London, England
December 2017

As every fairy tale comes real

I'm roused early by Ken lightly stroking my face. "Good morning," he murmurs when I open my eyes.

"Good morning," I whisper and smile at him.

He grins. "Best morning ever."

"Tomorrow might beat it," I point out, raising both eyebrows.

"Best morning so far," he amends, his eye shining with mirth.

"It is," I concur, while raising a hand and letting it trail along his cheek.

For a moment, we just lie there, nose to nose, beaming at each other, and much as I'm looking forward to today, I suddenly wouldn't mind staying –

Beep, beep, goes the alarm. Beep, beep.

Ken groans and turns on his back. "We should get up. We have a church to be at in five hours."

"And I need to get princessed-up beforehand," I add, unsure whether to feel excited or daunted.

"You always looks like a princess," Ken tells me, gently tapping my nose. "And just for today, I'll be the Disney Prince to go with it."

"Then I suppose we really should get up." Somewhat reluctantly, I swing my legs over the side of the bed.

Ken gets up as well. "Give me a moment to get dressed and I'll drive you to Clarence House."

I turn to look at him. "I can take one of the fleet cars."

He, however, isn't having it. "Today, of all days, I'll drive you. Lucky think I have my bike here."

And that's how, fifteen minutes later, I find myself on the backseat of his motorbike, my arms wrapped tightly around his midriff.

"Ok?" he calls back.

"Ok," I reply loudly, hoping he can hear me through the helmets.

Just like in the long-gone New York days, we're relying on the motorcycle helmets to keep our identities hidden. Otherwise, we couldn't move through London like this on even a normal day and certainly not on this day – our wedding day!

Because of the people still camping along The Mall, we're not taking a longer rout, but eventually reach the gate outside Clarence House. Ken briefly raises the visor of his helmet to identify himself, causing a young guard to nearly fall over his feet in his hurry to clear the way. Driving the final meters, Ken brings the bike to a final stop in front of the main entrance.

"Your destination, milday," he announces grandly, making me laugh.

"For now," I amend, swinging my leg over the back of the motorbike. "There are quite a few more places I intend to go today."

"One being the big white church?" he asks, taking off his helmet.

"One being the big white church," I confirm while removing my own helmet (and completely messing up my hair).

Ken remains sitting on the bike, but rests his helmet on the handlebars and reaches out a hand to take mine. I step closer, smiling up at him. "Yes?"

He shrugs. "Nothing. I just don't want to let you go just yet."

"Nor me," I agree, my smile widening. "But you have to go dress in your red Disney Prince Uniform and I have to put on my purple mini dress."

"Purple mini dress?" He chuckles. "Part of me would want you to wear one just for the looks on everyone's faces."

"Who says I'm not?" I quip.

"You'll look gorgeous no matter what," he assures loyally.

I cast a pointed look at my current get-up of old sweatpants, slept-in shirt, bare face and mussed-up hair. "If you're willing to take me like this, there's little I can do wrong later."

"I rather think the question is if you'll still take me once I look like I'm cosplaying as Prince Charming," Ken points out, grinning.

"Prince Charming's jacket is white," pipes up a voice behind me and without turning, I know it's Izzie.

"And his trousers are red," I remind her, sharing an amused look with Ken.

Izzie makes a sound to let me know that she's unimpressed by my argument. Then, without warning, she suddenly calls out, "Muuuuuuuummy! Rilla is back!"

Quickly, I look over my shoulder, but only see the back of her as she disappears into Clarence House.

"Looks like they were waiting for you," Ken remarks drily.

"I left a note to tell where I was going," I defend myself. "And I told one of the guards!"

"He's probably not on duty anymore," he speculates.

I shrug. "Could be. Either way, I should probably go inside before Izzie drags everyone out here."

Ken nods, but still doesn't let go of my hand. Instead, he tucks me closer. I drop my helmet and snake my arms around his neck as he strokes my face.

