were our age.”
“I did not.” Miranda looked at Andrea.
“Baby, you did,” Andrea said.
Miranda narrowed her eyes. “Really, darling?” Her voice dropped into that low, almost purring tone that sounded perfectly calm but carried a very clear warning: You are in big trouble.
Andrea could only gulp. She froze like a deer caught in headlights, then turned her wide, innocent doe eyes on Miranda, knowing full well that look was one of the few things capable of breaking through Miranda’s intimidating composure. Miranda stared at her as Andrea smiled nervously.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Miranda said, and Andrea knew she had cracked the intimidating façade.
Andrea’s smile widened as Caroline and Cassidy dissolved into laughter.
“You really look like Bambi, Andy!” Caroline exclaimed.
“Andy Bambi!” Cassidy enthusiastically agreed.
Andrea laughed. “Oh, really, my little red pandas?” She quickly rose to her feet.
The twins’ laughter turned into delighted shrieks as they immediately took off running.
“Run!” Cassidy yelled.
“Get back here!” Andrea called, chasing after them.
Caroline and Cassidy raced through the room, laughing and shrieking while Andrea followed close behind. Miranda remained where she was, watching the three of them disappear around the corner. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
Her family, she thought.
Apparently, this was what her life had become. And, despite herself, Miranda couldn’t imagine wanting it any other way. It was one of the many ways Andrea had quietly become part of their lives.
So when the doorbell rang one evening while they were discussing wedding invitations, the twins were upstairs arguing over who got to carry flowers down the aisle. Andrea looked up from the stack of invitations scattered across the dining table.
“I’ll get it.”
“No,” Miranda said. “You won’t.”
Andrea paused. Miranda had already stood.
“Why?”
“Because anyone who arrives unannounced at this hour is either selling something or has a problem.”
Andrea smiled. “You say that like those are mutually exclusive.”
Miranda gave her a look. Then she opened the door to find three impeccably dressed people standing outside, with two black cars waiting behind them and men and women wearing discreet earpieces stationed nearby.
Miranda’s expression immediately hardened. “Can I help you?”
The oldest of the three stepped forward. “Mrs. Priestly?”
“Yes.”
He glanced toward Andrea. “And Miss Sachs.”
Andrea frowned. “Yes?”
“My name is Lord Henri Beaumont. I serve as the senior representative of the Royal Household of Genovia.”
Silence.
Andrea blinked. Miranda did not.
“Genovia,” Miranda repeated flatly.
“Yes.”
“Why are you at my home?”
The man looked at Andrea. “Because we believe Miss Sachs is a member of the Genovian royal family.”
Andrea stared at him, then at Miranda, then back at him. “I’m sorry?”
Lord Beaumont opened a leather folder. “There are matters concerning your maternal lineage that were deliberately concealed for many years. We have spent the past several months verifying genealogical records, succession documents, private correspondence, and archived royal registers.”
Andrea slowly shook her head. “No.”
“Miss Sachs—”
“No. There has to be a mistake.”
“There isn’t.”
“I’m not royalty.”
Miranda folded her arms. “That,” she said coldly, “is precisely what we’re going to establish.”
Before Andrea could respond, footsteps thundered down the staircase.
“Mom?”
Cassidy appeared first, Caroline right behind her. Both girls stopped when they saw the strangers.
Caroline frowned. “Who are they?”
Miranda looked over her shoulder. “Go back upstairs.”
“But—”
“Now.”
The twins exchanged a look. They knew that tone. Still, neither moved.
Andrea smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay, girls.”
Cassidy looked at Andrea. “Are you okay?”
Andrea hesitated. “I… don’t know yet.”
That was enough to make both girls move closer. Caroline slipped her hand into Andrea’s, and Cassidy stood beside her other shoulder. Miranda noticed, and something in her expression softened. Whatever these people were about to say, Andrea wasn’t facing it alone.
The representatives were invited inside. Within twenty minutes, the dining table had disappeared beneath documents—birth certificates, genealogical charts, sealed letters, royal registers, photographs, historical records. Andrea sat motionless at the center of it all, with Cassidy and Caroline on either side of her.
“This is insane,” Andrea whispered.
