by Marnie Cate
“Put this on and we will fix your make up,” I said tenderly.
As she slipped into the dress, she trembled violently.
“You must gather yourself. You must be strong. You are not weak. Remember, you are a Drygen. You have raised a strong daughter, and I will save us, Mother.” Taking her hands into mine, I asked, “Did you know I had the gift?”
My mother shook her head. “No. Well, maybe. I don't know anymore. She said to never tell anyone what I suspected.”
“Who told you not to tell?”
“Miselda, the old gypsy in the caravan. She said you and your children would be taken. She gave me a potion. Every year, I have returned to her for the tonic. You never noticed me putting it in your drink, and you never seemed hurt by it.”
“You've been drugging me?”
“I've been protecting you, and now, there was no point. She will take you and your children away.”
“Don't say that,” I said softly. Was she right? Did I just hand myself a death sentence?
A loud knock on the door sounded. I zipped my mother's dress. “Sit,” I ordered, pointing to the vanity.
“Come in,” I called.
“They are ready to start, Miss?” Sofia said cheerily. “Everything looks so wonderful.”
“My mother needs some help finishing up. I will go down ahead of you,” I said, stepping back to give Sofia room. Then, I kissed my mother on the cheek and whispered, “You are wrong. She will have none of my children, and I will be free of her.” Confidently, I headed towards the door. “Don't be long, Mother,” I called over my shoulder as I left the room.
Chapter 8
As I walked down the hallway, I grew more nervous with each step. My thoughts were focused on Roger. I couldn't help thinking how angry he would be by my tardiness. I didn't see the hand until it was over my mouth and I was pulled into the study.
“Shhh,” he whispered in my ear.
Amaro. My heart quickened.
“Did you pass on my message to Jameson?” Amaro's suave voice made me tremble. He was holding me so close I knew he could hear my heart beating out of my chest.
I nodded and he released his hold on me. “I did tell him to not anger you.”
“Have you decided you want my help?” he pressed.
“No. I cannot decide today,” I forced myself to say, walking away from him.
He prowled towards me like a jungle cat hunting his prey. When he reached me, he kissed my hand, and pressed my palm onto his chest. I could feel the strong beat of his heart.
“Do you not feel my intentions to save you are genuine? You should. I cannot lie to you,” Amaro said, kissing my neck. As I fell under his trance, he broke away. “You will come to me. I can feel it. Now, go marry the mortal, but when he is kissing you, you will think of me.”
I stepped towards him, nervously wringing my hands. I longed for him to kiss me again, but he only laughed.
“Ah, ah, ah, one kiss must sustain you.” Amaro confidently flashed his seductive smile. “You will come to me when you are ready for my help.”
I frowned in disappointment. I was ready to accept his help just to feel his touch, but before I could speak, he swooped me into his arms. This time, his kiss was hungry. The electric threads of his essence caressed my skin, burning me with desire. Once again, as quickly as he had begun the kiss, he let go of me.
“Goodbye, beauty. Mark my words, you will dream of me,” he said with a dark chuckle, and then he changed into a black bird and flew out the open window.
As his touch left me, I felt a great sorrow replace his warmth. Breathing heavily, I leaned against the door, trying to compose myself. I felt the floor slip out from underneath me, and I began to fall.
“You are safe, Blanche,” Jameson said, catching me. He held me in his arms, bringing me back to reality. “Breathe slowly. I've got you.”
I clung to Jameson. The pulse of his magic fell in time with my heartbeat. I felt a tingle of electricity as he kissed my neck.
“You must tell him no right away next time. Don't fall into his trap. The Mrak are master manipulators,” he said, releasing his hold on me.
“Blanche, where are you?” The voice of my mother echoed in the hallway.
“Take me away. I won't marry him. We can hide somewhere safe,” I pleaded.
He gently cupped my face with both hands. “You will marry Roger, but I will be here to protect you always.”
