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So I thought it was perfect the seat of his House was here, where it got cold(ish), and I could wear long sweater gowns that clung to my body and made my man hot and hungry (so sometimes, I didn’t wear those gowns very long before he took them off).
I stared at the Riven Sea that, miles and miles east, led to The Mystics, and as such, reminded myself how beautiful this place was, with its glittery, gray rock cliffs and that blue, blue ocean that was so clean and clear, it was a blue we didn’t even have in my old world.
I also saw Frey’s galleon, The Finnie, anchored out there.
And the Premier of Fleuridia’s ship, which was smaller than The Finnie, and strange to me, because I’d never seen anything like it. The only way to describe it was sleek and chic and rad.
There were a few other ships anchored, because our guest list had gone from around seventy-five, which was what could fit in Dalwin’s private temple, to over five hundred, which was what fit in the temple in Castledge, the large-town-almost-city just down the coast.
This was my life, this magical world filled with glitter and castles and galleons, kings and queens and dukes, flowers and hats and blue, blue seas.
In a couple of hours, I was going to be a Marchioness.
I was going to miss my friend Holly, and the Aunt Mary I knew all my life, and tons of other people and things.
But I smiled at the vista before me knowing the girls were right.
I was about to become Satrine Copeland, Marchioness of Remington, the future Duchess of Dalton.
Far more importantly, I was officially about to become Loren’s.
This world was his.
And there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
* * * *
Loren
“It’s fucking ridiculous,” Loren muttered.
“Calm down, man,” Croft ordered, but his voice was filled with amusement.
Loren seared him with a look.
Which, of course, made Croft burst with laughter.
And his other brothers besides.
“What reason could there possibly be to separate a man from his woman on the eve of their wedding?” Loren went on grumbling. “They’re madder in her world than they seemed when I visited, and they seemed unhinged when I was there.”
“It’s as if he thinks she’ll flee,” Middy said to Holt.
“I would flee, laying my eyes on this bloke,” Holt replied. “He’s a foul-tempered bastard. No one would think he’s imminently to marry one of the greatest beauties in our land.”
Loren’s brow went up and he asked dangerously, “One of?”
“Right, the greatest beauty,” Holt muttered, his lips quirking.
“Fucking hell,” Marlow whispered.
Loren turned to Marlow.
He then turned in the direction Marlow was gazing, which was out the windows.
And there she was, his father assisting as she alighted from the carriage.
Her gown was mostly white, an odd choice, but on Satrine, it was incredibly fetching. The long-sleeved top was netting stitched with the finest embroidery which made it seem like her very skin shimmered and was adorned with flowers. The skirts fell in full, gathered sheets of tule, with an underskirt in dark gray that gave it depth and made it interesting.
And on her head was a wide, graceful hat, a large rosette at the front, the brim lined and double-edged, dropping cheekily over one eye, but it was much longer in the back, dipping down like a veil. It was the most graceful, stylish hat Loren had ever seen.
Her lips were bright red.
And the wedding garland she carried draped across both palms was rife with velvety black roses that looked as if they were snipped after a rain, and there were tufts sitting amongst the blooms of something Loren didn’t know what it was, but it was webby and delicate and shimmering and ethereal.
At sight of it, he felt his chest seize.
She carried him, or how she thought of him, in their garland in her hands.
On this thought, his throat closed, something happening at his eyes, and there were cuffs on his arm and slaps on his back as his brothers left him to take their places lining the aisle opposite Cora, Circe, Idina and Maxie. The line of honor they would stride through to the altar, where Corliss and Ansley would await them and stand with them as they were wed.
The only reason he tore his gaze from her was when he felt a slight pain in his shoulder at how hard he was being gripped.
He shifted his attention to Marlow, who was gazing at him with feeling and meaning.
And his tone was gruff when he said low, “I forgot how to dream, until now, witnessing one come true for you.”
“Brother,” Loren whispered.
“Glad as fuck she makes you happy, gladder still you’re letting her.”
Then with a squeeze, his friend disappeared.
And she walked in.
They locked eyes.
It was not lost on him that his father, her mother and her sister, who had arrived with her, all came to him and touched him in different ways, murmuring their greetings and well wishes before they rushed to take their places in the temple.
