Chapter 13
Penelope
The hallways leading up to the throne room are dark with all the windows covered in drapes. Buried in the fabric are thousands of twinkling lights that sparkle like stars. It’s cute, and makes me feel like we’re outside, and obviously keeps Dahlia and her family safe given it’s still the afternoon.
As I watch the swish of Morrigan’s puffy skirt, the ruches and wave-like fabric moving with her steps, I notice the odd sparkling gem buried in the folds.
It kind of matches the twinkling in the windows.
It’s understated, elegant, and beautiful.
Our styles differ so much, I honestly thought she would choose something wretched.
Especially given my style is clearly superior to hers; at least I give a shit about my appearance.
But Morrigan looks simply divine, a true bride.
We make our way through the corridors, which are lined with a deep blue plush carpet so thick it feels like my feet are sinking into the depths of ocean.
At the throne room’s arched doorway, we pause. I’m to go in first, and Mother will accompany Morrigan down the aisle.
I open the door a creak and peer inside. The hall, though already large, has been stretched. Thank you, palace. It’s expanded itself enough to accommodate more than five hundred magicians and a handful of vampires.
Dahlia steps up beside me. With Father gone, I was intending to walk down the aisle alone, given Mother is walking Morrigan. But with what’s happened, no one is allowing either of us out of security’s sight, not even for the short walk down the aisle.
She smiles at me and holds her arm out. I slide my hand over her forearm and grin back. She looks incredible in her suit, and I won’t lie, I do feel considerably safer with her by my side.
The fact Dahlia looks dapper as fuck in a suit that could have been moulded around her body helps more than somewhat.
I push the thought away, knowing that today is it.
She’ll go back to Sangui City when tonight is over and whatever this fun was, will be done.
I flick a piece of dust off one of her lapels, and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Beautiful,” she mouths at me. My cheeks flush.
“Huh,” Mother says, looking at us. She narrows her eyes, glancing between Dahlia and me.
“What?” I say, brushing my dress down, wondering if I’ve spilt something on me.
But she’s just staring at us. She shakes her head as if coming out of a reverie and says, “Nothing. Anyway, I’ve spoken to Daria. There are dozens of guards in there, camouflagued in wedding attire. If so much as a fly misbehaves, it’ll be handled.”
I hate that we even have to discuss security at such a romantic time, but with the corpse last night and the threat of ‘Tomorrow,’ we all had to be out an hour earlier for a security briefing. Mother’s just being careful, I suppose.
“Go on now, the music has started,” she says.
I pull the door open and slip inside, closing it behind me. Together, Dahlia and I stroll up the aisle to the orchestral music.
All eyes stare at us, or maybe mostly at Dahlia. Of course, it doesn’t matter if Mother has deemed the vampires welcome, a thousand years of hatred is hard to erase overnight. But she stands tall, her eyes set on the dais in front of us where Stirling and Scarlett stand.
Stirling rubs and pulls at her hands while she stares at the door, her focus honed on the handle.
Scarlett, wearing a suit that matches my bridesmaid dress, rubs her sister’s shoulder, and Stirling relaxes, some of the stiffness easing out of her posture.
Her hair is the same as always, though it looks like she put the effort in to straighten it, her asymmetric bob pointed to perfection. She has a light coating of mascara and lip balm but nothing else. I didn’t really expect her to wear a full face of makeup though, it is Stirling, after all.
Her outfit though, is exceptional. She’s in a corset with the same sweetheart neckline as Morrigan’s dress and matching suit trousers.
Her outfit is white, but as she turns to face me, I grin.
There’s a swathe of fabric across the corset that spills down onto her trousers: two blue colours in a ruching wave.
I shake my head. They haven’t even seen each other’s outfits and they’re still matching.
Wild. Those two really are meant for each other. I’m not sure whether I want to be sick or bawl my eyes out from the cuteness. Both. Definitely both. I can’t stand it. I want a love like this.
“You’re going to be okay,” I mouth at Stirling as we reach the dais and slip into the left side to stand near our seats.
She smiles at me, but it comes out a bit too much like a grimace, an odd shade of green washing over her expression.
I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t laugh.
Today is one day I refuse to be a bitch.
The music shifts. It’s time. I’m practically giddy, hopping from foot to foot until Dahlia slips her hand into mine to make me still.
There are more than a few lords and ladies whose eyes drop to where Dahlia clasps my hand.