Lord Beaumont turned a document toward her. “Your mother’s maternal line descends directly from the House of Grimaldi-Thermopolis.”
Andrea stared at the page. Her mother’s name was there. For a moment, everything else in the room seemed to disappear. She traced the name with her eyes, unable to look away.
Her mother. The woman Andrea remembered as kind and gentle, warm and patient, endlessly loving. She had been the sort of mother who made every room feel safer simply by being in it. Soft-spoken but strong, nurturing without ever being overbearing, affectionate in all the little ways that mattered. She had always known when Andrea needed a hug before Andrea ever had to ask for one.
And suddenly, seeing her name written among royal records made her feel as though she were seeing a piece of her mother that had been hidden from her all her life.
Andrea swallowed. She remembered her mother’s laugh. The way she used to brush Andrea’s hair away from her face. The way she would kiss her forehead before bed. The way she called Andrea her little girl even when Andrea was old enough to insist she wasn’t little anymore.
Then came the memory she had spent years trying not to revisit.
France. Her parents had been driving to visit her aunt when the accident happened. A car crash. One moment, they had been on their way to see family. Next, they were gone. Andrea had been left with memories instead of answers.
For years, she had understood their deaths as a terrible accident that had taken both of her parents far too soon. Now she was staring at her mother’s name in a royal succession record.
Her mother had not simply been Andrea’s mother. She had been part of a family Andrea had never known existed. A family with a history. A crown. A country.
Andrea’s fingers trembled against the paper. “She never told me,” she whispered.
And for the first time, Andrea wondered whether her mother had been trying to protect her from this life, or whether she had simply never found the chance to tell her.
Her eyes blurred with tears. “I wish she had.”
Miranda watched her quietly. She didn’t interrupt. She simply reached across the table and placed her hand over Andrea’s.
Andrea looked down at their joined hands, then back at her mother’s name. For a brief moment, she could almost imagine her mother standing beside her, smiling that same warm, reassuring smile she remembered from childhood.
And Andrea realized something that hurt more than the revelation itself. Her mother had carried this secret for her entire life. And now Andrea was carrying it too.
She laughed once. Not because anything was funny. Because there was nothing else to do.
“My mother never mentioned this.”
“The family connection was deliberately concealed.”
“Why?”
“Because of circumstances surrounding the succession at the time.”
Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “You’re telling me an American journalist has been sitting in New York for years while technically being in line for a European throne?”
“Yes.”
“Without knowing it?”
“Yes.”
Miranda looked at Andrea. Andrea looked like she might faint.
Caroline squeezed her hand. “It’s okay.”
Andrea looked down at her. “Thank you.”
Cassidy leaned closer. “So… does this mean you’re a princess?”
Andrea blinked. “I don’t know.”
Lord Beaumont cleared his throat. “Technically, yes.”
Cassidy’s eyes widened. She looked at Caroline. Caroline looked back. Then both girls looked at Andrea.
“Cool,” Cassidy whispered.
Miranda gave her a warning glance. Cassidy immediately straightened. “Sorry.”
Miranda returned her attention to Lord Beaumont. “How far up?”
Lord Beaumont hesitated. Then he answered. “Directly.”
The room went completely silent.
Andrea’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “What does that mean?”
“It means, Miss Sachs, that once the succession records are formally recognized, you are an heir to the throne of Genovia.”
Andrea stared at him. “No.”
Caroline’s grip tightened around her hand. Cassidy looked genuinely concerned now. “But she’s still going to marry Mom, right?”
Miranda looked at her daughter. “Yes.”
Cassidy nodded. “Okay. Good.”
Caroline smiled. “Then we’re still having the wedding.”
Andrea’s eyes filled with tears. Miranda reached across the table and squeezed Andrea’s shoulder. “Apparently,” she said dryly, “my daughters have already settled the matter.”
Andrea laughed through her tears.
Miranda reached for the nearest document. She read every line, then another, then another. She asked questions. Difficult ones. Dates. Names. Legal precedents. Succession laws. Family connections. Miranda challenged every inconsistency she could find, and the representatives answered every one.
Finally, Miranda lowered the document. Her eyes moved slowly toward Andrea. And for perhaps the first time in her life, Miranda Priestly looked genuinely speechless.
Andrea Mignonette Sachs.