"Remember," he tells me quietly, "we're the only thing that matters. If you get nervous today, focus on that. The hoopla is for everyone else, but the main thing is that by the end of the day, you and I will be married. What matters are our vows and promises to each other. The rest is noise."

"Married," I repeat, savouring the word. "I like the sound of that."

"You and me both," he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss me.

We are interrupted, rather rudely, by Joy's voice! "Rilla! There you are! We've been waiting for you all morning!"

I'm more than a little reluctant to leave the warmth of Ken's arms to face my sister, but he, smiling, gives me a little push. "Come on. There's a Disney Prince Uniform waiting for me and you have a purple mini dress to put on."

The joke makes me smile. Giving him a final peck, I slip my arms from Ken's shoulders and turn to look at my sister. From behind, I feel Ken briefly take my hand and give it a squeeze as he quietly tells me, "I'll see you at the big white church."

I just have a moment to smile at him over my shoulder before he pulls his helmet back on and starts up the motorbike. With a wave at Joy, he turns and drives off, leaving me to face her.

"Look, before you can say anything, I'm sorry," I begin, actually meaning it. "I just felt that I needed to see Ken last night. I didn't mean to leave you waiting!"

Joy laughs. "It's okay. We found your note and your Hanson told us you were okay."

Trust Hanson to always know where I am, even when I'm sneaking out!

"Besides," Joy continues, "it's the bride's prerogative to be late on her wedding day, isn't it?"

Bride!

Wedding day!

"Not when millions of people are waiting for her appearance," I point out, smiling wryly.

"Ignore them!" Joy declares firmly. "You and Ken are getting married today and that's what counts."

"He said the same thing," I tell her, smiling at the memory.

"Clever man," decides Joy, before reaching out to grab my hand. "Now, come. Unless you want to get married in those fancy sweatpants, we should get you ready."

She drags me inside and I follow willingly. Most of the female family members have gathered in the drawing room and look up expectantly when we enter. Izzie sits on the windowsill and grins smugly.

"Darling!" Mum exclaims and rushes towards me to give me a hug.

Grandma Bertha is hot on her heels. "Are you okay? No second thoughts, I hope?" she asks and, to her credit, doesn't look at all pleased by the possibility.

"I'm good," I promise, feeling embarrassed by my own behaviour. "It's all good. I just missed Ken last night and went to see him."

"We thought you might have bolted," remarks Di and arches an eyebrow.

"All dramatically on a horse," Seraphina elaborates, grinning. "Like in that old Julia Roberts movie."

"I know that one!" pipes up Katya. "It's the one that isn't Pretty Woman."

Nan raises her head. "Didn't they actually ride into the sunset in that one?" she asks thoughtfully.

"Sounds more like it, anyway," interjects Tatty. "Rilla leaving Ken at the altar is not something we even joke about around here!"

"In that case, shouldn't we take this upstairs and get her prepared?" suggests Lucy practically.

"Her assistants arrived earlier today, as did the designer and the woman doing hair and make-up," Una backs her up. "They're all waiting in the dressing room."

The assistants she's talking about are Charlotte and Melissa, while Pip, of course, is the designer and Rhea the stylist in question.

"What time is it?" I ask, while allowing Grandmother Marilla to turn me towards the door and march me out the room.

"Not yet seven," Nia calls after me.

"Still plenty of time to get you dolled up," Faith adds optimistically.

Let's hope so!

Upstairs, I'm transferred into the capable hands of Melissa, Charlotte, Pip and Rhea. They're all already dressed in their wedding guest finery and I don't even want to know when they got up today.

"All ready?" asks Melissa, beaming brightly at me.

I look down at my sweatpants. "Not yet, but I'm counting on you to change that."

"We're on it," promises Rhea cheerfully and presses me down into a chair in front of a vanity.