But they can shove their judgements up their arseholes. Nothing is going to ruin this day.
Finally, the music crescendos and then, the doors open and Morrigan and Mother appear.
There’s a chorus of shocked oohs and ahhhs and gasped smiles. I can’t help smiling so hard my jaw aches.
Stirling’s mouth falls open as she gazes at her bride. I glance between them, Morrigan wears the same awed expression as Stirling.
It’s a kind of mesmerised awe. Gods, it’s so cute. Scarlett beams next to Stirling and subtly throws glances at Quinn—who I’ve just noticed is sat a few seats behind where I’m standing. Her brother and Jacob are next to her and then Remy and Bella on the other side.
When Morrigan reaches the bottom of the dais, I hop into action, lifting her skirts to enable her to climb the short steps to meet Stirling.
Mother tiptoes up to kiss Stirling’s cheek and whispers something in her ear that makes a tear trail down her face. Stirling nods at Mother and kisses both her cheeks in return before facing Morrigan.
Mother leaves the dais and takes her place in the front row with the rest of Morrigan’s friends.
“If I never see another sight, I’ll die having gazed upon the most beautiful view in the realm,” Stirling whispers, though I’m close enough to hear.
“Gods, you absolute charmer,” Morrigan says, but she’s giggling and blushing through the makeup.
The pair of them are grinning all toothy and wide like idiots, and it’s adorable. Despite the fact there’s no natural sunshine in the throne room, their smiles light up the cavernous hall.
The officiant steps up to the pair of them and clears her throat. She’s an older woman, with chin-length grey hair and wearing a dark suit. The ceremony begins like any other wedding: a run through of the seriousness and sanctity of marriage, followed by the joys and possible trials they’ll face.
I stand quiet, listening and reflecting. Dahlia’s thumb strokes my palm. I’m not sure she realises she’s doing it. I smile to myself, enjoying the way she presses a little harder at the beginning of each stroke, and then lets it soften as she sweeps out of my palm.
“The rings, please,” the officiant says. Scarlett pulls two boxes from inside her suit jacket and hands them to her.
Stirling pushes her hair behind her ear and plucks Morrigan’s ring from the officiant’s hand.
She glances at the room before taking a quivering breath and then focuses all of her attention on my sister.
The way she looks at her makes me swoon.
It’s as though the entire world has vanished, and the only thing left is them, their rings, and their vows.
Stirling stares at her as if she is the light, and the dark, the sun, the moon and all the water in all the oceans.
And when Morrigan smiles, it’s as though Stirling were staring upon the gods themselves.
“Wow,” I breathe.
“Yeah,” Dahlia whispers back, and I wonder if it’s because she is thinking the same as I am. That I wish someone would love me so intensely. So obsessively and possessively that they would stare at me the way Stirling is Morrigan.
“Morrigan Lee,” Stirling begins. There’s only the faintest hint of a tremor in the first syllable but by the time she’s finished our surname, her tone is strong and steady and then she says…
“We fucked up.”
There’s a moment of stunned silence and then Morrigan lets out the most unladylike pig-snort giggle I’ve ever heard.
Behind me, Remy cat calls, “Strong start, Stir,” and the audience erupts into titters and mildly nervous laughter.
Stirling, charming as ever, turns to her guests. “Bear with me, folks.”
There’s a few friendly jeers and hollers, but everyone is smiling.
“I’ll start again,” Stirling says and clears her throat dramatically before winking at the crowd. “Morrigan Lee, we fucked up. But… I’m the lucky one. We so nearly lost each other, but the gods gifted me a second chance to win your heart… and another runic poker game.”
Morrigan laughs, her eyes welling with tears. “I still maintain that I won that night. I got the grimoire…”
Stirling tuts and shakes her head at Morrigan. I have to press my lips together to avoid giggling at the pair of them. This is so typical of Stirling; three seconds in, and she’s ad-libbing and off-scripting her vows.
Dahlia grins at me. She’s not tearful, but then she doesn’t know them the way I do. She hasn’t heard the squabbling these two do over dinner when they recount how they met at some dingy runic poker club lock-in.
Dahlia tilts her head and whispers, “I’ll admit, it’s cute.”
Stirling continues. “Hush. These are my vows, you get your turn in a minute. As I was saying, I was the winner… Not because of the poker, or the runes, but because I won you, Morrigan. You are the greatest prize of all.”