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“You’re probably right,” Mercy whispers, leaning close to my ear. “I don’t want to upset you, but don’t be surprised if something happens today.”
“I won’t be surprised,” I reply dejectedly. “As long as I am married to Nikolai and everyone is safe, it will be okay.” Mercy makes a face, and I grip her arm. “Do you know something?”
“I’m being ostracized for coming, Edie,” she confesses. “My dad warned them not to do anything stupid. But …”
“But?” I ask sternly.
“Nobody can make promises aboutyourdad.”
As if to prove the point, a guard rounds the corner and eyes us suspiciously. Mercy scowls back, not intimidated by the holster under his open jacket.
“Just checking out the flowers, dude.” She pats his broad shoulder as we walk off. “Keep up the good work.”
“You have to tell Nikolai!” I walk after her.
“Don’t worry, Edie,” she replies. “I’m sure he already expects something.”
We continue into the other rooms, followed at a distance. The constant scrutiny threatens to ruin my mood, but it’s necessary if we want nothing to happen. In the kitchen, an army of cooks prepares a gigantic buffet, big enough to feed a nation. We exit through the dining area, passing numerous small tables with pristine white cloths and costly place settings of silver and crystal. Each table is adorned with a smaller version of my bouquet of chrysanthemums and pale yellow roses.
In the reception hall, metal chandeliers hang from the ceiling and cast intertwined shadows onto the stone floor below. Ivory silk drapes frame the tall windows, allowing soft sunlight to filter through. Tables adorned with lavish floral arrangements encircle the dance floor, and their strong scent mingles in the air.
By the time we round another corner, the number of guards has grown to six. Mercy stops short, and they do the same, causing two men to collide with each other, barely stopping in time.
“Mercy, this is not a game.”
“Sorry,” she tones down her smile. “I’m just in a fucked-up mood.” She takes my hand. “We better get ready to march down the aisle.”
I smile at the guards. “Please escort us back to our rooms.”
He nods, and we follow behind him.
“I appreciate you being here,” I speak softly. “But you’re the interloper, so watch your step.”
“So are you, Edie.” She frowns at the scowling guard. “Until that ring is on your finger.”
A canopy is erectedfrom the circular drive to the front door to conceal the guest from prying eyes. And perhaps bullets. I watch from a window as Nikolai greets the first guests. I recognize Popov from a distance with his thick brown beard and a large smile. He grips Nikolai’s hand in a firm handshake before the canopy conceals them. Popov has brought his own men, and they scatter in all directions like ants around the outer walls of the fort. Scanning the open surroundings makes me feel less nervous at being able to see out a great distance.
But despite all the precautions in the world, my heart hammers in my chest.
“Don’t stand so close to the window,koshka.” Dominika’s firm hand guides me away. “It will do you no good.”
But we stay at the window a moment longer and watch Zhanna exit her limo with a young man.
“Her grandson,” whispers Dominika. “Stepan. Oh, that stupid, foolish boy; he thought he was about to marry not too long ago. But his would-be bride’s sister put a stop to it. And who dares defy the will of Andrei Barinov’s wife?”
Mercy helps fasten the delicate pearl necklace, and her steady fingers work quickly. Her gaze meets mine in the mirror’s reflection, offering a comforting smile. I place my hand on thepearls and feel a closeness to a woman I’ll never remember. I quickly wipe a tear away.
“Edie, you look gorgeous,” she says.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my heart pounding against my chest.
Her dress is a deep yellow fitted in the body and full at the skirt, the same as Larissa’s. I give Mercy a hug before we step out of the bridal suite. The excitement is palpable, but so is the fear—the gnawing worry that Zakhar will somehow ruin my happiness on the most important day of my life.
“Ready?” Larissa asks as she slips her arm through mine.
I nod, swallowing hard, and hold onto Mercy’s hand. I think that maybe, just maybe, everything will work out in the end. The hugs soothe my nerves and I’m eager to go downstairs, tempted to skip down the aisle straight into Nikolai’s arms.
Anton enters the room. “It’s time, Eden Zakharovna.” He holds out his arm. “They told me that I’ll walk you down the aisle.”