For the next two hours, I'm primped and preened to within an inch of my life. Apparently, my contribution is not really required, so I just sit and watch as the girl with her oily face and messy hair is slowly transformed into a bride. My friends and family have to get ready themselves, but they take turns so there's always someone sitting and chatting to me. (Privately, I suspect they're afraid I might disappear again, but they won't admit to it.)

"And now, for the tiara," Charlotte announces after what feels like half an eternity and brings a velvety case.

Katya, Nan and Seraphina, who're currently on Rilla Duty, crane their necks to get a good look as Melissa opens the case to reveal the Girls of Great Britain and Ireland Tiara.

"Ooooh!" coos Seraphina.

"So pretty!" agrees Nan with a sigh.

Katya gets up to get a better look. "It's gorgeous. And it goes so well with the lace of the dress!"

It does, indeed. Pip and her team really surpassed themselves in creating the dress – or, the ceremony dress, I should say, because it's one of two. It's off-white (because stark white makes me look as pink as Porky Pig) and long-sleeved, with the beautiful lace keeping it looking light and ethereal. It has a straight bateau-neckline and an A-line skirt with applied lace and a short train. The actual length to fill St. Paul's will later be added by an embroidered cloak, just as Pip envisioned on the very first day we met. It sits right where the neckline of the dress does, closing at the neck before trailing back over my shoulders to reveal the dress beneath. All put together, it's a work of art and even Mum admitted to not having the words to do it justice.

The tiara adds the final touch to my hairstyle and once it's firmly anchored in my up-do, Rhea raises her hands and steps back. "My work is done," she announces. "Over to you, Pip."

Pip jumps to her feet, not needing to be told twice, and directs me to stand on a small pedestal. With the help of various family members who drift in and out of the room, she dresses me firstly in elaborate undergarments, before helping me step into the dress itself and fastening the many eyehooks at the back.

"Good thing Ken won't have to peel you out of that one tonight," remarks Di drily, watching the process. "He'd probably get lost."

"The other one is no better," chimes in Lucy, already dressed in her bridesmaid dress. "It has lots of tiny buttons at the back."

"Yes, well." I shrug. "I have to make him put in the work, right?"

"With those buttons, he certainly will," agrees Pip, before waving Charlotte and Melissa closer to help her lay the cloak over my shoulder. "Where's the brooch?" she asks.

Grandmother Marilla comes closer, holding the amethyst brooch that I always admired so as a child. "Right here," she states. Leaning forward, she carefully attaches the brooch to the front of my cloak. It's actually fastened with hidden hooks, meaning the brooch is mere decoration, but when Grandmother Marilla offered to lent it to me for the day, I agreed before she'd even finished speaking. Not only is it a beautiful way to include my family (not the least because of the well-loved family tale about a young Mum thinking diamonds ought to be purple), it's also just bluish enough to count as my 'something blue'.

The dress, of course, is the 'something new', the tiara the 'something borrowed' and the antique floral diamond earrings that Owen and Leslie gave me for our engagement are the 'something old'. Uncle Al, improbably enough, provided a silver sixpence with the face of a young Queen Victoria from his own personal coin collection. Under Pip's direction, it has been taped into place in my left shoe in a way that won't give me blisters by the end of the day.

With the brooch fastened, Grandmother Marilla steps back to survey me. "Beautiful," she declares, which, coming from her, feels extra special.

When I turn, I can see that the room is now crowded with people. Loitering by the door, I even spy my brothers and father, who have hitherto steered clear of the dressing room.

"Good?" I ask, picking up the cloak and lightly swinging it around my legs.

"Gorgeous," replies Mum and when I look at her, I can see she has tears in her eyes.

Joy sees it as well and extends an arm around Mum's shoulders. "Aw, Mum! No need to get all emotional!" But when our eyes meet, I can see that she, too, is looking suspiciously teary.

For the next few minutes, I allow everyone to examine me and commend my attire, before Melissa steps forward, clearing her throat. "I don't want to interrupt, but it's time that the family leaves for St. Paul's. The cars are already waiting outside."

