30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
W hen the dreaded day comes, I wake before the sun.
I lay there, with my eyes closed, for hours. It’s only when Tiffy and a slew of ladies’ maids—much more than usual—arrive that I finally find the energy to rise.
Though, I wish I did not awaken. I wish I could sleep through this entire day, pretending like it’s any other.
But I can’t.
The guilt and despair that grips my chest is so strong, it’s as if my rib cage will snap under the pressure. I lift my gaze from the floor.
Tiffy cradles a white dress in her arms.
My heart thunders in my chest.
Today is my wedding day.
Today, I’ll be wed to a male that wants nothing to do with me.
I clench my jaw and grind my teeth. It’s all I can do to keep the air flowing through my lungs. I take a series of deep breaths, preparing myself for what I know will be the longest day of my life.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
It’s all too easy to feel sorry for myself. But I have no one else to blame. Though, I wish I could blame someone else. I wish I could be angry at Viridian. That I could curse his name and all he stands for.
But I can’t find it in myself to blame him for our situation.
I’m the one that ruined this day for us.
We both knew this day would come. Whether or not we wanted it to.
Still, neither of us could have known this is where we would stand when it came time to say, “I do.”
Tiffy lays the dress flat on my bed and lightly guides me into the washroom. I hold out my arms, and my ladies’ maids remove my nightgown. I step into the full tub, the hot water kissing my skin.
It’s the most sensation I’ve felt in days.
I sink lower into the tub until the water reaches my chin. I tilt my head back, so my hair is submerged. Tiffy gently pulls me up, so my scalp is above water, and begins to massage soap into my hair. While she does this, two of my other ladies’ maids scrub my arms, and two rub stones into the soles of my feet.
They finish and help me out of the tub. Once my hair is dry, Tiffy wraps me in a dressing robe and sits me down at my vanity table to style my hair.
I’ve sat here so many times before.
But I’ve never felt like this. As if I were in a waking nightmare, mindlessly going through the motions. I wish this really was a nightmare. Because if it were, then I could wake up. And none of it would be real.
“What would you like today, Miss?” Tiffy asks, running her fingers through my hair.
I shrug. “Whatever you think is best.”
Tiffy’s shoulders rise and fall with a single, deep breath. She just nods and presses her lips together. She waits a moment before separating my hair into sections. I watch her as she braids, twists, and pins hair to my head. Before I know it, delicate braids swirl and curve around my head.
Tiffy helps me to my feet, placing a small handheld mirror in my hand so I can see my reflection. The braids twist around each other and intertwine into an intricate style, while the rest of my hair hangs down my back in loose waves.
“It’s beautiful, Tiffy,” I tell her. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” She dips her head. “Come,” she says softly, leading me to my bed. “Let’s get you dressed.”
Tiffy and my ladies’ maids help me into my wedding gown. They tighten the bodice, fastening it around my waist. The adjustments the seamstresses made hug my curves in all the right places, emphasizing my figure. Then, one of my ladies’ maids places a small tiara upon my head and a lovely chiffon veil over my face.
They smooth out my train so that it elegantly flows behind me. Then Tiffy nods, giving me a look of approval. The other ladies’ maids back away, clasping their hands.
“Are you ready?” Tiffy asks, meeting my eyes.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs.
No , I want to say. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this.
But I flash her a small smile. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Tiffy takes my arm and walks with me out of my bedchamber, and down the main staircase. We move through the halls and out onto the castle grounds.
There are rows of chairs, neatly arranged between long lines of flower arrangements, already filled with people. Other than Lymseia and Myrdin, I don’t see any familiar faces. A long, bronze carpet has been rolled out between them, leading to a beautiful archway filled with red roses.
Beneath the archway, is Viridian .
My heart constricts at the sight of him.
He stands with his hands behind his back, holding his head high. He wears a fine, white brocade jacket with bronze-metal detailing, and matching pants. His clothes have been tailored perfectly to his body, highlighting his lean, muscled physique. His black hair has been combed back, but there’s still a tendril of it that hangs in front of his eyes. His gaze narrows before him, mouth pressed into a fine line.
When we approach the end of the aisle, Tiffy moves away from my side, and takes her place behind me.
The musicians waiting on the outskirts of the gathering lift their instruments when they see me. They begin to play. A light, happy piece.
It does little to lessen the weight on my shoulders.
The people gathered here straighten in their seats and turn toward the aisle.
Viridian’s tired eyes find mine.
I’m frozen in place. It takes everything I have to not turn around and run away. To not let my feet carry me all the way back to my bedchamber and lock myself inside.
At the front, sitting in the first row by Viridian, the High King’s brows tighten.
Tiffy coughs behind me.
Swallowing, I move forward.
People flash smiles at me as I pass. When I approach Lymseia, she offers me a low-spirited look. As if to say, “ I know how difficult this is for you.”
I look away and continue.
Reaching the archway, I come to a stop across from Viridian. Now, I can’t avoid his expression.
I wish he was angry with me. Gods, I even wish he hated me. That he couldn’t stand the sight of me.
Anything would be better than the lack of emotion I now see wearing down Viridian’s handsome features. The empty expression that I know I share.
We’re surrounded by people, but it feels as if we’re alone. We stand only an arm’s length from each other, yet it feels as if we’re worlds away.
