Page 35 of Point of No Return

There isn’t much privacy in the bridal suite now that everyone has filed in. A small posse of people help me step into my dress while another team adds the final touches to my hair. A tiara of diamonds sits at the crown of my head and smaller twinkling jewels glitter down the cascading waves of my hair. My veil sweeps down to the bottom of my dress, the white tulle just thin enough to see through.

The makeup team doesn’t ask about the bruising on my face, and I don’t offer any explanation, but Liv’s eyes are sad as she watches them cake a layer of white powder on. With my makeup done to perfection, the bruising around my mouth is invisible. My bright lipstick covers the mark on my mouth, and paired with the veil, I look damn near alluring.

A perfect bride.

“There’s only a few things missing."

I hear my mother’s voice behind me, and I turn away from her, glancing in the mirror. She waves the servants off as soon as the corset is tied at the top. Only Liv and two others are left, and with smiles on their faces, they watch as my mother flares my dress out behind me.

“Something borrowed, something blue,” she titters before revealing a long black box from behind her back.

She pulls a ribbon of pure azure from the box, and I smile as I realize I’ll be wearing it beneath my bustle- an old Prevyain custom. She kneels, her eyes focused as she reaches beneath my dress and attaches the ribbon below my liner.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, but then I feel her hands around my leg, sliding a soft velvet cuff up my thigh.

“Something new,” she explains before taking my hand and standing behind me. She reveals a gorgeous blue pendant, sparkling on a golden chain from inside the box, and I bow my head as she connects the chain around my neck. “This has been passed down my side of the family for decades.”

Something old- and knowing my mother, it’s an apology as well. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at me. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I say without feeling, without thinking.

She pats my hand, her manicured nails Westlan red. The red of blood. “You make a beautiful bride.”

I think most girls imagine looking beautiful on their wedding day. They marry for love, for a future. They hope they only marry once. But that day means nothing to me. It certainly isn’t this one. This day is a transaction- one of many to come. But that does little to calm my racing heart.

In just a few months- years, maybe- it won’t matter that today, I become a Benenati. Nothing is permanent. I’ve spent my entire life learning that.

“Your father is downstairs. It’s time.” I nod, and Eva adds: “Tyson is just outside.” I don’t let the surprise show on my face as she helps me down from the podium, and the others stroll out the door ahead of us. “You know what you are,” she whispers to me as she passes through the threshold. “Remember.”

I am anything they want me to be.

At the bottom of the stairs, I see Tyson richly dressed in a fine suit. When I reach him, he offers his arm, most of his weight supported by his cane. I take his shaky arm as he smiles.

“You Prevyain women have always made beautiful brides.”

My stomach churns at the implication behind his words. My people have been forced into marriages for decades, and his family is the reason for it.

I reach for the only thing I know will get a reaction, smiling prettily. “It’s a shame your wife isn’t here to see your son’s wedding. Isn’t it?” I say, letting him lead me toward the sanctuary where everyone is waiting.

He hums, walking with a haphazard gait. In no time at all, we reach the double doors leading to the ceremonial room. They’re still closed.

Dizziness still hits me in a wave as I hear the music, the chatter of the guests. The sweet perfume of the flowers, the scent of the candles flickering at every podium.

“You will do your part, won’t you, Charlotte?” Tyson croaks, and my head jerks toward him.

“I’m sorry?”

He pats my hand as the doors open and the wedding march begins. Everyone stands, and I find my father standing just inside, smiling at me sweetly.

Tyson leans closer. “I’m sure you’ll find a place in our world. Prevyain or not, you’ll be a Benenati soon enough.” He passes me off to my father, and I force a smile despite the words.

Everything passes by in a blur. Walking down the aisle, passing the bouquet off to Liv, letting go of my father’s hand, and climbing the steps until I finally stand in front of Skar. My fiancé. My husband practically.

He looks incredible. He always does, but now… Now, he’s dressed for me. His suit is perfectly cut to the lines of his body, and the traditional Westlan red is stitched into the collar and sleeves.

His mouth is just shy of a frown, just shy of a smile, as he takes my hand and helps me up the altar. My dress spills into the aisle behind me. The audience holds its breath.

“We have gathered here today in front of friends and family to celebrate the love of two people.”

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