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Now I’m dressed and watching as Leontine directs the woman who did my hair to raise it higher and pick up the tendrils left along my nape. When she’s satisfied, I stand and she looks me over, walking a circle around me. I’m wearing her wedding dress altered to fit me. She’s a few inches taller than me and apart from it having to be made shorter, it is a near perfect fit. It’s simple and pretty, a white, floor-length sheath that is held together by a single pearl for a button at the back of my neck. It’s not a tight fit for which I’m grateful. I didn’t want a repeat of the feather dress my brother made me wear to that masquerade.
“Do you know the words you must say?” she asks.
“You mean the wedding vows?” She doesn’t think I’ll be writing vows, does she?
“After the marking. Dominus et Deus. My lord and my god.”
“What are you talking about?”
There’s a knock on the door and she doesn’t get a chance to answer. Instead, Leontine tells whoever it is to enter which annoys me since it’s my room, but when Angelique rushes past her, in her own pretty, yellow princess dress, her hair done with ribbons that match and I see her smiling, happy face, I can’t help but smile myself. I’ve seen her once since the incident at the pool which feels like ages ago but it’s not.
“Oh, Belle!” she exclaims, stopping just short. “You look so pretty.”
I crouch down to hug her and take what I guess is my bouquet from her. “Thank you, Angelique. Wow, I love your dress!”
She spins. “Do you think I look like a princess?”
“I think you look prettier than any princess I’ve ever seen.” I wink.
Jericho’s brother, Ezekiel, clears his throat. He’s standing in the doorway in his formal black cloak with a tux underneath. I’m glad he’s not wearing that menacing hood. I’ve only seen him a handful of times for as many minutes and as I look at him now, I think how much like Jericho he looks. The difference is in his eyes. His are both silver. Like a wolf.
“I’ve been instructed to bring the bride to the car,” he says. “Shall we?”
“Yes!” Angelique skips to his side. She’s so excited and happy and I wonder if they didn’t include her in this bringing of the bride because they know I won’t put up a fight with her here. I wouldn’t put it past Jericho or his mother. I don’t know Ezekiel, but I doubt he’d be on my side in any of this. So, I follow Angelique out and she chats to me and her uncle all the way to the car.
She’s easy with him, I see. And he’s easy with her as they talk about a world of make believe while Leontine and I watch. It’s good to see her like this. The way little girls should be. Not afraid or cautious of everything. Carefree.
I find myself smiling as we ride along, so when Ezekiel sees that smile, he winks at me, and I blink myself back to reality. I fix my features just as the Rolls Royce turns into the IVI compound and our door is opened. Ezekiel exits first, then Angelique. He helps his mother out and reaches a hand in for me to take. I am considering if I can hijack the car when he dips his head inside.
“My brother enjoys a chase,” he says casually enough that if Angelique is listening, she won’t understand. “But he definitely doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
He extends his hand to me again. I wonder if he wants to give the impression that this is somehow my choice. It doesn’t matter though. There’s only one way this is going to go.
I slip my hand into it and let him help me out. When he tucks my arm into his, I glance up at him, surprised, but don’t pull away. He only pauses for a moment to lift Angelique up on his other arm and we make our way across the courtyard and toward that small chapel where Jericho had me on my knees last night.
The courtyard is lit by what seems to be a hundred candles. Fires burn in various pits. Only men are gathered, I notice, and all of them formally dressed in their cloaks, hoods up, masked, drinking drinks.
I glimpse Angelique as she sees them and watch how she hugs her arms around her uncle’s neck.
“They’re just playing dress up,” Ezekiel tells her.
“I don’t like their dress up.”
Neither do I.
“Then don’t look, silly. Look at how pretty Isabelle looks instead,” he says with a glance toward me that I can’t quite read.
Once we’re past the men Angelique wriggles free of her uncle and comes to my side. She takes my hand and in the same moment, I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“Well, there’s the blushing bride.” It’s Carlton.
I stiffen at the sound of his voice. I don’t know why. He’s my brother, half-brother, whatever. It’s not like I’m afraid of him. And between him and the St. James family, I should know which side I’m safer on.
Leontine casts a wary glance in his direction, but Ezekiel’s look is dark. I turn to find Carlton is wearing his cloak and thankfully his mask is pushed to the top of his head.
Angelique stares at him wide-eyed and not without fear.
“Take Angelique inside,” Zeke tells his mother in a tone much like his brother’s.