Except that wasn’t the whole name anymore.
Andrea Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Sachs.
Heir to Genovia.
Andrea stared at Miranda. “What does this mean for us?”
Miranda crossed the room. She crouched in front of Andrea, ignoring the people watching them.
“It means,” she said quietly, “that apparently our wedding has become considerably more annoying.”
Andrea let out a broken laugh. “Miranda.”
Miranda took her hands. “Look at me.”
Andrea did.
“I fell in love with you,” Miranda said, “not your family tree.”
Andrea’s eyes filled.
“I fell in love with the woman who argued with me when everyone else was too frightened to speak. The woman who challenged me. The woman who made me laugh when I didn’t want to. The woman who walked into my life and turned every carefully controlled part of it upside down.”
She brushed her thumb across Andrea’s cheek. “That woman is still sitting right here.”
Andrea’s eyes filled with tears, but a small laugh escaped her.
“You are my Andy Bambi,” Miranda said, rolling her eyes as though she found the nickname utterly ridiculous, even though somewhere deep down, she found it strangely fitting, especially when she heard Andrea’s contagious laugh.
Andrea smiled through her tears. “Your Andy Bambi?”
Miranda’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “My Andy Bambi.”
Andrea laughed again, the sound warm and familiar, reminding Miranda why she had fallen in love with her in the first place.
Andrea swallowed. “But I’m supposed to be a princess.”
Miranda’s mouth curved faintly. “You’ve always been dramatic enough for royalty.”
Andrea laughed through her tears.
Cassidy raised her hand. “Does that mean Andrea gets a crown?”
Miranda looked at her. “Eventually.”
Cassidy grinned.
Caroline leaned against Andrea’s shoulder. “She’ll look pretty.”
Andrea smiled.
Miranda kissed Andrea’s forehead. “Your title changes nothing.”
And for the first time since the representatives had arrived, Andrea believed her.
₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹
Their private wedding lasted exactly eleven days. On the twelfth day, the palace announced that the heir to the Genovian throne would marry Miranda Priestly. The world lost its mind.
What had once been intended as a quiet ceremony became an international event.
Within days, Miranda and Andrea were on a private flight to Genovia, surrounded by royal staff, security, and enough luggage to make Andrea question whether they were getting married or moving countries. Cassidy and Caroline sat across from them, equally fascinated by the sudden transformation of their lives.
Caroline stared out the window. “Do you think there will be a castle?”
“There is a palace,” Andrea said.
“Same thing.”
Cassidy looked at Miranda. “Are we royal now?”
Miranda glanced up from the documents in her hands. “Apparently.”
Cassidy smiled. “I like it.”
Andrea laughed. “I can’t believe we’re actually flying to Genovia.”
Miranda glanced up from the documents in her hands. “You are the heir to the throne. I would hope you could manage to visit your own country.”
Andrea gave her a look. “I didn’t know it was my country eleven days ago.”
“Yes. You’ve mentioned that.”
Caroline leaned toward Andrea. “Don’t worry. We’ll help you.”
Andrea smiled. “Thank you.”
Cassidy nodded solemnly. “We’re very experienced.”
Miranda raised an eyebrow. “At what?”
“Being your daughters.”
Andrea laughed.
By the time the plane descended over Genovia, Andrea could see the coastline, rolling green hills, villages nestled among the countryside, and the unmistakable towers of the royal city in the distance. For the first time, Andrea understood that this was not simply a place from a family history book. It was home.
Their arrival was met with a royal procession. Crowds gathered along the streets, waving Genovian flags as Andrea and Miranda passed. Bells rang from church towers. Cameras followed their every movement. And waiting at the palace was an entire royal household preparing for a wedding neither of them had ever imagined having.
Cassidy and Caroline were particularly delighted by the palace. They followed Andrea through the halls, asking questions about paintings, statues, family portraits, and enormous rooms that seemed to have no practical purpose. Andrea answered as many as she could.
Eventually, Caroline slipped her hand into Andrea’s. “You really are going to be our princess.”
Andrea looked down at her. “Looks like it.”
Caroline smiled. “I like that.”
Cassidy appeared on Andrea’s other side. “Me too.”
Andrea looked between them. “Why?”
“Because you’re already family.”
