Page 96
Prisca smirked. “You know, I am.”
Madinia looked like a cat who’d been dunked in a barrel of cold water. But her hands moved to the back of her tunic, and she pulled it over her head, further jostling the flower crown. I would’ve offered to help, but shelikely would have snarled.
Her leather leggings were gone a moment later, and she reached for the dress Telean had designed for her, completely unconcerned by her nudity.
If I looked as incredible as Madinia did while naked, I would be unconcerned too.
Prisca’s mouth curved into a full-fledged grin. And then she reached for her own gown.
I held out my hand, and she gave me the gown to hold.
I didn’t know how Telean had accomplished it, but she’d managed to ensure the material matched the amber of Prisca’s eyes.
Prisca dropped her robe, displaying the glimmering bronze lace she wore beneath. “Well, well, well,” Madinia said, voice dripping with amusement.
Prisca’s cheeks reddened, but she winked at me as I held the dress for her to step into.
I stared hopelessly at the back of it. Even as a trained seamstress, I would need a moment to understand how the ribbons interconnected to hold the dress in place.
“Let me,” Madinia said, and for once, her voice was soft.
I stepped back as Madinia easily discerned which ribbon needed to cross in each place. The dress glowed, cascading down and clinging gently to Prisca’s form. The bodice, adorned with tiny, iridescent jewels, sparkled in an elaborate, swirling pattern. The neckline dipped low, while the gauzy layers of the skirt fluttered with her every step, falling in gentle, undulating folds to the floor.
Prisca turned, and I surveyed the back of the dress.It was daringly bare, save for the intricate ribbons that crisscrossed over her skin. Those ribbons played a tantalizing game of both highlighting and concealing, adding an element of mystique to the overall design.
It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen.
Prisca wrapped her arm around each of us. It occurred to me now that other than Telean, no older women were here on this joyful day. No one to pass down wisdom about marriage or life or love.
All three of us were motherless. Was it easier for Madinia, who’d never had a mother? Or easier for me, who at least had my memories? Or perhaps it was easier for Prisca, who could mask her sorrow with rage at the only mother she’d known before she’d learned the truth.
Pushing the thoughts from my mind, I studied our reflection. We had each other. Even Madinia had suppressed her instincts to shove everyone away. At least for today.
Prisca’s thoughts seemed to be similar to mine, because her eyes met Madinia’s in the mirror. “I’m not sorry that you care, Madinia. Because when someone like you takes an interest…worlds change.”
Madinia sighed. Then she pushed a curl away from Prisca’s face and fussed with her hair. “You look breathtaking,” she declared. “Now, go marry that possessive fae before he comes in here and drags you out.”
Prisca laughed, and together, we walked out of the room. Outside, Demos and Tibris waited in the hall, both of them wearing perfectly fitting pants and jackets, theirhair neatly combed. Demos… When I caught sight of him, my breath caught. I attempted to hide it with a cough, and Madinia gave me a knowing look.
Both of Prisca’s brothers held out an arm, and she stood between them, linking her arms with each of theirs.
Leaning over, I wiped the fresh tears from her face.
My eyes met Demos’s. His gaze slowly traveled from my feet, up the length of my gauzy dress, to the tops of my breasts, and lingered on my painted mouth. Finally, it reached my flower crown. His lips twitched.
I sent him a killing look and his smile widened, but he didn’t say a word.
Madinia went first, and I followed her along the hall and down a set of long, sprawling stairs. The doors at the bottom of the staircase had been flung open, and we stepped out and into the waiting carriage.
Prisca and Lorian had asked for only one thing—that their ceremony be in the forest, where they had spent so much time soon after they’d met.
All of us were quiet as the carriage left the city gates. Prisca seemed both nervous and oddly peaceful, her hands trembling while her eyes were calm.
Finally, the carriage stopped, and Madinia slid out.
I leaned over, squeezing Prisca’s hand. “I love you.”
