Page 65 of Beauty Reborn
Not for the reason you think—not because we livedunhappily.Only because “happily ever after” is a neat bow to tie up a tale, an ending to a thing which requires one.
In truth, we were only beginning. Each new day, each new hour, each new smile—and Andre’s smile still had a bit of whimsy in it, a bit of crooked lift on one side more than the other—we were beginning again and discovering a wide new world.
Everything began with that trip home, when Honey broke through the trees and my anxious family swarmed us. Introductions were made, and though Andre towered over my father and brother both, he bowed with such timid hope that he seemed like a child in Father’s shadow. He needn’t have worried. Father said nothing of the gold rose or the first visit to the castle, only welcomed him as his own. When he thanked him for his care of me, Andre and I both turned red.
As it was my duty to fill the silence, I announced our engagement, which Father accepted in stride, Rob tried and almost managed to smile at, and Callista seemed to take like a chicken swallowing an apple core.
Eventually came the question: “Where’s Astra?”
And then it was a heavy household for all.
At last, Rob told Andre, “I have clothes you can borrow.”
They didn’t fit, of course, being several inches short at wrists and ankles. It was like Andre had grown up overnight without informing his clothing, but it was better than the baggy velvet suit.
Father appraised the velvet with merchant eyes, admiring the rich color most of all, until he announced he knew who would purchase it. While he was in town, Rob arranged for Andre to stay with the Merrells, though Callista blanched at the idea of my beast and her fiancé sharing a roof.
“What if he maintained the appetite?” she asked.
I restrained any biting comments; losing one sister in a day was already one too many.
In the end, the arrangement worked well. According to Andre, Thomas was cheerfully welcoming—“Broad smile?” I asked. “Huge,” he said, eyes wide—and promised to arrange for Andre to take a position at the shipyard with him. It was good work for a man already acquainted with ships. Sometimes Andre would joke with me that he was crafting a replacement for his tragically sunkSea Witch.
“Would you prefer fishing?” I asked on one walk home.
Where we had once taken afternoons together, now it was evenings. I met him every day after work, and we walked the snowy path to the forest, hand in hand, breath clouding the air.
“I’m content to remain on land,” Andre said, “until my pirate queen next sets sail.”
I did have a secret voyage planned to find his mother, but it was not yet time.
After all, there was another beginning around the corner.
Everything began with our wedding. The world had melted enough for land to be tilled, and though the mornings still dawned clear and crisp, I welcomed the bite as it reminded me of white castles.
Father kissed my forehead and told me that even now, the morning of my wedding, I could change my mind. Strangely enough, that was all I needed to move forward.
He told Callista the same—because it was her wedding day as well.
When Father had first suggested we share a wedding day, I’d told Callista she could say no. It was a practical suggestion because even a modest celebration took funds to host, but I had never been one to bow to practicality. Andre and I would be happy enough to be married without a celebration at all.
When I told her as much, she snorted and said, “I’m your sister. Don’t lie to me.”
Though I wasn’t sure exactly what lie I’d told, the plans moved forward: two weddings, one day.
Callista oversaw everything, preventing me from what she termed “self-sabotage,” such as my attempt to have a plain, unembroidered wedding dress. Though she couldn’t talk me into anything so intricate as the beautiful songbirds trailing her own wedding skirt, she did convince me to add a thin pattern of roses along every hem. I finally agreed only because I thought my mother should be with me in some form on the most terrifyingly exciting day of my life.
Now I stood in that dress, and I gripped my sister’s hands, and we looked at each other with the same kind of wide-eyed wonder, both of us silently asking if maybe it wouldn’t be better to run after all because so much would change in this one day.
Or maybe it was just me.
“I thought you were in love once,” she said, surprising me. “And I was wrong. But this time is different, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “It is.”
Where there had once been a fire inside me, now there was a quiet certainty, built by afternoons in a library and evenings on a frosty path.
The Merrells did not begrudge the addition of a second wedding to their barn. The guest list was the same, after all, with all the same mouths to feed and the same priest required to officiate.
