But Gunner’s phone buzzed, and it was Prince Gus himself, agreeing to give York the turret suite.

“And he says to stop by the garden in the morning, early, and he will show you the secret entrance.”

How-dy.

They spent way too long, then, sharing stories, playing darts and by the time they left, laughing as they walked back to the hotel, the night late and arching over them, York had added Gunner to his list of true mates.

He felt like a king, really, especially when York rose early, went to the castle—yes, castle—and was let in the gate by the morning guard.

He made his way to the garden and nearly fell over when Prince Gus himself met him. He knew the man from the tabloids, years ago, but wasn’t prepared for the solemn royal he met dressed in riding clothes. He had dark hair, the blue eyes of his namesake and held out his hand to York.

York didn’t know if he was supposed to bow or—he lowered his head. “Your…Highness.”

“Gus is fine. Do you play polo?”

“No, sorry,” York said.

He sighed. “I prefer rugby, but the Queen hates blood. Come with me, I’ll show you the turret.”

He walked through the garden toward the grass, edging toward the building. “My guess is that you won’t want to come in through the main gate.” He turned and pointed toward the woods. “There is a side gate. I’ll give you the combination, but it leads right from King Rein’s Chapel, through the woods, to here.” Then he pressed away a tangle of vines and revealed a door. “I don’t use it often, but when I was young, my brother John and I used to sneak out of the castle.” He winked.

Then he opened the door to a narrow, stone staircase that spiraled up. It was held together by rugged beams. York stuck his head in. “Where does it go?”

“Up.”

York looked at him. Gus laughed. “Take it up, all the way. You’ll come out in the royal wing. Don’t worry, it’s secured, so you can’t get in, but from there, go down the hallway, and you’ll come to another door. That leads to the turret.”

“Thank you, Gus,” he said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“If I can’t share the beauty of this world, then what good is it? By the way, stop by the garden and pick up some flowers for the church altar on your way out. Happy nuptials.”

Indeed.

He retrieved the flowers, then headed back to the hotel to put them in water, and left a note for RJ at the concierge.

Next he ventured into town to buy a ring.

Five hours later, he stood outside King Rein’s Chapel, swept up by the fragrance of the arching roses, his heart thudding in his chest.