The door flew open and my mother stormed into the room. When she saw Jameson, she quickly shut the door, and demanded, “What do you think you are doing? Is this who you have been sneaking around with? A guard?” My mother reproached. “Roger is pacing nervously because his bride is late.”
“I was…”
“I don't care what you do with him any other day, but not today,” she said scowling. “Fix your lipstick, Blanche. You can play whore to the guard after you say `I do'.”
“Camille, it was not like that,” Jameson said, his eyes darkening. “Amaro was here. I was helping her recover. More than anyone, you should understand what he does, and the effect he has.”
Her hand fluttered to her mouth, where she covered an audible cry.
“She is safe. Now, escort your daughter to her groom,” Jameson ordered. Pressing his lips to my cheek, he whispered, “You are beautiful. It will all work out.”
“Come along, Blanche,” my mother said, opening the door. “We will discuss this later.”
* * *
The grounds had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Trees lined the guest seating area, where hundreds of townsfolk were perched on frost-blue cushioned chairs carved out of ice. Icicles dripped from the white birch, whose leaves had been removed. While everything was elegant, I couldn't help expecting Snowystra to appear suddenly and ruin it all.
“Did you do this?” I questioned through clenched teeth.
“No, it was Snowystra,” my mother replied in an undertone.
The music began to play, announcing my arrival, and my mother linked arms with me. We began the slow march through our guests, and it was clear everyone in town had shown up, even Mae Silver, who was smiling brightly at me. I wouldn't let my hatred for her ruin my day.
At the end of the aisle, which had been lined with a powdery substance, I could see Roger beaming at me. He stood under an altar of frozen crystals and icicles covered in blue and white star-shaped flowers.
“How did you explain snow not melting in seventy-degree weather?” I asked in a hiss.
“Magic of modern technology, dear. Snow wouldn't dare melt if I told it to stay cold,” she laughed.
When we reached Roger, my mother kissed me on the cheek before placing my hand into his. I watched her as she stepped away, and then turned my attention towards the handsome man beside me.
“You are gorgeous,” he whispered.
Taking a tip from my mother's playbook, I smiled softly at him. I had seen my mother do the same thing to my father at least a hundred times. Each time, his mood elevated, and Roger was no different.
David Ward stepped up out of the shadow of the bright crystals. The portly man nodded at us and spoke. “We gather today to witness the union of Blanche Adriana Drygen and Roger Allan Kingston. This joining of their lives is a statement of the extraordinary true love they share. Today, they will promise faithful devotion and a commitment of everlasting fidelity.”
I felt my body flinch at the mention of fidelity. Today alone, I had already kissed two different immortals. Slow day, I thought with slight irritation. This marriage was a façade. Roger deserved someone who loved him. My mother had been right in calling me a whore.
“Roger, do you take Blanche to be your bride? Do you promise to cherish her, love her and commit your life to only her?” Mr. Ward's booming voice shook me from my self-deprecating thoughts.
“I do,” Roger said, squeezing my hand. The doubt washed away as I looked into his eyes. His simple gesture reminded me that I had fallen in love with him. The
heart that had never had room was suddenly overflowing.
“Blanche, do you take Roger to be your husband? Do you promise to obey, cherish and love him, and only him, until your last breath leaves your body?”
The difference in our vows wasn't lost on me. I wondered if Roger had requested the wording to be changed. They were just words, so I could agree to them, even if I knew I wouldn't be keeping them. At least he didn't request honesty.
In truth, it didn't matter what vows I was forced to make. I wanted Roger. I would promise the world if it meant he was mine. Goodbye, Jameson, I thought. I clutched Roger's hand tighter, and he beam expectantly at me. Breathlessly, I said, “I do.”
Mr. Ward handed me a box. “Blanche, with this ring you are affirming your vows. Upon placing it onto Roger's finger, you are saying goodbye to the woman you were, and will become the wife you were always meant to be.”
I slipped the silver band onto his finger, not letting my eyes break contact.
