Chapter 35
Wedding Bells
Stonehearth Chapel had once been an upscale restaurant, and the legacy of that still clung to it like a shroud.
The walls were made of thick slabs of stone, with huge indents carved out of the sides to allow light in.
Vines and other greenery had rampaged across the structure since then, twining themselves through the cracks between rocks in a lattice of thorny leaves.
Some of the vines sprouted colorful blooms, splashes of brightness against the bleak gray of the stone.
Today was the first I’d seen of the interior. The once-kitchen had been converted into a suite, separated from the main church. The center island had been transformed into a bifurcated mirror, and the food pantries repurposed into storage for all manner of hair and skin care products.
I picked up a bottle of something blue and sniffed the vaguely fruity fragrance.
“None of that now, you’ll get it on your dress!” Mama snatched it from my hands.
I sighed. I’d been trying to avoid looking at myself in the outfit she’d prepared for me in the center mirrors, but it drew the eye like a gauzy ivory eyesore.
It fit me, but that’s about all the dress had going for it.
Lacey fabric covered a poofy skirt that ballooned at my waist, giving off the distinct impression that I had metamorphosed into a human-mushroom hybrid underneath.
More lacey frippery muzzled me in a high collar that fanned like the hood of a frilled lizard.
The cringeworthy bodice folded dozens of fabric bows over themselves in misshapen blobs that I suspected were supposed to look delicate.
Instead, they captured crowded and clumsy.
The square shoulders on both sleeves puffed out into more lace at the wrists, which hindered the movement of my arms and itched against my skin.
Mama pulled a sheer veil over my face. “You look beautiful.” She wiped tears from the corner of her eyes.
I look like a bleached, mutant coral monster.
I smothered a laugh. “Thanks Mama.”
Luckily, Mama was uninformed, and didn’t know anything about Skinscript.
When she’d seen the glyph on my chest, she’d believed my lie, that it was just another graduation mark.
She hadn’t asked any followup questions, and I hadn’t provided any additional details.
It was no longer visible with the bralette covering it and dress fully on.
“Remember to always be patient and kind to each other.” Mama fussed over my hair. It was loose and curled, hanging down my back in honey waves. “I know this isn’t exactly what you wanted–”
“Oh, you noticed?”
“Yes, of course.” She smoothed down a frizzy curl. “But in time, your love will grow, just as mine did with your father.”
A sneaking suspicion crept in.
“Did you hear the mirror-missive I left for Papa?” I asked.
She tilted her head. “No. Was it something important?”
Staying calm was paramount. It was frowned upon to snap at your loving mother on your wedding day. I just had to breathe through the frustration and let it pass. After too long a pause, I finally said “Very.”
“There she is,” Papa boomed, appearing in the doorway. “The beautiful blushing bride! My baby girl.” He extended his elbow to me. “Are you ready?”
I gave him my most convincing saccharine smile, fumbling with the layers of lace on my way to hook my arm through his. “Sure.”
As we walked out toward the main area of the chapel, I asked in a low voice. “Why didn’t you share my message with Mama?”
He scoffed. “A bit late for that now, isn’t it?”
I nodded agreement, clamping my teeth together to prevent myself from saying something too full of fire and truth.
A slow flute and lyre melody started up as we walked down the aisle. It was lethargic, with no percussion and devoid of any meaningful harmony. The opposite of the style of music I enjoyed.
Pews were packed with people, most of whom I didn’t recognize. The repetitive lines of wooden seats aborted near the front of the chapel at a small staircase that led to a raised platform where Jessarian and a strange Priest stood.
Jessarian’s suit was an extravagant if drab affair, not a single thread daring to hang out of place.
Someone had tailored it to accentuate every hard edge he possessed, making him appear more masculine than usual.
A wide belt with an exaggerated buckle compensated for his lack of waistcoat.
Even with his best suit flattering his form, his eyes betrayed the recognizable arrogance that stalked him like a shadow.
Disinterest weakened the effect of the disingenuous smile I gave him. He returned the limp smile with one of his own, unperturbed and smug.
I can’t wait to see his expression afterwards.
We reached the stairs, and Papa slowed down as I lifted my dress’s obscenely wide hem to avoid tripping over it and falling on my face. I stepped up next to Jessarian, turning to face him.
The Priest made the holy circle sign of the Devourer and began a droning speech, which I tuned out.
Nessa and Mama were among those in the front rows as Papa joined them.
Someone had laid out a buffet table on the side of the room, decadent and rich foods covering every inch of it. A ludicrously huge layered vanilla cake sat at the center, iced with thick fondant and mayapa slices.
Ugh.
On the far end of the buffet table, Zevrial leaned against the wall, an arresting blue apron fixed around his waist. He even had a matching bowtie on, and a smoke gray suit underneath.
Barely any Skinscript was visible, only the smallest hint near his neckline.
My gaze raked over him, drinking in the sight of his barely contained physique in formal attire.
He could split a seam at any moment. I was eager for that moment, even if the look didn’t suit him at all.
His dark eyes made a similar sweep over me, one rebellious eyebrow lifting. He was probably thinking the same thing about my dress that I had thought about his suit. Neither of us belonged here.
I turned my attention back to my fiance. Jessarian puffed out his chest, like he was proud of himself for simply existing.
The Priest was winding down his ceremonial speech. More platitudes about tradition, values, and harmony.
Harmony is overrated.
