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That earns a laugh from me. When this is all over, I hope she and I can form some sort of friendship.
Cat directs me into the bathroom to primp for my wedding. I never expected the nervousness that bubbles up while they get me ready. It’s not nervousness over getting married; Essos and I have been married, and we both consider this a ridiculous technicality. But there’s still something thrilling about walking down the aisle to be joined with the person you love with your entire existence.
The dress that Cat picked for me would have been fine if I weren’t nearly five months pregnant. It’s tighter than anticipated in the breasts, making me explode out of the sweetheart neckline. There’s a gentle dip between them covered by lace floral appliques.
The empire waist with a full tulle skirt makes the bump less noticeable, and the off-the-shoulder sheer sleeves make me feel like I belong in some gothic romance.
The tears in Cat’s eyes are of joy this time instead of sorrow. She will not be leading me to Galen to possibly lose my life. Instead, I’m wedding my true love. The man I am meant to be with.
“What do you want to do with your hair?” Helene asks, combing out my wet strands.
“She’s going to say she doesn’t care,” Zara hedges. She’s been quiet, still focusing on our chatter, but I can tell she’s torn about something. She’s got a book in her lap, and I recognize it as the tome that I was reading when Octavia spilled her love story.
“Did you know about Lairus?” I ask Callie, dodging the question of my hair.
“Don’t answer her,” Helene jumps in. “She owes me an answer first.”
I roll my eyes, unable to keep my reaction invisible. Helene smacks the back of my head, glaring at me until I answer her. “Leave it down.”
“To hide your hickeys? I count one, two…and three,” Helene teases, poking each one as she goes.
I swat her hand, delighted by the audible smacking sound it makes. “You’re a brat. If you already had an answer, why bother asking?” I snap.
“Because making you focus on the wedding makes this whole thing more fun,” Helene tells me.
“That’s not true, because I’ve been planning this wedding for a week. But it would be nice if you did enjoy this morning.” Cat has a touch of hurt in her voice.
I spin around to face these women who are trying to help get me through this week. I will not take them for granted even remotely.
“I’m sorry. Iamenjoying this morning. I’ll do better about showing it. I just…” I look around the room, which still has evidence of the garden I made last night. “I’m afraid that this is where my story is meant to end again.”
I haven’t even expressed this fear—that fate does hate me—to Essos. Not specifically Sybil and Estelle, who I consider family after all we’ve been through together, but the larger design of fate. I know Posey does for sure, but the idea that I might not get tomorrow weighs heavily on my mind.
“My gods, goddess, I want to slap you,” Helene huffs. She conjures a chair and drops into it. “If you think a single one of us is going to let you dieagain, you’re very, very wrong.”
“I know. I trust you all. I just don’t trust that the wedding will happen. I’m terrified of having the rug pulled out from under me. It’s been one fight after the other for months,” I explain.
“Forgive me, because I’m new to the gods and the goddesses and the whole dynamic around here, but I do know one thing. I know that Essos will burn this world down before he lets anything happen to you again.” Cat’s words ring true, and my hormones take hold and make me want to cry.
“Can I see him?” I ask, a little mad at myself for giving up this girl time, but what is a few moments when you have eternity? I could say the same about my desperate need to see Essos, but I need him here—I need him to soothe the frayed edges of my nerves.
Helene twists the shell on the chain around her neck three times. No one answers before the door swings open, revealing Essos. He stops short, not bothering to glance at the others, and gapes at me, his mouth opening before he closes it again without saying anything.
“Can we have the room?” he asks, not bothering to wait for an answer before he is by my side.
“How did you get here so fast?” I ask as my friends clear out, leaving us alone in my dressing room.
“I’m never far from you, love. What’s wrong?” He moves a tendril of hair back from my face, twisting it around his finger as he does.
“I just wanted to see you. I just wanted to hold you. I’m terrified that this wedding will go the way of the last one.”
He tugs me to his chest, one hand cupping the back of my neck. “Do you plan to stab your groom in the heart this time?”
I lean back, resting my chin on his chest. “To be fair, I didn’t start that wedding with the thought that I would stab him. Circumstances just aligned.”
“Well, I have no intention of giving you a reason to stab me in the heart.” He waits a beat, and when I don’t respond, he continues. “Do you want to tell me what this is really about?”
“This is about how afraid I am that we’re entering the part of the story when the hero and heroine are torn asunder and have to fight to get each other back. I’m afraid that’s just our story now.”