"Is the rest of the bridal party already here?" Lucy wants to know.

Charlotte nods. "Yes, Their Royal Highnesses arrived a few minutes ago. They're waiting downstairs with the children."

The Royal Highnesses, in this case, are Persis and Ashley, who're joining Lucy as my adult bridesmaids – which Ashley, all of fourteen, is very excited about. The child bridesmaids are Izzie and Preti as well as Zoe and Puddles. Making up the male part of bridal party are the two pageboys, three-year old Jasper, son of Steve and Fiona, and four-year old Jims, son of Hanson and his wife Summer.

The older bridesmaids are dressed in simple silk dresses invoking the colour of my amethyst brooch. The four younger bridesmaids are dressed in white, with sashes in the same bluish-purple colour and flower crowns to match. The page boys are wearing miniature versions of the black dress uniform worn by the Blues and Royal, a ceremonial regiment Ken used to serve in. All seven bridesmaids wear their birthstone bracelet, just like I do, with the page boys having lapel pins to match that I asked the nice lady at the flea market to make specifically for them.

"The bridal party leaves in two carriages just before the bride and her father," Melissa informs everyone, quite as if everyone didn't already know that.

It does the job of getting people moving, alas, which was probably the intention. There are final hugs and kisses, some of them a little tearful (which makes me grateful for the super special waterproof make-up Rhea applied to my eyes), until finally, it's just Dad, me and my four helpful assistants in the room.

"Um, we'll give you a moment," announces Charlotte with a quick look around, before herding the other three out of the room.

"Just shout when you want to leave," Pip calls out over her shoulder. "We'll come and help you with the dress."

"Will do," I confirm, just before the door closes behind them.

After having secured my family charm bracelet on my left wrist, I move my gaze over to Dad. "Ready?" I ask him.

He, however, doesn't answer, at least not right away. Instead, he looks at me and his expression is so emotional that I suddenly feel a lump in my throat.

"Dad?" I repeat, my voice slightly raspy. (And I held up so well until now!)

He shakes his head slightly, as if having to wake himself. "Can it really be that my little girl is getting married?"

I shrug, trying to smile, but the lump in my throat just doubled in size. (I will not cry!) "I guess so?"

"It feels like it was just yesterday that I spent entire nights rocking you because you were colicky and wouldn't fall asleep," Dad tells me, apparently still deep in thought.

Me, I frown.

Colicky?

How undignified!

"Da-ad." I draw out the word, slightly annoyed. "Can we please not talk about me having colics today? It kind of kills the mood."

"But you did!" he insists. "You kept the entire house awake with your crying."

"Da-ad," I complain, again.

He looks up at me standing on my pedestal and while his expression is still somewhat wistful, there's also a familiar glint in his eyes.

He's teasing me!

"Dad!" I protest, sharply. "Stop mocking me!"

"Just a little bit," he amends with a smile. Reaching out a hand, he carefully helps me down.

When I stand before him, he looks at me closely for a moment. "How beautiful you are! Your prince won't know what hit him."

"I hope so," I reply, laughing. "You look quite dashing yourself."

And he does, in his crisp morning dress with a top hat to go with it. On his chest gleams his brand new Order of Canada, presented by the Governor General after he retired some weeks ago for services to the nation as one of Canada's best neurosurgeons. (Mum, who so far has 'only' been awarded the Order of Nova Scotia, took a good look at it before announcing playfully that she, at least, was holding out for an Order of Merit. Grandma Bertha, by the looks of it, had thoughts on the entire concept.)

"Let no-one say the family Blythe doesn't clean up well when called to stand upon the world stage," Dad jokes.

I groan. "Don't remind me!"

He laughs, but it's sympathetic. "You'll do well," he assures. "Or are you having second thoughts? Because if so, I think I've seen a police officer with a motorbike downstairs. We could steal it."

