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“You heard your queen.” Eadaoin grabbed his shoulder and dragged him out. “Go downstairs, find the steward, and she’ll help you find Treasa.”
“But, my lady!”
Eadaoin tossed him out on his ear.
I shook my head, holding my hand up for my nails to be painted. “Those poor people. Hope they’ll be okay.”
“You can’t worry about such horrible things right now, Lady Ana.” Eadaoin beamed at me. “This is your big day. Nothing but smiles. I order it.”
I laughed, bringing my smile right back. “You’re right. This is my perfect day. All that matters is me and Alisdair.”
“ARE YOU READY, QUEENAna?”
I stood before the ballroom doors, listening to the hearts beating. The one in my chest, and the one in my ear.
I didn’t know why I’d been hearing a disembodied heart. There were many chances for me to ask Alisdair about it, but it wasn’t as though he could tell me because of the curse. Lumenfell brought me as many mysteries as it did joy. But one mystery had been solved that day. Did Alisdair love me? Yes. Didhe want eternity with me? Yes. And did his heart, in or out of his chest, beat for me?
I smiled listening to the slow, steady thrum.Yes.
“I’m ready.”
The guards swept the doors open, transporting me to paradise.
Starflowers drifted down from the ceiling, falling like snowflakes on the guests before disappearing just as magically. There were no chairs. Faeriken of all types and animals stood, crouched, and flew around the room—calling their love and congratulations. Not the silent, solemn affair of two great kingdoms watching a mistake, but the happy, joyous occasion of watching two people in love.
Tiny orblights strung together and wove around the rafters, chairs, and walls—twinkling like starlight. All at once, I was transported to that first night Alisdair ravaged me in the snow. I think even then I knew... that we were meant to end up here.
A sea of rose petals cradled my feet, guiding me down the path that led to my love, my Alisdair.
He was perfect, but of course he was. His long, curling hair hung loose and free. His ceremonial robes were similar to the ones he wore the day we married in Lyrica, but he looked nothing like he did on that day. Because on this one, he was smiling. No smirk or wicked grin. But a beaming, heart-breakingly beautiful smile that stopped my breath.
And his stopped in turn, when he saw me.
Eadaoin could’ve gushed the praises of my dress for an hour, and still wouldn’t have come close to how gorgeous it was.
The yellow, gossamer gown clung to every part of me, softer than a whisper and lovelier than a sunrise. A tight, beaded bodice glittered with onyx jewels, as stark and striking as the yellow-and-black spotted wings rising from my back.
I didn’t know for certain whose idea it was to turn me into a butterfly, but I wept to see myself in the mirror. Just like Eadaoin said I would.
It wasn’t that it was beautiful, or unique, or expensive. It wasn’t that the pattern of the delicate wings continued down my skirt, making it so I looked like I could take flight that very moment.
No, I cried because this dress wasme. Emiana hated yellow, and she thought butterflies were no more than nasty bugs. It’s the true me who loved and would’ve chosen such a magnificent gown for her wedding day, if such a day had ever been possible for her in more than her daydreams.
As I walked, all the well-wishes and congratulations faded, their eyes widening to behold me. All except for one.
Aydan, the little fox boy, made faces at me as I walked past, mimicking the funny ones I made to him the many times we played. Laughing, I screwed up my face right back, sending him running away cackling.
I was giggling when I stepped up to the altar, and took his hand. Alisdair pulled me up and drew me close, snapping me to his chest. Swooping down, he captured my lips—exploding suns and stars behind my eyes as our tongues tangled, caught in their unending battle dance.
Breaking away, I laughed. “I’m pretty sure the kiss is supposed to come at the end, husband.”
“Rules only apply to those too weak to break them.” He kissed me bold and free—grinning against my lips. “That’s never been me, or you.”
Foalan, our officiant, cleared his throat—forcing me to step back, though I didn’t let go of his hands. “Let us begin. One and all, we are gathered here in these hallowed halls to witness the joining of Lord Alisdair Lumenfell, and his queen...” Foalan looked to Alisdair, who nodded.
“His queen,” Foalan continued, “Shoua Callidora of Lyrica.”
My smile froze.
