I apologise for any mistakes in this one. My husband decided he was gonna try and help me with it. After an hour of his 'help,' I finally had to tell him to leave me alone
"Emma, Sweetheart? We're landing soon. You have to wake up."
Killian gave his wife's shoulders a gentle shake to rouse her, and when her lashes began fluttering, he bent to press a kiss to her lips.
"Hi," she whispered, as she reached for his hand to hold tightly in her own.
"Hey," he smiled back softly, brushing the hair from her face as he bent once more to place a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry to wake you, Love. But we'll need to strap in soon for landing."
"It's okay. I'll um… I'll go freshen up." Emma pulled herself up to a sitting position slowly, flicking her eyes around the small room as if to reassure herself of where she was.
Killian gave her all the time she needed, watching in silence as the memory of what had happened seemed to flash through her mind, and the stone mask he recognised well descended into place.
When she finally emerged from the small bathroom, that mask was still firmly fixed in place, and there wasn't a stray hair in sight.
"Sweetheart?" Killian stopped his wife with a gentle hand on her arm, and Emma turned to face him with an awkward smile.
He hated the sight of it.
That was not his smile. It was not the one he'd come to know and love so well, over the last year. "You don't have to do this," he told her. "Anton and I… we're your family. You can be vulnerable around us. We won't judge you for that."
The mask cracked a little as Emma laced her fingers with his, to give his hand a firm squeeze. "I know," she replied softly. "But if I drop this wall now, it's not coming back up any time soon. And there will be photographers waiting for us when we leave this plane."
"Okay," he agreed softly. "But just remember, I'll be right here with you the entire time."
Emma nodded her head and made to leave the room, but froze for a moment when she reached for the doorknob. "I'm sorry, Killian. I'm sorry I'm dragging your name through the mud this way. Your family's name…"
"Hey!" he protested firmly, cutting her off before she could get any further. "I chose this life, remember? Me and my family… we all knew what we were getting ourselves into when I choose you. And even knowing what I do now, I can confidently state than neither myself; nor my brother; or our parents would make a different choice in life. We love you, Emma. You're our wife; our sister; and our daughter. You're a Jones now, even if you don't have the name. And once you become a Jones… well… you're kinda stuck with us for life then."
He watched as a small tear slipped its way free of that mask she was wearing to slide down her cheek, before Emma scrubbed it away and blinked harshly as she pulled open the door.
"I love you guys too," she whispered back over her shoulder. "And I might not be a Jones in name, but I always feel like one in my heart."
Killian reached for her free hand and squeezed it tightly, as he followed his wife from the room and back out to the main cabin of the plane.
Anton was still sat where they had last seen the man. He looked more exhausted than Killian had ever seen him look before, but he still had a small smile for Emma, as she took her seat opposite him.
"Has there been any news?" she asked, keeping her tone as firm and businesslike as she possibly could.
Anton took a moment to fill the couple in on the news that he had received from their legal team so far. The French authorities had made progress with identifying the photographer responsible for taking the images, but hadn't yet managed to make the arrest. It seemed like the guy had realised what was coming for him, and the moment his payment for the pictures had cleared, he had withdrawn every penny and fled. But the French police were confident they would catch up to him before the end of the week.
"The statement you wrote and published seems to have gone down well," Anton added, as he looked over to Killian. "Clarence House and Buckingham Palace have both released one of their own to inform the media that Mary and Ruth stand by you, and condemn the actions of the French press. But the news sites have chosen to run with what you wrote, instead of the official press releases."
"You wrote something?" Emma asked softly, turning her full attention to her husband, as that mask of hers cracked a little more.
"I wanted to do something to help." Killian shrugged off her intense gaze, but they both knew it was a big step for him. He wasn't just taking control of the situation they'd found themselves in. He was also presenting himself as a fully-fledged member of the royal family, for the first time since their wedding night. And in doing so, he was confirming his rightful place beside his wife in the family's hierarchy.
Even though there were still some people in the world who didn't yet believe him worthy of that position, Anton was happy to note that a lot had respected the Duke for the way he had handled the situation.
Anton slid another small tablet across the table, already loaded to Killian's Facebook page for Emma to read, if she wished. But the young princess wasn't interested in her husband's written words at that moment. She was far more interested in the ones he had spoken to her since she had woken.
"I love you, my husband," she whispered quietly, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, as she dropped her head down to rest against his shoulder.
The angle between the two of them was a little awkward, but Killian still found a way to make it work, as he twisted his body round to face hers.
"I love you too, my Princess."
Thanks for reading and reviewing.
I want to add special thanks to Luna, Alexa Ace, Talz and all the guest reviewers for their kind words too.