Chapter 3
Ceri
Ihelped Siobhan into her dress while she chattered away about how excited she was to live in the castle, how excited she was to finally be queen so her mother would shut up about her daughter’s prospects, how excited she was to wear a crown—which she was certain would look divine nestled in her lavender hair.
Eventually, as I laced up the back of her dress, my mind wandered, unable to keep up with her.
The faerie was getting married today. To the High Prince of Fairwitch Isle.
She had a whole new life ahead of her, a new home, new responsibilities.
I gazed out the window to the groups of people walking in the street, talking and going about their lives, and a small spark of jealousy shot through me.
Everyone seemed to be getting betrothed or married or pregnant.
Or they were opening a new business, getting a new job.
Except me. I was still working in the same dress shop my father worked in and my grandfather before him.
Caring for my father like I had since I was a little girl, trying to shelter him from the chaos that came with living in Fairwitch Isle—right next door to a sentient castle that invited a lot of trouble.
That, in and of itself, was a full-time job.
I didn’t have time for things like marriage and babies and new jobs.
Not that I minded. I loved our little business, and I loved my father—more than anything. But at thirty-five years old, sometimes I felt like I was missing out. On what? I wasn’t sure. Life, maybe?
“We missed you at my betrothal party,” Siobhan was saying.
“I wanted you to be there so you could show everyone the sketches you did of my dress. My aunt kept saying she couldn’t picture what I was describing, and it was so obnoxious.
I think she’s jealous that I’m marrying a prince while she got stuck marrying . . .”
My thoughts wandered again. I’d gotten the invitation months ago but had declined.
Betrothal parties typically went all night, and it was rude to leave before the guest of honor.
If I knew Siobhan, she’d stay as long as possible just to keep a celebration focused on her going.
I couldn’t be away from my father that long, not without him worrying himself into a frenzy.
“Ceri?” Siobhan had turned, violet eyes crinkling in concern.
I bit my lip. “I was sorry to miss it. I had so much to do here at the shop.” I kept my voice light and airy. “This business doesn’t run itself.”
I grabbed the pale green train from a hook on the wall and placed it on Siobhan’s head, then began fluffing it out behind her.
“You work harder than anyone I know. Do you ever leave your dress shop?”
I crouched, continuing to fluff out her train as it pooled across the floor. “Yes,” I said defensively. “I go to book club once a month.”
“Once a month. You leave once a month?”
“No, of course I leave more than that.” I didn’t know how I’d suddenly become the focus of this conversation, but I didn’t like it. Not when no one could understand why it was hard for me to leave.
“Just don’t let life pass you by. You’re going to blink, and one day, it’ll all be behind you, and you’ll realize how much of it you wasted on unimportant things.
Oh, and you can’t miss my official coronation after the wedding.
We have to start planning my dress. I was thinking a golden color that will match my crown. ”
I swallowed, anxiety already bubbling as I wondered how long a coronation would take and if I’d be able to leave for that long.
The last coronation I’d attended had been Cillian’s, and that had gone on for hours.
I’d had to sneak out early, and then Cillian had snuck out of his own coronation party to come find me.
We’d ended up sharing a bottle of wine on the rooftop of my dress shop, reminiscing and not talking about how everything would change moving forward.
Siobhan was staring at me, lavender brows furrowed, and I realized I’d once again let my thoughts wander.
I cleared my throat. “Are you ready to see yourself?”
The faerie sucked in a sharp breath, but she thankfully stopped talking, and I took the opportunity to turn her to face a full-length mirror. I stood beside her as she took in her dress, which fit her slender form perfectly.
We were complete opposites: me with my pale skin, wide hips, and pudgy tummy.
My thick arms and wild, curly hair that I had a hard time taming.
Siobhan was tall and slim with oak brown skin and straight lavender hair that hung down her back, glossy and not a strand out of place.
The Fair Folk were able to shift into whatever forms they wanted—many of them choosing the animal variety, but others chose more colorful options: purple hair, green skin, golden eyes.
They could make themselves look however they wanted, and I often wondered if this was Siobhan’s true form or something she’d conjured. Either way, she was stunning.
“I’m the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said through tears.
I smiled, unable to help myself, because this was the exact reaction I wanted from everyone when they saw themselves in this mirror. “You are,” I agreed.
She whirled to me suddenly, a wild look in her eyes as she searched my face. “Is this a mistake, Ceri?”
That took me aback. “W-what? Siobhan, you’re not having doubts, are you?”
My father’s words echoed in my head. Bad omen. But that was just silly. My father was far too superstitious. Dark clouds meant rain. Nothing more.
Siobhan’s hand floated to her mouth, her violet eyes wide like she couldn’t believe she’d just said that. “No. No, of course not. I think I’m feeling a little faint.”
I gestured to the back room, grabbing her arm and leading her to a couch. I bustled toward a barrel of drinking water to get her some and shoved a cup into her hand. “Drink,” I said. “I’ll come back and check on you in a little while.”
She probably just needed a moment to herself. It was a big day, after all.
I left the room, closing the door and pressing my back against it, wondering what that had been all about.
But I didn’t have long to ruminate on it because for the second time today, the door burst open, but this time it wasn’t the bride.
It was her groom. The alleged missing High Prince of Fairwitch Isle.