She gave me a trembling smile. “I love you too.”
Madinia looked like a cat who’d been dunked in a barrel of cold water. But her hands moved to the back of her tunic, and she pulled it over her head, further jostling the flower crown. I would’ve offered to help, but shelikely would have snarled.
Her leather leggings were gone a moment later, and she reached for the dress Telean had designed for her, completely unconcerned by her nudity.
If I looked as incredible as Madinia did while naked, I would be unconcerned too.
Prisca’s mouth curved into a full-fledged grin. And then she reached for her own gown.
I held out my hand, and she gave me the gown to hold.
I didn’t know how Telean had accomplished it, but she’d managed to ensure the material matched the amber of Prisca’s eyes.
Prisca dropped her robe, displaying the glimmering bronze lace she wore beneath. “Well, well, well,” Madinia said, voice dripping with amusement.
Prisca’s cheeks reddened, but she winked at me as I held the dress for her to step into.
I stared hopelessly at the back of it. Even as a trained seamstress, I would need a moment to understand how the ribbons interconnected to hold the dress in place.
“Let me,” Madinia said, and for once, her voice was soft.
I stepped back as Madinia easily discerned which ribbon needed to cross in each place. The dress glowed, cascading down and clinging gently to Prisca’s form. The bodice, adorned with tiny, iridescent jewels, sparkled in an elaborate, swirling pattern. The neckline dipped low, while the gauzy layers of the skirt fluttered with her every step, falling in gentle, undulating folds to the floor.
Prisca turned, and I surveyed the back of the dress.It was daringly bare, save for the intricate ribbons that crisscrossed over her skin. Those ribbons played a tantalizing game of both highlighting and concealing, adding an element of mystique to the overall design.
It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen.
Prisca wrapped her arm around each of us. It occurred to me now that other than Telean, no older women were here on this joyful day. No one to pass down wisdom about marriage or life or love.
All three of us were motherless. Was it easier for Madinia, who’d never had a mother? Or easier for me, who at least had my memories? Or perhaps it was easier for Prisca, who could mask her sorrow with rage at the only mother she’d known before she’d learned the truth.
Pushing the thoughts from my mind, I studied our reflection. We had each other. Even Madinia had suppressed her instincts to shove everyone away. At least for today.
Prisca’s thoughts seemed to be similar to mine, because her eyes met Madinia’s in the mirror. “I’m not sorry that you care, Madinia. Because when someone like you takes an interest…worlds change.”
Madinia sighed. Then she pushed a curl away from Prisca’s face and fussed with her hair. “You look breathtaking,” she declared. “Now, go marry that possessive fae before he comes in here and drags you out.”
Prisca laughed, and together, we walked out of the room. Outside, Demos and Tibris waited in the hall, both of them wearing perfectly fitting pants and jackets, theirhair neatly combed. Demos… When I caught sight of him, my breath caught. I attempted to hide it with a cough, and Madinia gave me a knowing look.
Both of Prisca’s brothers held out an arm, and she stood between them, linking her arms with each of theirs.
Leaning over, I wiped the fresh tears from her face.
My eyes met Demos’s. His gaze slowly traveled from my feet, up the length of my gauzy dress, to the tops of my breasts, and lingered on my painted mouth. Finally, it reached my flower crown. His lips twitched.
I sent him a killing look and his smile widened, but he didn’t say a word.
Madinia went first, and I followed her along the hall and down a set of long, sprawling stairs. The doors at the bottom of the staircase had been flung open, and we stepped out and into the waiting carriage.
Prisca and Lorian had asked for only one thing—that their ceremony be in the forest, where they had spent so much time soon after they’d met.
All of us were quiet as the carriage left the city gates. Prisca seemed both nervous and oddly peaceful, her hands trembling while her eyes were calm.
Finally, the carriage stopped, and Madinia slid out.
I leaned over, squeezing Prisca’s hand. “I love you.”
She gave me a trembling smile. “I love you too.”
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