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Minga stepped in, carrying a case. “For your hair, Breen, if you’d like.”
“Oh, that would be great. I never know what to do with it.”
“For not knowing, you do very well. Do you have nothing in mind?”
“Not really.”
“Well then, show me your dress, and if you’ll trust me, we’ll have at it.”
Since Minga’s hair fell in perfect dark curls, Breen gave her trust.
Later, she’d think of it as perfumed chaos. Hair and glamours or makeup tools, women stripping down without a thought as Marco continued to work.
Minga fashioned her hair, a few soft curls around her face, the restswept back with a pair of flower pins, then glided away with her case to add touches to any who wanted them.
Finally, Marco stepped back and let out a huge breath. “Okay, you can look. I hope you like it. You’ve got a lot of hair, girl.”
“At last!” Morena spun on the stool, then slapped her hands to her cheeks. “Gods, oh gods. Marco!”
“Good or bad?”
Dozens of braids rained down her back, shining with the thin ribbon. The layers of them looked like a waterfall of sunlight.
“It’s just what I wanted. No, no, it’s more.” She leaped up, threw her arms around him, then jumped back to spin. “Look how I can toss them! Thank you, a thousand thanks. Here, I have something for you.”
She took a little box from her pocket. “A gift from the bride. I hope you’ll like it, and wear it.”
“It’s… a harp, like the one Breen gave me. Like my tat. A harp pin. You didn’t have to— Hell with that—I’m glad you did. I love it, and I’m going to get out of here, get myself gorgeous, and pin this on.”
He looked around, then focused on Breen. She stood in a velvet gown of deep, rich purple that flowed nearly to her ankles. Both the hem and the wide cuffs on the long sleeves sparkled.
“Wow, you already got your gorgeous on. All of you. I got my work cut out for me if I’m going to hit even close.”
When he rushed out, Morena held out a second box. “A gift from the bride,” she said to Breen. “With a thousand thanks for giving me this day in your home with so many I love.”
Inside, Breen found a circular pendant holding a dragon symbol within.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I thought you might wear it with the dragon’s heart, your father’s ring on your chain. You’re a rider.”
“I will.” She unhooked her chain, added it. “And wear it with pride. But today’s been a gift for me, too.”
“Before we all start weeping again,” Tarryn said, “let’s get the bride into her dress.”
There was more weeping as the women helped Morena, and a little more when Sinead added the crown of flowers she and Finola had made to her head.
A bit more still along with the gasps when the bride walked downstairs. Bollocks, wearing a collar of flowers, thumped his tail in approval.
Because there wouldn’t be photos in Talamh, Breen set her tablet on the patio table, and with all of them, Bollocks included, gathered, merged power and technology to memorialize the moment.
Together, they walked through the woods toward Talamh.
“Now Breen will wait with you while we go over.” Sinead stroked Morena’s cheek. “We’ll be sure Harken’s where he’s meant to be so he doesn’t see you until your da and I walk you to him. I love you so much, my darling girl.”
“I love you.”
When they went through, Bollocks looked at Breen.
