Page 79 of The Doctor and the Devil
“In truth, he planned the entire thing,” I admitted, a little chagrined.
“I don’t believe it.” Charlotte chuckled. “Are we all going to strip naked for a blood orgy and impale some priests for entertainment?”
“Laugh all you want,” I smirked. “But he was most insistent. I suppose I didn’t help matters by complaining every time he asked for my opinion on fabrics, flowers, or the guest list. He has such a romantic streak in him, I feel a bit guilty about not doing more.”
Truthfully, it had taken me some time to recover mentally after the events of the previous May, and the weeks after the downfall of the Order had been busy and dark. There was a sense of relief that we didn’t have to worry about the safety of our friends for the time being, but no one knew what would happen when King Louis found out about the Order’s demise. The court had covered up the news of the aristocrats’ deaths by blaming a random vampire gang for the violence, though the gossip from my bourgeois and commoner patients was that no one truly believed any of the stories coming out of Versailles.
For a time, we all were content to lie low and see how the dust settled. I’d gone back to the graveyard to recover the remains of the Judas silver and had it tucked away in a vault in Rafael’s—our—home. Charlotte and Daphne continued to leadles DDin the efforts to undo much of the Order’s more nefarious deeds, and they worked diligently to right a great many wrongs.
And then, as the days wore on and we found a new sort of normal, I realized how lucky I’d been—how luckywewere—to have this second chance. Admitting as much to Rafael had resulted in a bout of fevered lovemaking that ended with a marriage proposal. Not content to wait another moment, he’d begged for my hand in the throes of bliss and came apart beneath me when I’d said yes. From that evening onward, he was a whirlwind of loving motivation—determined for us to marry as soon as possible and with as much fanfare as I’d allow.
I’d stalwartly refused to let Rafael hire servants for me, especially to dress me for a wedding. It felt too intimate to have strangers come in and gawk at the fiancée of the devilish Beast of Gévaudan. By way of compromise, he enlisted Charlotte and Daphne to help, and they were only too happy with the arrangement.
Charlotte came to admire Daphne’s handiwork and wiped a tear from her eye.
“Is it that bad?” I teased.
“I’ll have you know I practiced this style for a month!” Daphne replied.
Charlotte sniffed and smiled. “She did! You should have seen it. Every lady’s maid from her household and mine walked around with the same coiffure for weeks.”
Daphne grinned and pulled me up from the chair, twirling me around to stand before the large mirror in the bedroom.
Though I wasn’t prone to vanity, I couldn’t help the catch in my breath when I saw my reflection. Daphne had swept my dark curls up into a beautiful twist on top of my head, allowing a few loose strands to frame my face. She’d pinned dozens of tiny, jeweled flowers in, which made my head sparkle beneath the candlelight.
Charlotte had overseen the design of the wedding gown, and it was sheer perfection—elegant, yet simple. The fitted bodice and flared, flowing skirts were the lightest shade of blue, like the color of sky seen through a wispy cloud. Small flowers were embroidered across the bodice and hem in shining silver thread.
For a moment, no one said anything.
“You look like a queen,” Charlotte finally blubbered, fanning her face to keep the tears from streaking her makeup.
Daphne grasped my hands and squeezed.
“Sheisa queen,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
“I look…” I struggled to find the right words that would encompass my joy and gratitude, the love for my friends, and the astonishment I felt at looking so splendid. “…pretty.”
“Pretty?” Charlotte shrieked. “Mina,chérie, you look well beyond pretty. You look enchanting, gorgeous, stunning, angelic—like perfection itself. It’s no wonder Rafael’s loved you for twenty years.”
I bit my lip to keep my emotions contained.
“I love you both,” I murmured. “Truly.”
Daphne and Charlotte threw their arms around me, and we held the embrace until Guillaume’s light knock broke the emotional silence.
“The guests are seated and waiting,” he said.
“Are you ready?” Daphne whispered.
I nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”
Guillaume led us down the hall toward the sunken greenhouse and paused, waiting for my nod. With a steadying breath, I gripped Charlotte and Daphne’s hands, and Guillaume threw open the door.
Getting married in the greenhouse had been Rafael’s idea, and though I’d had my doubts about the practicality of it, I didn’t have the heart to relay them to him. I merely let him plan and plot, and now laughed at how wrong I’d been to doubt him.
The greenhouse was positively aglow with candlelight, and flowers trailed along every surface of the marble pathway. It looked like an enchanted fairy garden from a children’s storybook. A string quartet played heartbreakingly beautiful music off to the side, and rain delicately tapped on the glass ceiling while wedding guests murmured quietly to each other. I closed my eyes to memorize the sound. It was one of the most wonderful things I’d ever heard.
Daphne and Charlotte kissed my cheeks and found their seats with Étienne, Antoine, Laszlo, and Marguerite. I scanned the room and saw all theles DDagents in attendance, along with a few of my better-known patients. And then, Rafael stepped onto the aisle before me, and everything suddenly stopped.
