Chapter 7
You lean back from the table with one hand on your stomach, sated and satisfied and happy, with Carlie at your left hand, Loki to your right, and the rest of your family and tiny, tiny bridal party in the seats surrounding.
Carlie squeezes your hand. “That was the best dessert I’ve had...like, ever.” She glances across the table with a bashful smile. “No offense, Mom.”
“None taken.”
There are smaller conversations going on around the table; most notably, a soft laugh from Meg’s direction brings your attention to her interactions with your brother. She touches his arm as she responds to whatever lame joke he just cracked, and you see her smile bring out an uncharacteristic blush in his cheeks. Interesting. Perhaps you’ll have to play wingwoman for a bit at the reception tomorrow...
There’s a collective squeaking of chair legs against the floor as everyone rises to clear the table. You sidle over closer to Loki.
“Well,” he murmurs, the soft smile he wears a sure reflection of your own. “I’d say that went better than expected, no?”
“You’re telling me.” Balancing your silverware and plates in your arms, you turn to look at him, biting your lip. “I know we’re sleeping separately tonight, but do you think I could stop by your room quickly before you turn in for the night?”
“Yes, you wanted to speak to me earlier.” He cocks his head, a sliver of concern peeking through the sunny exterior. “Is everything all right? We can speak now, if you wish.”
“It can wait until after I show everyone to their rooms. I just...It’s something that—”
That’s as far as you get before someone slips up behind you and wraps a blindfold around your head. Your empty plates and still-full wineglass are lifted from your hands, and you hear on your left hand side a voice say, “Now you’re coming with us.”
A very giggly, unintimidating voice.
“Meg?” You feel her loop an arm through yours. “What—”
“You don’t mind if we borrow your fiancée for a bit, do you, Your Majesty?” Rosa chimes in on your other side.
“Borrow?”
“Just for the night.”
“We promise to bring her back in one piece.”
“As long as I’m not left standing at the altar,” he responds, grinning so widely you can practically hear the dimples, “I see no reason to complain.”
And they drag you out of the dining hall before you can get in another word.
You wake up with the sun.
The quiet of the early hour is steeped in an overwhelming sense of calmness, making you forget, if only for a moment, the excitement of the day to come. You hear a soft rustle on your left side as Carlie rolls over, burying her face more deeply into the pillow.
To your relief, Rosa and Meg and Irina’s idea of a bachelorette party turned out to be quite tame: more sleepover than night out on the town. You’re sure it’s partly because they know your taste, but also because—as you saw when you reached your chambers and they finally removed the blindfold—your sister and mother were invited last-minute.
Speaking of your mother: you hear the door swing open slowly, and she creeps in, carrying a tray loaded with a teakettle, mugs, and all the necessary accoutrements. She crosses the room on tiptoe, careful not to wake your bridesmaids as they lie unconscious on various piles of blankets and cushions heaped about the room.
When she reaches you, she sets the tray down on your lap and bends over to kiss your forehead.
You offer her a sleepy smile, and a returned kiss on the cheek. “Morning.”
“Big day, today, huh?” She settles on the edge of your bed, her voice steady and focused even as her hands and eyes are otherwise occupied “A few hours left.”
“Yeah.” She hands you a cup of tea, and you gratefully accept. “Just a few hours left.”
“I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”
She doesn’t say anything more than that, choosing instead to busy herself with another teacup. You, having half expected another ill-advised attempt to talk you out of the wedding, can only react with cautious surprise.
“Really?”
“Yes.” There’s a sadness in her smile, but not the deep bitterness you’ve come to anticipate. It seems normal. Like any other mother getting ready to give her daughter away. “Really.”
“Thank you.” You set the tray on the nightstand before pitching forward to hug her. “Thank you.”
Barely an hour later, you’re sitting in front of your dresser mirror in a plush cream robe as your wedding party bustles about, touching up details of your hair and makeup and chattering away.
“Ladies! Look what just arrived for little-Miss-(Y/N).”
“Not Miss (Y/N) for much longer!” Rosa crows.
“What? What is it?” You wait for Meg to finish evening out your eyeshadow before you open your eyes to look at the pale green envelope Irina is dangling before you.
“Found it just now, outside the door.” She hands you the letter, and then steps back to rest a hand on her hip. “He couldn’t even wait until after the wedding to start sending you love letters, huh?”
“Oh, shush.” You can’t help but smile a bit, though, and Meg takes the opportunity to add a few light sweeps of blush to the apples of your cheeks.
It’s been a while since Loki has sent you a letter like this. You run a finger back and forth across the top edge. Something about the weight of the paper, that particular shade of green, your name written across the back in that familiar scrawl, it all brings you back to a time before. It makes you feel younger and more carefree than you have in a while.
It reminds you of why you fell for him in the first place.
“Sorry I’m late! My flights got all mixed up, but I spent ages playing phone tag with the ticketing agent and they finally—”
“Sa- Ruby!” You slip the unopened envelope into your pocket as you rise to meet her, all but tripping over your own two feet in your haste. “You made it.”
“Watch it, hon.” She hugs you tightly, then pulls back to look at you with a hand on either shoulder. “Can’t be messing up your hair and makeup before you’ve even put on the dress.”
You nod, blinking back tears. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“How could I miss it? You sent so many plus ones, I’ve got my sister and my fiancée and her sister in tow.”
“Well, I cannot wait to meet the actual Sapphire Georgas.” You give her a wink, and she hip-checks you with a laugh in return. “Have you seen the others yet? I taped off some rows for you all and your guests in the main room.”
“I’m honored,” she teases. Ruby seems so much happier than you remember—she was always perky, of course, but leaving of the constraints of the palace and her parents seems to have done her a world of good. There’s a lightness, an ease about her that you hadn’t realized she was missing. “Going back to the dress, though, is this it?” She makes her way to the bed.
“Yes and we should start getting her into it,” Rosa declares, coming over to give Ruby a hug of her own.
You hang your robe carefully over the back of your dresser chair before going to step into the dress, grabbing Carlie’s hand for balance. Once the dress is pulled up and properly fastened, your hair carefully checked for snags, and the veil pinned to your head, you turn back to look at the mirror.
It’s not the first time you’ve seen yourself in the dress, of course. But something about the context, about having all of your bridesmaids and your mother and sister there, about the soft definition of your makeup and the sleek curls swept back into a tasteful updo….
To be honest, it’s all a bit overwhelming.
You don’t realize how much you’re wearing your emotions on your face until Carlie pipes up, “What’s wrong?”
“What?”
“Oh, (Y/N)!” Meg tsks, leaning in to correct your eyeliner with a delicate thumb, and it’s only then you realize that you’re crying. “At least I used waterproof mascara.”
“I’m just…” You fight the urge to take in deep gulps of air, forcing yourself to breathe slowly lest you start to hyperventilate. What is going on? “I’m just so happy.”
You bite your lip, and the tears start to dry up, thank goodness. But that sense of...something still lingers.
You want to do this. Of course you want this marriage, you want this, you want him.
“I’m just happy,” you say again, this time more firmly. “I’m happy.”