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Iris ducked her head, but her smile filled the room with light. “Thank you, for being with me. For standing with me. Bruce…”
“Bruce is a lucky man. And he’d better man up and treat you right.” I wanted to sound stern, but my threats were hollow. We knew how much he loved her. We saw it every day. Bruce might never be a warrior, but he’d fight for the woman he loved, the woman carrying his child.
I glanced at the clock. It was time. “Are you ready, Iris?”
Camille leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I’ll meet you out there, babe. I have to go prepare for the ceremony.” She slipped out the door.
Hanna clapped her hands. “Iris, you look so lovely. You are happy, correct?” Her English might be stilted, but her heart was in the right place.
Iris nodded, blushing again. “I’m happy, and for once my morning sickness is taking a break. I’m probably too nervous to throw up.”
“Then, if you’re ready, I guess it’s time.”
After a few last-minute adjustments to her train and veil, I pressed the bouquet of sterling roses, white tiger lilies, and draping ivy into her hands.
“Come on, little mama. Let’s go get you married.”
We headed out of her room, and I glanced back. She and Bruce would continue to use it after they returned from their honeymoon, until their house was built, but soon it would become Hanna’s room. And Maggie would have to get used to Iris not being her primary caregiver. Yes, changes were wonderful, but they weren’t without their heartbreak.
With one last smile at the past, I turned to follow Menolly, Hanna, and Iris out the door, into Iris’s future.
Chapter 9
The crowds were buzzing with chatter as we approached the main tent. Hanna carried an umbrella in one hand, holding it over Iris’s head to ward off any stray raindrops, and with the other, she carried Iris’s train, draped over her arm. Hanna had slid into a quiet, supportive role in the family, taking to Maggie with as much love as the rest of us. And Maggie adored her.
Trenyth, the assistant to Queen Asteria, the Elfin Queen, had brought enough soldiers with him that we didn’t have to worry about guard duty and could all enjoy the wedding. They were scattered throughout our land, keeping an alert eye out for enemies.
As Iris cautiously held up the hem of her dress, making her way through the wet grass, Menolly and I took our places inside the center tent, on the canvas leading up to the central platform where the handfasting ritual would be performed. There, Camille waited, sitting on a cushioned bench that was draped with a silver cloth. Every chair in the tent was filled.
I glanced around. To the left, I saw the Triple Threat. Titania, Aeval, and Morgaine sat in the front row, along with several others from their court. Trenyth sat with them—as an official representative from Queen Asteria’s Court. Next to them sat our extended family, except for my sisters and Smoky.
Behind them were Tim and Jason, along with Chase and Sharah, and several of the other officers from the FH-CSI. And behind them were at least fifty members of the Supe Community, along with several FBHs. Iris was well loved.
On the other side were Bruce’s peeps—a huge contingent of his friends from both the pub where he’d hung out over the years and the university where he was soon to begin a full-time teaching position. He’d subbed off and on for several years and finally they offered him a full professorship. This summer, he’d start as the head of Irish Studies at the University of Washington.
In the front row, in front of Bruce’s friends, sat his family. The O’Shea leprechauns were a handsome family. All twenty of them. Bruce’s father looked to be around fifty, which meant he was extremely old in Fae years. His mother still looked young, so she’d probably married for prestige. But the pair held hands and in their shimmering green outfits looked proud as punch. Three girls sat beside them, all fairly young, but obviously related. The rest were an array of cousins and assorted aunts and uncles.
I caught my breath as the music started. Four elves who had come with Trenyth were playing “The Voice,” by Celtic Woman—two on violins, one on drums, and one—a woman—holding a microphone. They’d spent the past few weeks learning the song. The music reeled and soared as the woman began to sing, her voice echoing through the tents. Smoky stepped forward and turned, waiting. Iris had asked him to give her away, and it only seemed fitting.
As Iris entered the tent and Hanna pulled away the umbrella, the crowd gave a collective gasp as they saw her. She shone in her sparkling princess gown. Cinderella’s fairy godmother couldn’t have done as exquisite a job on choosing a wedding dress. Every move Iris made brought a glimmer to her body from the beads that shimmered as she walked. Her hair flowed to her ankles, floating on the satin that ballooned out, swaying against the underskirts that gave the dress volume.
As she stepped up to Smoky, one tendril of his hair rose and took her by the arm, wrapping securely around her elbow. She gave me a look, both frightened and wistful, and I realized that for her, this was the fulfillment of a lifetime of waiting.
Hanna, dressed in a pale silver sheath, picked up Maggie in one arm, and with the other she held a basket filled with rose petals. She looked at me, and I nodded. Swinging out onto the canvas, Hanna and Maggie slowly walked down the aisle, with Maggie tossing rose petals every which way. An unlikely flower girl, definitely, but Iris had insisted.
As they neared the halfway mark, Menolly and I took our places in front of Iris and Smoky. Shade took my arm, and Trillian took Menolly’s. The music swelled as we began our march down the aisle toward the dais where Camille stood, waiting, looking every inch a priestess.
Behind us, Iris and Smoky waited. As Menolly and I approached the raised platform, we lightly stepped up. Hanna and Maggie had veered off to take their place in the audience. Menolly and I moved to Camille’s right as Shade and Trillian took their places beside Bruce, along with another leprechaun—one of Bruce’s best buddies. His name was Grayson, if I remembered right.
Everyone turned to look at Iris and Smoky as they stood at the back of the tent. Iris was a vision—her beauty cascading off her like her golden tresses. Smoky stood tall and regal, his hair providing the perfect cushion to support her elbow.
The music dipped, then changed to a slow, sinuous beat as Smoky and Iris began the journey to the altar. The singer began a low chant that wove a hypnotic rhythm through the tent as Camille raised her arms, one hand holding a dagger, one a wand. She stood, legs slightly spread, arms reaching to the sky, waiting for them to approach.
The only sound beyond the music was the rustle of Iris’s dress and soft footsteps on the canvas. As Smoky and Iris passed by each row of chairs, the audience stood, a wave rising with their passage. I glanced at Bruce. His eyes were wide, as if he only now realized he was marrying a powerful priestess and not just the love of his life. He caught my gaze and I smiled, which seemed to reassure him.>I followed suit and we headed back to my Jeep. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I decided that the graffiti color was as pretty as the words were ugly, and that I’d take it in and have the entire car painted sparkling cherry.
As we pulled into the yard, I looked for the best way to park the car so that nobody would see the lettering on the side.
“Why don’t you park it next to my Lexus? Let me out first and then pull up so that there isn’t much space between the two. Then nobody should be able to walk by and notice for now.” She hopped out of the Jeep and I pulled in close to her car, then joined her. I stared at the cake, wondering if I should try to carry it, but then Trillian was at our side and motioned me away.