Andrea’s eyes softened. She pulled both girls into a hug. “Come here.”
The twins wrapped their arms around her.
From the other end of the corridor, Miranda watched them. For once, she said nothing. She simply smiled.
What had begun as a private wedding in New York was now being prepared as a royal ceremony in Genovia.
₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹
The cathedral was transformed. Genovian flags lined every street leading toward the square. Royal insignia hung from enormous stone arches. Thousands of flowers filled the cathedral, climbing the pillars and spilling from towering arrangements. Hundreds of candles burned beneath vaulted ceilings. Ceremonial guards stood in perfect formation.
Foreign royals arrived. Presidents and prime ministers sent representatives. Aristocrats filled the front rows, while celebrities, designers, diplomats, and journalists gathered throughout the cathedral. Among the guests were the people closest to Miranda and Andrea, including Nigel, Emily, Serena, Jin, Amari, and Charlie, along with a select group representing Runway. And outside, thousands upon thousands of citizens filled the streets, waiting to see their future queen marry Miranda Priestly.
Inside, Cassidy and Caroline stood beside Andrea before the ceremony. Both girls had been given small roles in the wedding. Caroline carried flowers. Cassidy carried the ceremonial ring cushion.
Andrea looked down at them. “You two ready?”
Cassidy nodded. “Absolutely.”
Caroline smiled. “Are you?”
Andrea took a breath. “No.”
The twins laughed, and Andrea looked toward the enormous cathedral doors before turning back to them. “I’m scared.”
Caroline reached for her hand. “You’ll be okay.”
Cassidy nodded. “Mom will be there.”
Andrea smiled. “That’s true.” The cathedral bells began to ring, and she squeezed both their hands. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Cassidy asked.
“For being here.”
Caroline smiled. “Where else would we be?”
Andrea’s eyes filled with tears.
Then the doors opened.
Andrea and Miranda stood together inside the cathedral, hidden behind the enormous wooden doors.
For a moment, neither woman spoke.
They were seeing each other in their wedding attire for the first time.
Andrea looked breathtaking.
Her wedding gown was elegant without being overly extravagant, its delicate fabric flowing into a long, sweeping train adorned with intricate embroidery, subtle beading, and their favorite flowers woven along the bodice and skirt. Resting atop her auburn hair was her mother’s tiara, the same one she had worn as a Genovian princess. Passed down through generations, it was more than a royal heirloom. It was a piece of the mother Andrea had lost, now returned to her daughter on the day she stepped into the life her mother had once known.
Her cathedral veil cascaded gracefully from the tiara, its edges embroidered with the same flowers as her gown. As Andrea stood beneath the cathedral lights, she carried not only the memories of the woman who had raised her, but also the feeling that her mother was quietly walking beside her one more time.
Miranda’s eyes lingered on her.
Then Andrea looked at Miranda.
Miranda wore an impeccably tailored ivory wedding suit, elegant and sharply structured, with intricate detailing that gave it the grandeur expected of a royal wedding while preserving her unmistakable sense of style. Along the delicate embroidery were their favorite flowers, subtly woven into the fabric as a private symbol of the love they shared, hidden within the grandeur of the occasion.
Draped over her shoulders was a long ceremonial cape that flowed behind her in a dramatic trail, its fabric sweeping gracefully across the cathedral floor with every step. The same floral embroidery adorned its edges, adding a delicate touch to the otherwise commanding design and giving Miranda a regal elegance that was unmistakably her own.
Andrea stared. “Wow.”
Miranda raised an eyebrow. “That’s all you have to say?”
Andrea smiled. “You look incredible.”
Miranda’s expression softened. “So do you.”
Andrea looked down at herself, suddenly self-conscious. “Really?”
Miranda stepped closer. “Really.”
For a moment, the weight of the occasion disappeared. There was no noise, no cameras, no crowds, no titles. Just Miranda looking at Andrea as though she were the only person in the entire cathedral. Andrea reached for her hand, and Miranda intertwined their fingers.
Andrea glanced toward the enormous doors. “This was supposed to be private,” she whispered.
Miranda looked toward the doors as well. “It was.”
Andrea turned to her. “For eleven days.”
Miranda’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “Apparently, that was the limit of Genovian privacy.”