"You don't know how to drive a motorbike," I remind him, smiling.

"I have many hidden talents," he announces grandly, "and I shall prove it to you yet. But first, shall we get you married?"

I take a deep breath.

"Yes," I reply firmly. "Let's get me married."

The ride to the church is a bit a blur and even as it happens, I know that I will only remember bits and pieces of it afterwards. My heart is fluttering in my chest and my hands feel uncomfortably clammy as the carriage – an elaborate contraption that might or might not have been a pumpkin last night – and the accompanying liveried riders move away from Clarence House and on to The Mall.

The noise is deafening.

If I thought the past few months of doing royal engagements prepared me for this, I was sorely mistaken. Turns out that those events – even my first away day in Wales and my first tour to Ireland – were nothing compared to this.

The people stand twenty- or thirty-thick on both sides of the streets. They're waving posters and banners, little flags and bunches of flowers, and they're shouting my name as our carriage drives by. It all happens so fast that I can barely make out anything and for a moment, I just stare at my surroundings.

"Should we wave?" mutters Dad by my side, apparently as dumbstruck as I am.

"It might be a good idea," I murmur back.

When I raise my hand to wave, the cheering grows even louder.

"This is surreal," I whisper through my smile.

"Utterly so," Dad confirms quietly. Experimentally, he waves as well and while it doesn't garner the same reaction my wave did, there are some cheers and whistles to acknowledge it.

I have no idea how long the carriage ride to St. Paul's Cathedral actually takes. I just smile and wave and smile some more and when Dad takes my free hand halfway through, I grab it so tightly that it probably hurts. He, for his parts, doesn't even wince.

"It's like Alice Through the Rabbit Hole," I remark, my voice veering between awe and disbelief as we pass through Trafalgar Square, which is a teeming mass of people. Even the famous lions have disappeared beneath the spectators who climbed on them for a better view.

"It's certainly a once in a lifetime experience," Dad agrees. "Or, I guess, twice in a lifetime, if we count the eventual day of Ken's and your coronation."

Um… what?

With the cameras of the world on me, I only just manage to keep the horrified look from my face. Dad, noticing how his remark threw me, pats my hand gently. "Never mind me. Forget I said anything."

And for once, I actually do.

In fact, I try not to think of anything at all as we continue driving along Strand. I just smile and wave, keeping my thoughts as detached as possible. It's not like I can wrap my mind around what is happening here anyway, so I might as well just give up on it. It's so surreal!

I don't snap out of my dreamlike state until the four white horses draw the carriage around the final bend and St Paul's Cathedral comes into view.

"The big white church," I murmur to myself.

Dad leans closer to me. "Come again?"

I shake my head and smile. "Nothing. All good."

He studies my face for a moment, before mirroring my smile. "Okay then. Are you ready to go inside or should I take the reins of this carriage and we make a run for it?"

That makes me laugh. "No, I think I shall go inside and get married."

"Yes, that's a sensible idea," acknowledges Dad, still with that amused twinkle. "We Blythes keep our promises after all."

"We do," I confirm, just as the carriage comes to a gentle stop. Dad squeezes my hand a last time, before turning to climb from the carriage.

Outside, the cheering and screaming have reached hitherto unimaginable levels. There are people on all sides, waving frantically and calling out my name. Above it all, the bells of the cathedral ring to welcome me.

The carriage door by my side opens to reveal Hanson, who, dressed in the fancy livery of a footman, drove with us on the back of the carriage.

"Ready, Ma'am?" he asks, smiling.

I take a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Go ahead then," he encourages. "Knock them dead."

"That would be rather the plot twist," I muse.

Hanson laughs, surprised. "I'd say so, yes, Ma'am."

"Well then," I continue, "which move would you suggest? Some Jiu Jitsu or better yet, some Krav Maga?"

"The only move you have to get right is to say Yes and mean it," he tells me, sincerely.