“Let any objections to this union be known, or lay them to rest in the deep,” he intoned.
Showtime.
“I object!” A loud male voice cried, several gasps following in its wake as a low murmur went up from the audience.
Izaiah stood, his long formal shirt unbuttoned down to his navel for maximum dramatic effect. “Lisia is my one and only! My honey bunny! I’d rather die than let her marry this man!” He shoved an accusatory finger at Jessarian. A stunned silence blanketed the room, but only for the briefest moment.
“You lying cheating bastard!” Benji enunciated each word slowly as he rose from a few rows behind Izaiah, dressed in a flamboyant shirt covered in ribbons that made my dress look almost tame.
“You said you loved me!” He held a hand over his heart, his eyebrows pinched together with his lips pouted out.
The door to the front of the chapel boomed open as Corra threw it wide.
“Jessarian, am I nothing to you? You said you’d leave her for me!
For our child!” Corra’s voice cut above the rising cacophony of mutters from the spectators.
She was wearing what had to be her most risque dress, with a plunging neckline that almost reached the high hem at her thighs.
Playing to her audience, she let her hand drift over her belly suggestively.
I wondered if she was using her Beauty Skinscript, her silhouette was almost glowing against the sunlight from outside.
She’d hidden it under a thick beaded bracelet.
I mashed my lips together, stifling my laughter. A noise which sounded like a snort came from near the buffet table. Zevrial was seconds away from breaking character. This was too good, had they rehearsed this?
“I don’t know this woman!” Jessarian burst out, raising his hands defensively in front of himself as if to ward off evil as he stared at Corra. His shoulders squared, chin jutted out as his face turned ruddy purple.
Corra let out a distressed noise, raising a hand up to her trembling lips as if she was about to cry as she turned away. “How can you say that after everything we’ve been through?”
“What is the meaning of this?” Papa stood, gesturing around the chapel at large, fury muddying his complexion. The shock was starting to wear off, and he was mad.
That’s my cue.
I stepped forward, away from Jessarian. “I need to make a confession.” I raised my voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
“I've been in love with the caterer this whole time.” Another round of gasps erupted, and Nessa made a sound of stifled laughter. Zevrial’s face was priceless.
It had frozen somewhere between shocked disbelief and amused confusion.
Dozens of heads swivelled in his direction now, even though he hadn’t catered this event.
It was presumed guilt by his nearness to the buffet table.
That’s right, you’re part of this spectacle too.
I pressed on. “Really, it’s the mini quiches I love. They touched something deep in me. Jessarian, I’m sorry but I just can’t be with you when my heart already belongs to those crusty custards.”
Removing the engagement ring from my finger, I let it drop to the floor at his feet with a clatter. Jessarian’s eyes were saucers, jaw unhinged as he stared gobsmacked between me and the ring I’d dropped on the floor.
I threw my veil off, rushing toward the exit in a dramatic swirl of skirts before anyone had time to react. Damn this dress was cumbersome, I couldn’t move nearly fast enough. Every other step had me stumbling.
Zevrial caught up to me midway down the aisle, and then I was airborne. I clutched onto his shoulder with a gasp as he carried me bridal style out the exit. His steps were airy and unhurried, as if I was weightless. It felt oddly freeing to be held with such ease. I didn’t want to let go.
He whispered in my ear. “Don't think this means you're forgiven for not telling me about your engagement.”
Izaiah, and Benji, rushed out behind us, arguing and fighting amongst themselves to continue the dramatic performance.
The Priest looked resigned.
Papa’s booming voice followed us out. “This is outrageous! I won’t stand fo–”
Corra slammed the main door shut, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. She let out a delighted peal of laughter as we legged it out of there. We scrambled away, guffawing as we went.
“I can’t breathe,” Corra gasped, bent over as she tried to laugh and run simultaneously.
“Do you think we overdid it?” Benji asked, looking down at his shirt. Izaiah doubled up with another bout of hysterics, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.
“No, my love,” Izaiah planted a mocking kiss on Benji’s cheek. “You could never be too much for me.”
“Crusty custards?” Zevrial set me down after another minute of running, dark eyes sparkling with humor. Corra cracked up from beside us, holding his sides as she wheezed with laughter.
“Watch yourself, that’s my honey bunny,” Izaiah announced. Benji bellowed with renewed laughter.
“It was that or steamy scrambles,” I laughed, gripping armfuls of my skirt as we made our escape. We had minutes at most before someone inside the church thought to follow us.
“Eggcellent eggs,” Corra added, triggering another round of laughter.
“Plump pastries.”
“Fulfilling frittatas.”
“You guys were amazing,” my face twisted with more suppressed laughter. “But I have to get out of this petticoat.”
“You should save it as a souvenir,” Corra giggled, laughter exploding out of her as she looked at it again.
“Or burn it before we all go blind,” Izaiah suggested.
“I just hope this spreads enough confusion so my family doesn’t murder me later,” I chuckled. Everyone’s Skinscript was covered during the display, so there was no way to identify us all as Voyagers. If some of the blame for this incident landed on Jessarian and his family, all the better.
The noose around my finger was gone, and unrestrained giddy happiness overflowed in me.
We spilled back into town, intoxicated with laughter and merriment. Izaiah pointed out a pub he liked on the corner and we made our way in.
Consequences could come later.
Tonight was for celebrating with friends.
Tomorrow, we’d set sail.