Andrea laughed softly.
Behind them, Cassidy and Caroline stood in their own formal wedding attire, looking between their mothers with barely contained excitement.
Caroline gently adjusted a fold in Andrea’s veil. “You look like a princess.”
Andrea smiled. “I suppose I am.”
Cassidy looked at Miranda’s cape. “And Mom looks like she could conquer a kingdom.”
Miranda gave her daughter a look. “Do not encourage her.”
Andrea laughed as the cathedral bells began to ring, their sound echoing through the enormous sanctuary. She took a deep breath, and Miranda squeezed her hand. “Ready?”
Andrea looked at her. “With you? Always.”
The enormous doors began to open, and together, they stepped forward.
Cassidy and Caroline walked ahead of Andrea, scattering flowers and carrying the ceremonial cushion, both trying very hard to look dignified despite the enormous crowd watching them. Andrea and Miranda followed.
For all the grandeur surrounding them, Miranda and Andrea walked side by side, their gazes fixed on the altar ahead, each trying to contain the emotion of the moment as they approached the place where they would vow to spend their lives together.
Thankfully, the cathedral had strict rules during the ceremony. No press cameras. No flashing bulbs. No phones. No intrusive photography. Only the official royal photographer and their carefully selected wedding photographer were permitted inside. Miranda considered that one of the few sensible decisions the palace had made.
For once, there was no frenzy of cameras between them, no journalists watching their every movement. There was only Andrea standing before her, looking impossibly beautiful beneath the cathedral lights.
Cassidy and Caroline took their places beside the altar. Caroline looked at Andrea, then at Miranda, then smiled.
They exchanged vows beneath the Genovian crest. Andrea’s voice trembled as she spoke, but she never looked away from Miranda.
“I never imagined my life would lead me here,” she whispered. “I never imagined I would find a love that could make me feel like I had finally found home. But somehow, through all the chaos, all the impossible things that brought us here, I found you.”
Miranda’s expression softened.
“And I promise you,” Andrea continued, “that whether I stand beside you in a cathedral like this or somewhere with nothing but you and me, I will choose you. Every time.”
Miranda took Andrea’s hands. “I have spent my entire life believing that control was the same thing as certainty,” she said. “Then you came into my life and proved me wrong.”
Andrea smiled through her tears.
“You challenged me. You infuriated me. You surprised me. And, eventually, you became the one person I could never imagine my life without.”
Miranda’s thumb brushed gently over Andrea’s hand.
“I promise to stand beside you through every title, every responsibility, every impossible expectation. I promise to love the woman beneath the crown, just as I loved her before she ever knew there was a crown. We will always choose you.”
Andrea’s eyes filled with tears.
Miranda glanced briefly toward Cassidy and Caroline. The twins were smiling. Andrea followed her gaze, then she smiled too.
Their hands trembled only slightly as they exchanged rings. When Andrea slipped the ring onto Miranda’s finger, she stared at it for a moment as though she still couldn’t believe any of this was real. Then Miranda placed Andrea’s ring on her finger.
A wedding ring. A royal ring. Both are somehow real.
The priest smiled at them. “By the authority entrusted to me, I now pronounce you married.”
For one suspended moment, neither woman moved. Then Miranda reached for Andrea.
They shared a kiss beneath the Genovian crest, gentle at first, then lingering, while the cathedral erupted into applause. Cassidy immediately smiled at Caroline. Caroline whispered something into her ear, and Cassidy giggled.
It was more than a royal kiss for the cameras. It was a promise. A kiss that marked the end of the lives they had once known and the beginning of everything they would build together. A family. A marriage. A new life.
The cathedral bells exploded into sound. Andrea laughed softly, still breathless.
Miranda leaned toward her. “Still think this is a small wedding?”
Andrea whispered back, “Shut up.”
Miranda smiled and kissed her once more.
Behind them, Cassidy and Caroline applauded enthusiastically. Andrea turned toward them and laughed. “You’re both ridiculous.”
Cassidy shrugged. “We’re happy for you, Mama!”
Caroline nodded. “We love you, Mama!”
Andrea’s smile faltered for just a second. Then her eyes filled with tears. “I love you both too, my red pandas.”