Impulsively, I reach out and take his hand. "Thank you. For everything."

"It's a pleasure, Ma'am, truly," he assures with a smile before stepping back and giving way for Dad.

Carefully climbing from the carriage, I see Persis and Lucy walking towards us. Persis immediately takes charge of my train, while Lucy holds out my bridal bouquet for me to take, all white flowers and trailing greenery.

"Have you seen the face masks?" she murmurs, leaning closer.

I blink. "Face masks?" For a moment, I think I have misheard her over the noise.

"They're wearing masks with Ken's and your face on it," Lucy hisses. "Are we quite sure they're sane? Have these people been vetted?"

"I think we'll be fine," I promise her, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"We will be. It's them I'm worried about," she mutters with a doubtful look at the people gathered opposite the cathedral. (And when I look back, to a loud cheer, I see the face masks, too. They're… odd, to say the least.)

From behind me, Persis calls out, "Some help, Lucy?"

With a final look at the spectators, Lucy hurries to help Persis with my dress. I take the arm Dad offers me and together, we slowly ascend the stairs leading up to St. Paul's portico, my train unfolding behind me, all twelve feet of it. On top of the steps, I briefly look back and the photographers go wild in their pen. Behind them, there's cheering from the people and above us, the bells still ring out and it's for sure the single most surreal moment of my life!

Just outside the front door of the cathedral, the rest of my bridal party is gathered, marshalled expertly by Elena. As Dad and I pass, she sends them off with little pushes and they fall in line behind us. Thus, the procession takes shape, with Dad and me in front, then Persis and Lucy wrangling my train, followed by the four little bridesmaids, and the rear made up by Ashley holding the hands of both pageboys.

After having briefly greeted some of the clergy on duty today, we wait for our cue to start walking.

Dad places his hand above mine. "Are you happy?" he asks quietly.

"Yes," I whisper back. "And in a few minutes, I'll be even happier."

Because standing here, in the big white church, I remember Ken's words from earlier. The hoopla is nice and well, but the real reason we're all here is so that he and I will get married and beside that, everything else pales.

Briefly, I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. When I look back up at Dad, I feel a wave of calm wash over me.

"I'm getting married," I tell him, quietly and surely.

"Yes, you are," he confirms, smiling one of his Dad smiles.

Somewhere above our heads, the trumpets start trumpeting, and we start the long walk down the aisle.

Walking through the church, I feel very calm, but also strangely light-headed. There's a dreamlike quality to the entire day, making me feel as if I'm floating along, not quite myself and yet more myself than I've ever been.

From outside, faint cheers can still be heard, but the people inside the church sit respectfully, all eyes on me. Discreetly, I let my gaze drift over the assembled guests, but only very few people spring out at me in this sea of faces. There's royal staff, charity employees, armed forces members, clergy, politicians, international dignitaries and the royals I met last night, all lined up in rows upon rows. Many guests, I don't even know, and others, I just can't focus on right now, but some are familiar.

Near the middle of the cathedral, I spy the familiar face of Alain, who smiles a suave smile when he sees me. By his side is the gorgeous Italian model he might actually marry this time and next to her are Eric and a very pretty, very friendly-looking woman I take to be his wife. Tristan is in front of them, accompanied by his mother, his sister and the girlfriend that Seraphina could see – and wouldn't mind – sticking around.

Further in front are Pamela and my old colleagues from the party planning business as well as Simone and Harriet with the kids from the youth centre. When I wave at them discreetly, they beam and give me thumbs-ups. Not far from the kids, I spy old friends of mine from school and university and all other walks of life – Betty and Mollie, Chelsea and Megan, Seraphina and Huan, Josh and Dev – next to friends of Ken – Steve and Fiona, Hew and Toppy, Damian and Tony and, of course, Tatty, Genie and Rolly.

