What's gotten into me? This isn't my normal style at all, but the world needs more Eadlyn and Kile, and I felt slightly inspired, so I jumped on it. If I had written The Crown, this would be the bonus chapter right before the epilogue.

I offered to stay on the sidelines, but Kile wants me front and center, so that's where I am. Well, not the actual front row- the first four are reserved for the actual University of Kent graduates, which does not include me. I'm in the very front row reserved for spectators, stuck between General Leger (acting as my bodyguard) and Miss Marlee.

Despite Kile's insistence, I really don't want to take the spotlight off him, so I'm blending in as best I can. A simple navy dress, my least prominent tiara. A few people have noticed me in the hours we've been sitting in these extremely uncomfortable folding chairs listening to speeches and watching seniors collect diplomas, but for the most part, I fly beneath the radar. It's a rare treat, but not something I want to get used to. I like being recognized. I like being important.

Finally, we hear Kile's name over the loudspeaker. Woodwork is one of the last surnames alphabetically; we've been waiting a long time, but it's worth it to see him take the stage and accept his diploma. He's grinning like a fool, and honestly, the tasseled cap makes his hair look terrible, but I still couldn't be prouder. The last four years have been hard- after spending the first eighteen years of my life claiming I didn't want to be in a relationship, I suddenly found myself very attached to Kile Woodwork when the Selection ended. Still, I knew how important his studies were to him, and I never got in the way.

I did, however, suggest he fly back to Angeles every weekend and offer to pay for a private apartment near campus, but he declined both- the first for jet lag reasons, the second because he wanted to "experience college like everybody else". He ended up spending his weekends practicing with a local softball team and rooming with a trio of psychology majors two years younger than him.

("What did your roommates think when they found out you were engaged to the queen of Illéa, Kile?"

"They didn't believe me! We had to watch all the old TV specials before they accepted the truth."

"You could have just called me."

"I wish I had. They've been quoting my old interviews all week.")

The presenter told us not to clap or cheer- graduation is a solemn event, apparently- but to hell with it. I stand up and applaud, and it's like a switch flips. Now everyone recognizes, and they're standing up to follow my example. General Leger huffs, like I'm causing this great inconvenience, but all I see is Kile- my fiancée. Diploma in hand, a little embarrassed at all the attention, I've never been more proud.

Also, we are never doing this long-distance thing ever again.

There's just a few graduates left, a couple Wrights and Yancys and Youngs. Then they're throwing their hats, and we're clapping and cheering again, but this time we're allowed to, and I feel like my heart could burst. After, there's hundreds of graduates trying to meet up with their families and no organization to it whatsoever, but people move out of the way for me. When Kile and I meet, I crash into his arms instinctively. There's no semblance of privacy for our reunion- seconds later, his family is swarming us, turning our couple-hug into a group hug. I don't complain, even when my head somehow ends up in Josie's armpit. Kile and I will have our moment later. Until then, his arm is around my shoulder, and I can't remember the last time I was this happy.

It's a big step forward, for both of us. It's the beginning of the rest of our lives. A long road brought us here- we wouldn't be the same, wouldn't love each other as much if not for the ups and downs of our teenage years, or the long weeks and months spent apart as he studied. We had to be ready for each other, and it's taken twenty-some years and an engagement the length of a bachelor degree, but we're ready now, and I'm not willing to wait a minute longer than I have to.

Fortunately, I have reason to believe Kile's already designed a wedding chapel, and Hale's working on the dress.