Cassidy and Caroline grinned, and Andrea reached for them, pulling both girls into a brief hug.
Miranda watched her. And in that moment, she realized the crown had not simply given Andrea a title. It had given their family another chapter.
₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹
The enormous cathedral doors opened. The sound outside was overwhelming. Cheers rolled through the square like thunder. Thousands of Genovian flags waved beneath the afternoon sun.
Andrea stepped outside first. For a moment, she simply stared.
There were people everywhere. People were cheering for her. Calling her name. Holding flowers. Crying. Smiling. Waving flags.
Andrea lifted one hand. The crowd erupted. She laughed, almost helplessly, and waved harder.
Beside her, Miranda maintained her perfectly composed expression. Until Andrea looked over.
There it was. The smallest smile. Private. Real.
Cassidy and Caroline followed behind them, smiling and waving at the crowd. Then Andrea reached for Miranda’s hand. Miranda looked down at their joined hands before looking back at Andrea.
Andrea gave her the smallest nod.
Together, they turned toward the thousands of people gathered before them. And then they bowed. Hand in hand.
It was not simply a gesture for the cameras. It was a sign of respect. A quiet acknowledgement from the woman who would one day sit upon Genovia’s throne and the woman who had just married her.
Andrea bowed deeply, her expression softening as she looked toward the people who had gathered to welcome her home. Miranda bowed beside her, equally composed and graceful.
For the people of Genovia, it was a rare sight. Their future queen was standing before them. And for the first time in years, they were looking upon a princess of their own.
Genovia had not had a princess since Andrea’s mother, the last woman to hold the title before her daughter. Now, after all those years, the royal family had a princess again. Their princess. Their future queen.
The crowd slowly fell silent. Then something unexpected happened.
One person bowed. Then another. And another. Within seconds, thousands of Genovians lowered their heads and bowed in return. Respecting their princess. Welcoming her home.
Andrea slowly raised her head. Her eyes immediately filled with tears. She looked at Miranda, almost overwhelmed.
“Did they just…”
“Yes,” Miranda whispered.
Andrea looked back at the crowd. Thousands of people were still bowing before them. “They’re bowing to me.”
Miranda gently squeezed her hand. “They’re showing you the same respect you just showed them.”
Andrea swallowed hard. She had spent most of her life believing royalty belonged to history books, fairy tales, and people she would never meet. Now an entire country was bowing before her. Not because she demanded it. But because she had bowed first.
Andrea’s fingers tightened around Miranda’s. Behind them, Cassidy and Caroline watched with wide eyes before joining their mothers. Andrea and Miranda each took one of their hands.
Together, the four of them stood outside the cathedral. Miranda looked at her daughters, then at Andrea. For a moment, none of them said anything.
Then, together, they bowed. A formal royal bow, in a smaller, perfectly synchronized bow.
When the royal family bowed together, the crowd erupted into cheers once more. Andrea laughed through her tears. Cassidy and Caroline straightened on either side of her, their smiles bright as they looked toward the cheering crowd.
Miranda looked at them. Andrea looked back.
For one brief moment, there was no throne, no title, no expectations, and no royal protocol. There were only them. Just a family.
Miranda smiled at her. “Welcome home, Your Royal Highness.”
Andrea smiled. “Don’t call me that.”
Miranda’s lips curved. “Get used to it.”
And with their hands still intertwined, Miranda and Andrea continued down the cathedral steps, followed by Cassidy and Caroline, while the people of Genovia cheered for the princess they had waited years to see again. The cathedral bells continued ringing overhead as Genovian flags waved around them and cameras captured the beginning of a new royal era.
Andrea had unexpectedly inherited a throne. But as she walked beside Miranda Priestly, with Cassidy and Caroline beside them, she knew the crown was not the greatest thing she had been given.
She had Miranda. She had two girls who had already claimed her as family. And she had a home she had never known she was missing. Once upon a time, Andrea had dreamed of a fairytale, never imagining that one day, she would become a princess herself.
But standing beside Miranda, with Cassidy and Caroline holding her hands, she realized the crown was never the dream. This was. Her family. Her love. Her home. And as the bells rang above them, Andrea smiled through her tears, knowing it was indeed true: a dream is a wish your heart makes.
That was more than enough.
Fin.