Page 37

SYLVIE

S ylvie wiped sweat from her brow as she crossed another item off her color-coded wedding planner.

Two months into planning, and the binder had already doubled in thickness.

She'd anticipated challenges, magical weddings always came with their share of complications, but she hadn't expected Nicholas to have so many opinions.

"Absolutely not," she said without looking up from her checklist. "We are not having glitter potions as party favors."

Nicholas leaned against the counter of Moonshadow Apothecary, his amber eyes gleaming with amusement. "Why not? Nico swears they're the hit of every celebration."

"Because I've seen what happens when someone drops one. That sparkly nightmare took three cleansing rituals to remove from the café floors." Sylvie tucked a stray blonde curl behind her ear. "And I'm not having our guests trailing glitter through town for weeks."

"But they change colors with your mood," Nicholas argued, moving closer to wrap his arms around her waist from behind. "Think about it—all our guests lighting up like mood rings."

Sylvie felt his warmth against her back and leaned into it despite her exasperation. "And what happens when your uncle Ferris gets into a fight with the McNallys? The whole reception hall will look like a disco ball exploded."

The bell above the shop door jangled as Delilah stepped in, carrying an enormous portfolio of sketches. Her dark chestnut waves were tied back with green silk ribbon, and she'd tucked wildflowers behind both ears—a habit that had only intensified since she'd begun planning the floral arrangements.

"Don't let me interrupt," she said, eyeing Nicholas's arms around Sylvie with a knowing smirk. "But I need decisions on centerpieces before these moondrops go out of season."

Nicholas pressed a kiss to Sylvie's temple before releasing her. "I'll let you two handle the flower talk. I'm due at the sanctuary anyway."

"Coward," Sylvie muttered, though her eyes softened as he headed for the door.

"Love you too, Sage!" he called over his shoulder, flashing that tiger grin that still made her heart skip.

Delilah spread her portfolio across the counter as soon as Nicholas departed. "That man would agree to anything you wanted, you know."

"Except giving up on Nico's glitter potions," Sylvie grumbled, examining the flower sketches. "These are beautiful, Delilah."

"They'll do more than look pretty." Delilah ran her fingers over a drawing of intertwined moondrops and tiger lilies. "These will enhance the binding ritual. And these—" she pointed to a cluster of blue vervain and rowan berries "—will protect against any, um, unexpected magical disturbances."

Sylvie raised an eyebrow. "You've been talking to Missy."

"Everyone's talking to Missy. She cornered Rollo yesterday to discuss 'appropriate safeguards' for the ceremony." Delilah's hazel eyes sparked with golden flecks as she laughed. "Speaking of which..."

The door swung open again, and Missy Sage swept in carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle. Her silver hair was braided elaborately, and her flowing emerald dress rustled as she moved directly to Sylvie's side.

"There you are, dear. I've brought the family heirloom for your something old." She set the bundle on the counter with the reverence one might give a sleeping baby.

Sylvie eyed the package warily. "Please tell me it's not cursed."

"Not cursed." Missy unwrapped the cloth to reveal an ornate silver hair comb. "Just... particular about its wearer."

"What does that mean exactly?" Sylvie picked up the comb. It vibrated slightly in her palm, tiny amethysts winking along its edge.

Missy waved dismissively. "It merely rejects those it finds unsuitable for the Sage line. There was that unfortunate incident with your second cousin's fiancé in '87..."

"The one who lost all his hair the day before the wedding?" Delilah asked, leaning forward with interest.

"It grew back. Eventually." Missy patted the comb fondly. "But you needn't worry. It seems quite content with Nicholas. I tested it on a lock of his hair last week while he was napping on your couch."

Sylvie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counting backward from ten. When she opened them, both Delilah and Missy were watching her with identical expressions of concern.

"You're doing it again," Delilah said gently. "That breathing thing you do when you're overwhelmed."

"I'm fine," Sylvie insisted, setting the comb down carefully. "Just processing the fact that my grandmother stole my fiancé's hair to test with a semi-sentient family heirloom."

"Would you rather I'd surprised you on the wedding day?" Missy asked reasonably. "Better to know now if adjustments are needed."

Sylvie's candles flickered across the shop, responding to her surge of emotion. She took another deep breath, focusing on the scent of clove and cedar that permeated the space, grounding herself in the familiar.

"You're right," she conceded. "Thank you for thinking ahead."

Missy beamed. "That's my practical girl. Now, about the blessing circle—I've asked Hazel to join us. With her divination skills, we can ensure no temporal disturbances during the vows."

"And I've bred special protection blooms for the archway," Delilah added, flipping to another page in her portfolio. "They'll absorb any negative energies."

Looking between them, Sylvie felt a rush of gratitude warm her chest. For all the chaos of wedding planning, she wasn't doing it alone. Her candles steadied, flames burning bright and clear.

"What would I do without you all?" she asked softly.

"Probably elope," Delilah suggested with a wink. "Though Missy might track you down anyway."

"You're absolutely right I would," Missy confirmed, rewrapping the hair comb. "Now, let's discuss the binding candles. I was thinking seven points of light rather than the traditional five..."

Sylvie smiled and opened her planner to the ritual section, ready to note Missy's suggestions. The chaos would continue, but surrounded by people who loved her, and with Nicholas waiting at the end of it all, she found she didn't mind it quite so much.