His Inheritance

Kiss the Bride

"It's almost time," Nat sang as she took you by the hands in the staging area they'd set up.

She looked unfairly beautiful in her forest green dress, her red hair framing her face in loose curls. Aside from your matron of honor and soon-to-be sister-in-law, you had six bridesmaids. You'd never seen a single one of them before in your life and it looked very much like Nat snatched them from a fashion runway.

You heard piano music, and it sounded like there were so many people in the room beyond, waiting for you to walk down that aisle...

"Are you okay?" Nat got on your eye level.

"As I'm going to be," you whispered. The huge bouquet of red roses shook in your hands, and you weren't sure at all about walking on the ridiculous heels the stylists had you in.

"You can do this," Nat told you with a smile. "You can. Just get through the ceremony, smile and wave, then we'll celebrate any way you want. Okay?"

You knew she meant well. The sincerity in her green eyes was hard to miss. You were just cold. And scared. And...

Dyson bustled up, giving you his trademark grin before getting the bridesmaids in line. When the wedding march started, your heart started racing. You struggled to breathe.

Nat took her place in front of you, casting you a worried glance over her shoulder.

At this point, you just hoped you didn't pass out.

"Hey," a deeper voice was close to your ear. "She's right. You can do this."

If you had to guess, you thought Yelena was probably around your age. Maybe a little older.

You appreciated the encouragement, but it wasn't her ass being forced into this situation. You'd trade places with her in a heartbeat, you realized.

"Take a deep breath," she told you in a tone that wouldn't accept refusal.

You did. When you felt her hands on your shoulders, you flinched. But her touch was careful. She pulled your shoulders back.

"Straighten your spine," she told you. "Hold your chin up and keep your eyes on Steve."

"That's easy for you to say," you whispered. There wasn't much of a sting in your voice.

"It is," Yelena told you. "But from a certain point of view, our situations are similar. You want their respect? Show no fear. March out there like you own the world. March up that aisle like you own him."

When cued by the wedding planner, Nat started moving.

"Remember who your father was," Yelena said. "Represent him and your family. You're not a victim if you choose not to be."

You couldn't meet her gaze. "What am I then?"

"You will be their queen," Yelena said meaningfully. "Go."

Dyson's smile was warm as he linked his arm with yours, urging you into motion.

"Your father would be so proud," he told you as you started that long walk.

"Would he?"

"I'm proud of you," Dyson told you.

As you reached the entranceway of the room, filled with people who turned to look at you, it was enough.

"Thank you," you whispered, "for everything."

You did as Yelena instructed. Your chin was high, your shoulders down and back. Relying on your dance training, you focused on your movements as you walked up the aisle. You kept your steps graceful, measured.