𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺 - 𝑹.𝑵𝑰𝑲𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑰

chapter 39

"Who's invited to the wedding?" Sigma asked casually, though there was a small crease between his brows. He sat nearby, stealing a glance through the mirror as the staff carefully worked on your makeup and adjusted the final curls of your styled hair.

You exhaled softly, eyes downcast for a moment as you thought.

"Well... my mother," you began, voice quieter than usual, "who I haven't seen my entire life. But now she asks for an invitation?" You let out a bitter laugh, light but sharp. "I mean... I am mad. She didn't want me then, and now suddenly she wants to show up when things look pretty?"

The brush paused briefly on your cheek before continuing again with soft strokes.

"But I do want to prove to her how good I've become," you admitted, voice lowering into something more vulnerable. "To show her I made it without her."

Sigma nodded silently, listening with a softness only he could give — the kind that said he understood without needing to say so.

"And the rest..." you continued, trying to shift the energy, "are all Nikolai's ideas. I'm not sure he has any other friends but you and Fyodor."

Sigma cracked a dry smile. "He invited the illusion of friends once. Literally conjured people to a fake party just to avoid saying he was lonely."

You let out a surprised snort-laugh. "That sounds exactly like him."

"He also wanted a mime and two goats to be in the front row," Sigma added, completely serious. "I vetoed that. You're welcome."

You gave him a look of pure gratitude. "Bless you."

He leaned in a little with a smirk. "Also... did you know he wanted the flower girl to be a clown on a unicycle?"

You groaned, "Of course he did."

Sigma gave a warm chuckle, but there was a fond glimmer in his gaze as he watched you — the kind that said despite everything, the madness and chaos, this day meant something. You were radiant. And maybe even Nikolai, in his strange, wild way, deserved this happiness too.

"But... it is definitely a surprise," you murmured, stealing a nervous glance at Sigma through the mirror. "Since you and him decorated the venue. I'm still scared to see what kind of circus I'm walking into..."

Your wings gave the faintest flutter, betraying your nerves. A stylist stepped back to give you space to breathe as you placed a hand on your stomach, grounding yourself.

"Please," you said, exhaling shakily, "don't embarrass me. I told Nikolai so many times. So many. 'No confetti canons during the vows,' 'no trapdoors,' 'no doves with knives'—"

Sigma raised a hand solemnly. "I swear. No clown cars. No glitter bombs. No fog machines."

You narrowed your eyes. "You paused after clown cars."

"I didn't want to lie and say there weren't any—he rolled one in while I was arguing with the guy about aerial silk rigging," he said flatly.

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. "Oh my god. I'm going to marry someone who wanted a tightrope walk entrance, aren't I?"

"You are." Sigma patted your back gently. "But you also love him. For all his chaos and fire and color... you love him."

You slowly peeked over your fingers.

"...I do," you whispered, a tiny smile slipping in despite yourself.