Between Mirrors and Roses (A Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction) ✓

29: A Wedding

Christine

The morning of my wedding passed in a blur. The Girys took the day off and came over. Jeanette shooed Erik out of the house, saying that it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony.

We had been sleeping in different rooms all week so that Jeanette didn't catch us together. I regretted that I couldn't see him; I wanted him to hold my hand and tell me everything would be all right. I suspected he'd be holed up at Nadir's all day.

My head spun as the three women whirled around me, bringing me food and chatting.

"Are you nervous, dear?" Giry asked.

I nodded, my throat too thick for speech.

"Do not be. You will be very happy with him."

"Of course she will," added Meg, handing me a glass of water. "She talks about nothing but him."

I blushed at this description of me, admitting that it did have truth to it. "You two must visit often," I told them. "You are my only friends, and I don't want to lose you."

"Oh, Christine," Mme Giry said, taking my hand. "This is not the end of our friendship but the start of a new chapter. We will always be here for you."

I squeezed her hand gratefully. Erik may have been absent, but I wasn't alone. These women loved me.

I spent the morning in anxious anticipation. I tried to rest as much as possible since I'd tossed and turned the previous night. I didn't worry that I had made the wrong choice—I loved Erik with my whole heart—but a year ago I would have laughed at the idea of marriage. So much had changed in my life.

The four of us had lunch together on a dropcloth-covered table in the kitchen. Jeanette was horrified at the state of the house ("We have GUESTS! What will they THINK?"), but the Girys assured her that they did not mind the half-furnished house in the slightest. Jeanette also tried to cook for and serve us by herself, but we insisted on helping the flustered maid.

I enjoyed the lighthearted banter around the kitchen as we all worked together.

Then, it was finally time to get ready; the ladies plopped me down in a chair in my room and started on my hair and makeup. I wasn't allowed to do a thing to my appearance. Meg did my makeup, while the older women curled and piled my hair elaborately on my head. I was helped carefully into my dress, and Meg laced it tightly up my back. Giry carefully placed my veil on my head.

When I was finally allowed to look in the mirror, my breath caught in my throat. I was stunning.

Meg had erased my features and repainted them, highlighting every part of my face that I loved. Jeanette and Giry had tamed my mane of hair. Several curls hung loosely around my face, and the rest was coiled into an elegant coif. My skirts rustled like the sound of steady rain.

"Oh thank you," I breathed, tears welling up in my eyes. It was cliché, but I felt like a princess in a fairytale.

It was nearing late afternoon, and Jeanette tried to force some soup into me.

I thought I would be sick if I ate anything, but out of politeness, I finished half the bowl.

Jeanette wished to stay and clean, though we tried to persuade her to come. She thanked us for the invitation but said there was too much work to be done around the house.

The Girys and I piled into a carriage, the former being careful not to step on my dress.

I bounced my leg, overflowing with anxious excitement.