Page 145 of Summer of Sacrifice

“What better creature to feign sweetness, then turn around and bite you?” She made a little show of snapping her teeth.

“Gods, you’ve spent too much time with Sorscha.”

“Isn’t it strange to curse your own likeness?”

Grimm screwed up his face, not registering what she meant, and Arielle sighed as she sensed his confusion.

“You just cursed. Gods. Isn’t that a bit unnatural now that you know what you are?”

“I would say it’s less offensive, I suppose, using one’s own title as a swear.” He shrugged. “I’m not exactly a god right now, anyway.”

“Right. Well, if I have to censor my speech in your holy presence, please let me know now before I offend you and all your ilk.” She smiled wide and made for the door. “It’s almost time. I’m supposed to help Sorscha with some things before we begin. I’ll see you out there.”

“Arielle, are you happy? At Araignée?”

Her head tilted to one side, just like Gaius’ had, that smile still lingering. “Very much.”

Grimm darted forward and crushed her in another embrace until she squirmed

“I can’t breathe!” When he let go she chuckled. “You’re getting married, Grimm, not dying. You’ve married her countless times, anyway.”

“Apologies. I’m just feeling emotional, I suppose.”

“If you get nervous, just remember you’re already married to her. No pressure.” They both chuckled and she slipped out the door.

Arielle had only been gone a moment when the already gloomy room filled with shades of night, jasmine overpowering the scents of Agatha’s potions.

Nyxia appeared in all her splendour. “I cannot meddle in these mortal affairs any longer, but I did not have the opportunity to wish you well on your last wedding day. For that, I make up for it now.” Lady Death leaned in and kissed both Grimm’s cheeks. “I will see you soon, my son. Take care of our Asteria.” She was gone as quickly as she’d arrived before Grimm could even say a word.

Two quick knocks came at the door, and Tindle poked his head in. “If you’re wrinkled, I’ll murder you.”

Grimm barked a laugh as he bustled in carrying a black dahlia “Your threats are growing more sinister by the moment, Tindle.”

“It’s all of you gloomy, deathy people.” He made a motion with his hand as if he was swatting a fly. “I need a nice, long holiday on Seleste’s isle. Now, last touch,” he murmured, pinning the dahlia to Grimm’s lapel. When the dressmaker had it situated and looked up, his eyes were misty.

Grimm swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. “Thank you for everything, Tindle. I could never find the words to explain how important you are to me.”

“Oh, stuff it, prince.” Tindle sniffed. “Weddings make people so emotional. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s time,” Gaius announced from the doorway. “Let’s get you married. Again.”

Why was he so godsdamned nervous?

He followed Gaius out into the short hall, but they halted at the top of the stairs. “What is it?” Grimm asked his friend, but then he noticed the barely concealed smile. “Gaius… Tell me you didn’t let Sorscha run amok.”

“For shame!” Gaius teased. “I’m actually rather proud of our petit serpent. She listened to every word you said, save for”—he coughed—“a dance she has planned. Otherwise, I had her make one small adjustment just now, and I think you’re going to be quite pleased.”

Grimm sucked on his bottom lip, eyes narrowed at his friend. “Then why are you trying to hide that blindfold from me?”

“Just stop talking and turn around.”

AGATHA

Her gown was an absolute work of art. It was simple, a deep contrast to the one she wore to wed into the Peridot family the first time. Black silk cascaded from the thin straps at her shoulders, down to her bare feet and off into a short train. The silk bunched, ever so slightly, at her breasts—a soft wave in an otherwise fluid gown. There were no other adornments. No bells or whistles. It was simple, pure midnight elegance.

Just as on their wedding day in Autumn, she stared at herself in the mirror in disbelief that she was marrying the man who bowled her over in a tavern, a dark prince with secrets. Secrets that were hers now, and always had been.

And just as on that day, Winnie was reflected in the mirror behind her. This time, though, it was in the flesh—none of Lady Death’s birds trying to peck her to death for being in the Netherrealm—and this time, Sorscha and Seleste were there as well.

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