Behind me, Tiffy adjusts my veil and my train. She bows to Viridian, and then she retreats down the aisle, until she’s out of sight.
My chest aches. I wish she’d stay.
I cast my eyes down at my hands. I know if I meet Viridian’s eyes, I won’t be able to maintain my composure.
The priestess of Ohesis stands before Viridian and me. I’ve never been to a temple of Ohesis, the God of Marriage and Family, but even I can tell the blush colored robes she now wears are ceremonial.
“Good afternoon to all that gather here on this beautiful day,” the priestess begins, gesturing to the crowd on both sides. “It is with great pleasure that we meet here today, for the union of our Crown Prince, and his betrothed.”
I don’t look at the priestess while she speaks. I’m drawn to Viridian, and I can’t look away. Even though it only brings me pain.
He hardens his expression, mouth tight. He looks anywhere but my direction.
“We ask that Ohesis bless this male and this female,” the priestess continues, “as they both unite under his divine grace as husband and wife. Until both partners reach Death’s embrace, they shall remain as one.”
Viridian’s expression darkens.
And a horrible truth falls over me.
There is no hope for us. We will never be happy together.
Arms outstretched with her palms facing up, the priestess smiles at us. “You may now take hands, to symbolize your partnership and commitment to one another.”
Viridian hesitates. He takes a breath, and then takes my hands, recoiling as if the mere touch of my skin burns.
Looking over his shoulder, I see the High King furrow his brow. His burnt-orange eyes flare, and the muscles in his jaw tick with dissatisfaction. But I see through his mask. Underneath, I see what he tries to hide.
Fear.
There is something Vorr fears. Something that drives this marriage. And it is not love.
That, Viridian’s demeanor makes painfully obvious.
I force myself to breathe .
Inhale.
Exhale.
The priestess continues leading the ceremony. My stomach twists into knots. She speaks of marriage, family, and the union of two souls.
But all I can think of is the darkness clawing at my chest. The guilt, and the knife it wields, carving me up inside.
I press my lips together, tightening my expression to hold back tears. If Acantha were here, she would know exactly what to say. With one embrace from my father, I would feel better. Stronger.
But Father and Acantha are not here.
I am alone, apart from my kind. Standing before a sea of noble fae that will never understand me or where I come from.
And Viridian…
The one person that I thought could bridge the gap can’t even look me in the eyes.
That is what hurts the most.
We started as strangers. But somehow, we grew to be friends. More than friends.
Now, I’ve lost him forever. And it’s all my fault.
Because I couldn’t let go. Because I couldn’t take a leap of faith.
Because I was afraid.
When I first arrived, I thought he was an arrogant, territorial fae male that only wanted to possess me. That he and I would never care for each other. That we would never overcome our differences.
If only I’d known, then, how wrong I was .
Then maybe, things between Viridian and I would be different now.
I brush away the thought. No good can come from dwelling on the past.
“Cryssa Thurdred,” the priestess says, her attention landing on me. “With Ohesis’s blessing, do you accept His Highness, the Crown Prince Viridian Avanos, future High King of all Inatia, to be your wedded husband, from this day to your last?”
Feeling the High King’s icy stare on me, I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Yes.” I nod. Then I utter those fateful words. The words that swing down upon me like an executioner’s blade. “I do.”
The priestess looks at Viridian next. “And do you, Your Highness, Crown Prince Viridian Avanos, future High King of all Inatia, with Ohesis’s blessing, accept Cryssa Thurdred to be your wedded wife, from this day to your last?”
Viridian hangs his head forward, briefly closing his eyes. I wish I could wipe away the heavy expression that I see there and ease his pain.
But I am only human, and I can’t undo what I’ve done.
“Yes,” he says at last. Still, he avoids my gaze, even as he says the words that will bind us until death. “I do.”
The priestess raises her hands. “Then by the grace of Ohesis, we pray that this union pleases him, and all of the gods. And with his divine blessing, this union is sanctified.”
Viridian turns to face the crowd. I do the same .
The audience claps. Instantly, I pick out Myrdin and Lymseia among the sea of faces. They don similar, disheartened expressions, their movements slow and labored.
Viridian takes my hand, though the motion is rigid and forced. Then, we walk down the aisle together, into the castle, and lead the crowd to the ballroom. There, we greet the guests. And when we’ve spoken to everyone, we take to the floor for our first dance.
It brings me back to the first time we danced here, in this ballroom.
He held me close then. Now, there is an uncomfortable distance between us, and we dance in silence.
What I would give, to rebuild what I’ve broken.
The dance ends, and Viridian releases me, taking a step back.
“Viridian…” I start.
But he doesn’t listen. He turns his back to me and walks away.
My feet are frozen in place. All I can seem to do is look after him.
I find the strength to move, with half a mind to drown my sorrows in fae wine. Only now, there will be no Viridian to look out for me when I do.
So, I don’t pick up a goblet when waitstaff pass me with a tray full of them.
“Cryssa!” Lymseia calls when she spots me. She advances, quickly closing the gap between us .
“What is it?” I ask. Chills trickle down my arms. I instantly know something’s not right. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes flick behind me, to someone standing at my back. Then she levels her gaze. “It’s your father.”
My heart falls.
The way she says the words tells me that something terrible will follow. When she does, it’s much worse than I could have ever imagined.
“He’s fallen ill.” Sorrow fills her expression. “It’s the mining sickness.”