Chapter 15
Lucy
I’ve always felt pleasure when gazing upon fine jewelry, even when I was very small.
Ever since I can remember, I have dawdled in front of jewelry store windows because the sight of all the sparkling gems made me feel good.
I don’t know where these feelings come from, because it’s not like I was raised among diamonds and rubies.
The stones don’t elicit fond memories of home.
The only jewelry my birth mom owned were cheap bits and pieces bought in drugstores that sometimes turned her skin green.
Once I became a Barone, I was suddenly surrounded by women who wear the most beautiful necklaces, earrings, and bracelets.
Mom—my Barone mom—and her friends all wear the real thing.
Timeless, expensive pieces that shine and sparkle and elevate them to the level of princesses and queens.
At the end of the day, Mom carefully takes her jewelry off, lays it on velvet, and locks it up tight in pretty boxes.
Jewels are coveted. Protected. Desired.
They can also be traded for power.
I’m no diamond necklace in Mom’s and Dad’s eyes. That would be Ariana. But even she isn’t the crowning jewel in her family. Damiano is our prince who will one day be king. He can never be traded, offered, or sold.
Every time I catch sight of the ring Andreas pushed onto my finger, panic slams through me, blaring in my ears like an airhorn.
I’m going to marry Andreas Montoni. I’m going to let him undress me, touch me, have my unwilling body, while I pretend I like it.
All the while, I’ll be aching for Damiano, and he’ll be consumed by furious jealousy.
We’re both going to be miserable for the rest of our lives.
“Lucy, pay attention. The satin or the lace?”
My head snaps up. I’m sitting on a pristine white sofa in a brightly lit shop that’s filled with racks of enormous, puffy white dresses. A shop girl is holding up a draped satin gown in one hand, and a lace gown with a mermaid skirt in the other.
“The satin,” I say.
Mom shakes her head. “The lace. It’s more traditional. Go and try it on.”
Why did she even ask me? I get up from the sofa and go with the shop girl to try on the dress that Mom prefers.
It has a tight bodice and sleeves that make me feel suffocated, and fussy, itchy lace around the neckline.
I emerge from the changing room and stand before Mom and Ariana, waiting for their approval.
My sister is gazing off to one side as though wishing she were far, far away from here.
Mom nods. “That gown is perfect. Demure, respectful, and well-bred.”
Everything I’m not.
“What do you think, darling?” she asks me.
I open my mouth to tell her that I like it, but the words stick in my throat.
I’ve pretended to everyone that I’m happy about this marriage, and I even managed to smile when Andreas pushed the horrible engagement ring onto my finger.
I don’t have it in me to feign happiness with this horrible dress.
“I hate it.”
Mom’s eyes flash with anger. She longs to hurl a diatribe of sharp, angry words at me, about how I should be more grateful because she and Dad are paying for this expensive wedding, but the staff in the store will hear, and what if they tell other Malus families that the Barones came in here and caused a scene?
Mom forces a smile. “Then try the satin. If you must.”
As the assistant helps me into the satin dress, longing pierces my heart.
It’s a beautiful gown with off-the-shoulder straps and an hourglass silhouette.
A low draped bodice makes it both elegant and sexy, and the long, lustrous skirt has a daring slit.
As I stare at my reflection, I imagine myself walking down the aisle toward Damiano wearing this dress.
I can picture the glow of love in his face as he watches me draw closer and closer and hear the music swelling around us.
The assistant meets my gaze in the mirror. “You love this one, don’t you? I can tell. This is the happiest you’ve looked the whole time you’ve been here.”
I stroke the lustrous fabric. “It’s a dress to wear to marry the man of my dreams.”
She beams at me. “Your husband-to-be is a lucky man.”
I’m still dreaming about Damiano when I step out of the changing room to show Mom.
It takes her a fraction of a second to shake her head.
“All wrong. Completely improper. No daughter of mine is going to have that low of a neckline on her wedding day, and that’s an indecent amount of leg for a bride to show. ”
I look down at myself and then back up at her. “Mom, it’s not like I have that much cleavage showing, and when I reach the altar, I’ll make sure I stand so that the slit is barely open.”
Just let me have this, I beg her silently.
I won’t be marrying Damiano, but I’ve already set my heart on him seeing me in this dress.
He’s to be one of the groomsmen, and with him at the altar, I’ll be able to pretend for as long as it takes to walk down the aisle that I’m marrying him.