Roger took a box from his pocket. When, he began to speak, I knew he had written the vows. “Blanche, I am placing this ring on your finger. I am saying goodbye to the man I was, and will be the husband I promised you I will always be. Today, tomorrow, forever. You are mine.”
A chill ran through me. Was this all a big mistake? His declaration sounded more like a warning than a promise of marriage.
Before I could think any more about his ominous words, Mr. Ward held up our hands. “I am honored to present to you, Mr. Roger Kingston and his beautiful bride, Blanche Kingston Drygen. May their life path be full of love and happiness, today and always.” Winking at my new husband, he said, “And, Roger, you may finally kiss your bride.”
Roger dipped me back and romantically kissed me as our guests cheered. When we straightened back up, he announced, “Blanche and I request you join us for dinner and dancing in celebration of our marriage. Please make way to the reception area.” Then he leaned in and whispered to me, “Amaro has made arrangements for us to slip away early.”
I pulled away. Amaro knows Roger? “Why would he make plans for us?”
“Arnold is my business associate. Why wouldn't he?” Roger asked tersely.
I could have sworn he said `Amaro'. No, he couldn't know him. I must've been hallucinating.
“I'm sorry. I might need a bit to eat.”
“Of course, I imagine you have been nervous to wear such a revealing dress.”
“Are you not pleased?” I was confused. He had told me I looked gorgeous, and now, he was saying it was too much?
“Very. Everyone can see I have the most attractive woman, not to mention wealthiest, by my side. But, I think it would be best if I approve all your dresses in the future. We want to keep a sense of refinement. After all, there is a time and a place to flaunt your beautiful body, don't you agree?”
“Of course, darling,” I said, clenching my teeth.
He already planned on controlling me. I wondered what Snowystra's response to his commentary about her dress design would be. I felt a smug sense of satisfaction imagining how she'd exercise her anger on him. As she'd fill his lungs with her Winter, and delight in torturing him. I almost laughed as I imagined the scene. I pictured him begging for mercy, but instead of stopping, Snowystra made him a gown of his own.
“Let's make our appearance so I can slip away with you. I would like to pick up where we left off before the bird broke my window,” he said with a chuckle.
Dazzling smile, Blanche, I told myself. You are stuck with him now. Make the best of it.
* * *
The music began to play as we entered the tents. My mother had created an elegant world under the white canopies that rivaled the winter wonderland Snowystra had manufactured outside. The interior had been decorated lavishly with crystal chandeliers, tables laid with crystal glasses, gold trimmed plates and smoky grey and burgundy linens. They had spared no expense.
Guests were being served the first course of their nine-course meal. Murmurs of excitement as the plates were laid before the guests echoed to me. Roger led me towards the marble dance floor and within earshot of the jealous crowd.
All of this for a wedding, they must dine like kings and queens all the time.
Must be nice to have so much to waste.
She can't really love him. Her mother must be making her go through with this marriage.
Poor Simon, he never got over losing Blanche.
She actually looks happy. Who would expect her to fall in love?
The comments irritated me. I was going to prove them wrong. I would be happy in love forever.
As we stepped onto the dance floor, the band leader announced, “The bride and groom in their first dance.”
Roger twirled me around, leading me across the dance floor with elegance. He was an excellent dancer. As the sultry love song ended and a new one began, he guided me through the crowd. We stopped to accept the many congratulations being offered.
Much to my surprise, we received an enthusiastic greeting from the Jackson family table. Mrs. Jackson threw her arms around me, drawing me into a tight embrace. Simon quickly extended his best wishes when she finally released me.
“You are a beautiful bride, Blanche,” he said. He took my hand and patted it. “I wish you the brightest future.”
Roger narrowed his eyes at Simon. “She will have it,” he vowed tersely. Suddenly, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
I was stunned by his behavior, and when he released me, I didn't know what to say. Simon stared at Roger. His jaw clenched and unclenched. “I'm glad. Blanche deserves only the best.”
“My wife did choose the best man.” Before anyone could respond, he grabbed my hand and led me away.
