To Drown In Icy Depths

Until death do you part

Today is the dreaded day. Yesterday a dream, today a nightmare.

I stand in front of my floor-length gold gilded mirror in my underclothes, waiting to be fitted into my wedding dress. Safira is not smiling like I would have expected her to be, she looks upset, on the verge of tears. And today she alone is not going to dress me, she has been joined by three other servant girls. One red-headed, one with hair so dark it's almost indigo, and one the blonde from the day after my sister's funeral.

All of them scampering about like rabbits, speaking in almost-whispers and with brows creased with worry. Perhaps it's worry for me, or perhaps for themselves. I myself don't know what to feel...except dread.

The indigo haired one, Corvina if I can remember correctly, deftly laces up my ivory coloured corset. Then comes the rest the dress, with it's unfurling skirts of lace, silk, satin, pearls, gold embroidery and tulle. Corvina then proceeds to smooth out all the creases with her dainty, pale hands, pulling and tucking here and there until she's satisfied.

Now it's the red-head, Skylar's turn. She twists and pins and braids my hair elegantly before stuffing it with pearls, just like Safira did a couple of days ago. I have always thought pearls were pretty, but now they could not look uglier to me. I don't voice these thoughts though, only keep my mouth shut as Safira begins to paint my lips rose pink.

She draws a small golden dot underneath my right eye, an Aurelian tradition. The scarce make-up is finished off with the thickening of my lashes with some caked black lash-paint.

Then Corvina presses the pearl-studded comb into my hair and flips the translucent veil over my face.

"Thank you," I tell them.

The three girls all curtsy gracefully and leave me in my room.

I step into the white and gold slippers laid out on the floor in front of me and put on some simple pearl earrings. Sighing, I take the opal pendant full of vow dust from my vanity and, reaching beneath my numerous skirts, tie it to the garter at the top of my thigh so that it dangles against my leg. Secure, out of view, and most importantly, safe, where no one can take it.

Now I'm ready. As ready as I'll ever be.

The wedding will take place in the Aurelian cathedral, a grand gothic church on the edge of the House grounds. I will be escorted to the cathedral in a bridal carriage drawn by Kallistê. Bridal carriages are small and draped in translucent white tulle and silk embroidered with golden thread. The bride sits inside and the carriage arrives after everyone is seated. Then she steps out, hopefully gracefully, and walks down the aisle.

It's tempting, even now as I walk down to the carriage, to fantasize about cantering away on Kallistê and never entering the cathedral, but of course, that is not an option. Even if I did decide to do that I wouldn't get far before I was caught. Not far at all.

I step into the carriage and seat myself on the cushioned bench. It begins to move forward almost immediately at a steady pace a little faster than a trot. I sit with my hands folded neatly in my lap and my head bowed, the veil hiding my face brushing my legs.

I almost feel like crying, but I know I can't do that either. The shame would be unbearable. And besides, everyone is busy pretending this is a happy union, that they're glad it's happening. They don't fool anyone, certainly not themselves. I don't understand why they bother, but it would be cruel to burst their happy little bubbles with my tears, cruel to make it hard for them to pretend.

Well, not exactly cruel, but inconvenient for them. And I want to be remembered as the girl who sacrificed her life to aid Lord Merikh's downfall, not the girl who was married as she cried and who was not half as pretty or brave as her sister.