Up front, right by the altar, are our families. The royal family is to my right, with Owen, Leslie, Amy and Great-Aunt Tanya in the first row and the others behind them, stretching all the way back to include descendants of Edward VII. Looking at them, I see Great-Aunt Tanya nodding approvingly, Amy's face lighting up happily, Owen smiling affectionately at me and Leslie dabbing at her eyes. Without breaking stride, I bop into the tiniest of curtsies as I pass by them.

My own family sits to my left, with an empty chair next to Mum (who wipes at her own eyes discreetly) reserved for Dad and my siblings filling the first two rows. Their faces are unreservedly happy and encouraging and I draw strength from seeing them. Behind them sit my grandparents as well as Uncle Davy and Aunt Dora with their families and those Merediths who didn't marry into my immediate family. Even Aunt Mary Maria nabbed an invite, if only because she bankrolled my college stay without which I would never have met Ken.

Ken.

Slowly moving my gaze, I look at Ken, standing by the altar with Teddy and Mark. He looks at me with such tenderness and love that my heart clenches and as our eyes meet, it all suddenly clicks into place.

We're getting married!


The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Both Sides, Now' (written by Joni Mitchell, released by her in 1969).


To DogMonday:
Yes, November 30th for the previous chapter and December 1st for this one! And they did, indeed, get to the day without embarrassing hen and stag nights ;). Personally, I always find it weird to schedule those dos right before the wedding, because if there's one day you want to be rested, it's that one, right? Thus, Rilla had an early hen night back in September when her mother and sister visited, which involved a spa and good food and definitely no strippers, while Ken likely spent a hunting weekend with his friends sometime in autumn that doubled as a stag do for him. The night before the wedding, Ken and the other royals (including Amy, yes) have to entertain their foreign counterparts, but I thought Rilla would enjoy a night with her female friends and family the most. The Merediths are absolutely there for the wedding as well and yes, some of them will play a role in the ceremony proper, too.
I hope this chapter delivered with regards to information about Rilla's attire for her ceremony! I didn't want to go into too close detail to leave some room for imagination, but I did want to give you an idea of my vision for her. There are two more chapters covering the wedding, but it won't stretch to cover all the remaining chapters. (Partly because I'm no good at all at writing weddings, I'm afraid.) I have some events I want to show post-wedding, so we we'll accompany Rilla and Ken for a little bit longer yet - three chapters to be exact. (Yes, I know I said there'd be 135 in total, but I miscalculated, so you get a bonus chapter that takes us to 136 chapters overall.)
As you can probably guess with Gilbert accompanying Rilla to the church, he will indeed walk her down the aisle. I actually considered having her go alone or with Ken, for the show of equality it sends, but at the same time, I think she'd want her father by her side for that walk. I know that the couple walking together is not uncommon in, say, Scandinavia and I applaud that because I also don't like the symbolism of the bride being handed from one man to the other, but I think to Rilla it's more a case of having her father by her side for an important moment of her life. She did think to have them exclude the "Who gives this woman to this man?" question and you might have noticed that she forewent the wearing of a veil, so she did add some elements to the ceremony to assert her autonomy as an independent woman.
Actually, that Canada Tour was one if the main reasons I considered continuing this story for another one or two years! (Their first child was another.) For Rilla to go back there as a princess and tour the country together with Ken would have been a lot of fun to explore. The story felt fully told after the wedding though and I felt ready to move on, but I'm absolutely not ruling out returning for some one-shots sometime in the future. If I do, the Canada Tour will definitely feature!
Lastly, let me assure you that Owen and Leslie most definitely invited Rilla's family prior to the wedding. It just happened in the days before November 30th, so we didn't see it happen. Her family trickled in a couple of days beforehand and there were smaller meetings in the beginning, followed by a dinner for both families once everyone was gathered together. They just figured that Rilla would want some special family time on the day before the actual wedding and since the royal family did have to entertain all those other royals (whom they consider wider family as well), they spent that evening apart. That doesn't mean that no prior meetings happens though!