At least I’ll get to see his face when he sees me in this dress, even if I’ll be promising myself to Andreas.
My protests fall on deaf ears. Mom turns to the assistant. “No cleavage. No slits. My daughters are traditional, virginal brides. Not a pair of whores.”
The assistant turns an embarrassed shade of red, and Mom realizes she’s let her nasty temper show in public. She quickly smothers her fury with a smile. “I apologize for my language. It’s a stressful time for us, planning two weddings. Lucy, try on the lace gown again. Now.”
Defeated, I follow the assistant back to the changing room.
I hate the lace gown even more the second time.
Maybe I could find a compromise between the tight, stuffy dress and the sexy satin one, but what would be the point?
I could wear the most beautiful gown in the world, but I’ll still be marrying Andreas.
By the time I’ve taken the hateful lace dress off and emerged from the changing room, Mom has put a down payment on it, and that’s that.
Mom turns to my sister, who hasn’t said a word the past ninety minutes. “We may as well have you try on a few dresses as well, Ariana.”
“Yes, Mom,” she says automatically.
“I’ll select a few options for you. You may accompany me if you wish.”
Mom crosses the room to a wall of dresses, but Ariana stays where she is on the sofa. It’s been decided that I will marry before Ariana. I suppose Mom and Dad trust me less than they trust my sister, and they want to get my wedding out of the way.
Ariana parades before us in a succession of wedding gowns. Mom orders her to turn left, turn right, do a twirl, and Ariana joylessly obeys. Mom smiles, and her eyes glow. She’s like a doll Mom is playing dress-up with.
Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. “I know you don’t give a damn about me, but you love Ariana. Doesn’t it bother you that she’s miserable?”
“Of course she’s not miserable,” Mom replies, and calls out to Ariana, “I’m not sure about all that beading on you, darling.”
“Why don’t you look at your daughter? Really look at her. She’s miserable.”
Mom spares Ariana’s face the briefest glance, and her lips thin in what might be dismay. Even she can’t deny how unhappy Ariana looks. “Every bride has a certain amount of nerves. You’re happy to be marrying Cristiano, aren’t you, Ariana?”
“Yes, Mom,” Ariana says quietly.
Mom gives a nod of satisfaction. “Good girl. Let’s see you in the tulle again.”
Nearly two hours later, Mom has narrowed Ariana’s potential wedding dresses down to four that have a full tulle skirt, but she hasn’t decided which one.
While Mom talks to the salesperson about meeting with the designer for a longer consultation, I turn to Ariana beside me on the sofa.
“Are you okay?”
Away from Mom, Ariana doesn’t bother to pretend, and she replies flatly, “Of course I’m not okay.”
“I’m sorry this is so hard for you.”
“I don’t need sympathy from someone who fucks her own brother.”
I was expecting her to say something like that, and it doesn’t deter me from my point. “If you don’t want to marry Cristiano, then you should say something to Mom and Dad. I’m being punished and forced to marry Andreas, but you’ve never done anything wrong.”
Ariana gives a short bark of laughter. “Andreas is such an idiot, and you’re going to be married to him for the rest of your life.”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
“I’ll take my pleasures where I can find them.” She regards me with cold eyes. “I never breathed a word about you and Damiano to anyone. I think you’re both disgusting, but I kept my mouth shut.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”
Mom is still in deep conversation with the salesperson and shows no sign that she’ll be finished anytime soon. “If you wanted to keep riding horses after you’re married, I’m sure Cristiano won’t stop you. If you’re not ready for children, take birth control. Secretly, if you have to. I’m going to.”
It’s a wife’s duty to give her husband her body, but that doesn’t mean I’ll pretend to enjoy it, and I’m not having his children.
There’s almost no divorce in our world, but if Andreas thinks I’m barren, there’s a slim chance he’ll eventually get rid of me.
But knowing my luck, he’ll suggest we adopt instead, like Mom and Dad did.
Ariana gives me an incredulous look. “Horses and getting pregnant? You really think that’s what I’m upset about?”
“Isn’t it?”
“You have no idea about anything, Lucy. Keeping the peace in that house was a full-time job. A job you made so much harder. Not you and Damiano. You, Lucy. You’re always provoking Mom and talking back to Dad.
Whenever you’ve angered them, I’ve been the one to placate them.
If Mom and Dad are angry, I’m the one who suffers. You’re so selfish.”
“How are you the one who suffers?” I ask incredulously.