Once again, Roger silenced me. I could not think of anything to say that didn't involve screaming at him. Shocked, I looked back at Simon, who had plastered a fake smile on his face. Embarrassed, I mouthed, “I'm sorry.”
Next thing I knew, we can to an abrupt halt. When I turned back around to see why we had stopped moving, I was face-to-face with Chester Veracor and Mae Silver. Not here. Not today. I didn't have it in me to be nice to her. I could barely keep myself from screaming at Roger.
“Blanche, you look wonderful. Everything is so beautiful,” Mae gushed.
She was always so nice, but she wasn't fooling me. I knew what her family thought of mine. It was their fault my mother's elemental magic was gone. Too bad for her, being Danu's pet didn't mean a long life. Her mother's untimely death last year confirmed that notion.
“Thank you. It must be a treat for you to put on a dress, and be around more refined people. I imagine your wedding will be a simple one, maybe in your old barn,” I smirked.
Mae's eyes widened in surprise while Chester frowned at me. Roger gripped my arm and said, “Thank you for coming. I hope we will receive an invitation to your upcoming nuptials.”
“Of course,” Mae promised. Her tone had lost its sweetness and her brown eyes blazed with anger.
“Chester, let's talk when I return from our honeymoon. I have more work for you,” Roger said, patting him on the back, and then leading me away at a fast pace. He pulled me behind a curtain set up to hide the dirty dishes. “You can't act like this anymore, Blanche. I don't care if you hate her. Her family is well respected, and her fiancé is quite talented. He will be a useful ally to our businesses.” He squeezed my upper arm hard.
“Let go. You will not man handle me. I will not bow down to a Silver,” I hissed, ripping myself out of his hold. His grip had left streaks of red on my arm.
Roger's eyes grew dark, and he grabbed my face roughly. “Let me be clear, Blanche. We can have a nice happy marriage where you'll act right or I will make arrangements to have you sent away to deal with your temper.” He leaned in closer, breathing in my ear. “There are places for women who do not behave.” He pulled back enough to meet my eyes. “Now, I am going to let go of you and we're going to return to our party. You'll not make any more scenes. Do y
ou understand?”
“Yes,” I said meekly, my voice in contrast to the anger building inside me.
Roger released his hold on my face. “Smile, dear,” he ordered as he guided me back to the reception.
* * *
Even though I was fuming inside, I forced myself to play the happy bride. I would not let him ever touch me like that again. Next time, I would use my magic to burn him. I'd let him have this moment, but then, I'd make sure he knew I was in control.
After we ate our meal and the cake was cut, Roger announced he was whisking me away. The crowd cheered as a driver in a silver limousine appeared.
“Enjoy your vacation, dear,” my mother said, kissing my cheek.
As I climbed into the car, I heard her mutter to Roger. Her words were muffled, except for her final comment. In a sweet but deadly voice, she said, “If you ever put your hands on my daughter again like the way you did tonight, she will be a very, very wealthy widow.”
I smiled at the cruelty in her words.
“Of course, it was a misunderstanding, Camille. I promise it will never happen again,” Roger sputtered with wide eyes. He quickly slipped in beside me.
We rode in silence as we drove out of Starten. How had I thought I was falling in love with Roger? My mind played my memories of our moments together over and over as I tried to pinpoint the moment I decided it was love. The miles gave me no answers.
“I'm sorry for overreacting,” Roger apologized softly. He gingerly took my hand into his. “Can you forgive me?”
“I will not be treated like the help. Never put your hands on me in anger again,” I snapped.
“Never. I was stupid and jealous,” he said, staring out the window.
“I didn't know you were so insecure, Roger. I agreed to marry you because I thought you were strong and confident.”
“Not because you loved me,” he said flatly. The fact his words were a statement and not a question was not lost on me.
“Love is no reason for anyone to marry. We made a business arrangement. Together, we will raise a family that will take over the businesses we grow. I'd been foolish enough to think I was falling in love with you, but I was mistaken. How naive it was to think this could be a real marriage.”