The Dresses Three

Chapter 14: Of Marriage

"So, we've had to come back here for her to finish the third dress," he explained.

"Only, what's the point now?" Mercy's mother said.

Lance cleared his throat, "Well, I guess it depends on if Mercy would see fit to marry me or not."

Mercy sat on the edge of her bed, listening.

"You'd still marry her? Even after all she's done to get out of the marriage?" her father asked.

"I never wanted to end contract, Sir. That was all Mercy and, because I love her, I want her to be happy, so I said nothing."

He loves me? Mercy thought, heart beating fast.

"You love her?" Mercy's mother asked, echoing her thoughts.

"I always have. Ever since we first dated."

Mercy sniffled, a tear running down her cheek. Her precious Jasmine was gone and now she found herself listening to a confession of love from one of her closest friends.

She wiped the tears away. I repeatedly said that I'd go through with it if I failed in my quest, she told herself. And, I have, though for no reasons of my own.

She drew a deep, shaky breath before standing and smoothing out the sunshine dress. She placed the satchel on the bed and washed her face. She ran a comb through her hair and then she could put off her decision no longer.

Mercy left her room and found the three of them sitting, each lost in their thoughts, staring into the fire. She cleared her throat.

"Lance?"

His head rose and he looked at her. The need was plain, his sorrow etched into his brow. "Yeah?"

"So, I, um, heard what you said."

"Oh." He turned back to the fire.

She came and stood in front of him so he had no choice but to see her. Yet, he moved his stare to his hands.

"Lance. Look at me."

"Why?"

"Well, because I have something to say."

"I know what you will say, Mercy. And I understand. I know that you'll finish the dress tomorrow, or the next day, and our contract will be broken. It's okay." His voice betrayed his actual emotion, however, with its strained tone, and his swallow revealed the lump in his throat.

"Lance..." Mercy reached for his hand, tugging on it to get his attention. He looked at her at last. "Lance, I won't pretend that I'm not heartbroken, and I can't pretend to love you as you want, but... marry me?"

He blinked and stared. "What?"

"Marry me," Mercy said, kneeling in front of him. "I'm devastated," she said with a slight sob from which she struggled to recover. "But, you are my closest friend to whom I am betrothed. And, over time, I may come to love you in the way you want. I don't know. I know, however, that I've never had a more loyal, kind, and selfless person in my life."

"So, you want to fulfill the contract?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes. I know that this is like saying that, if I can't have Jasmine, I'll settle for you, but..."

"I don't care about that, Mercy. I only care about you. That's always been true."

Mercy smiled at her friend and reached to caress his cheek. "I'll need some time, though. I have to let go of Jasmine before I'll be ready."

"Take as long as you need, Mercy. I'll be here. Just..."

"What?"

"Don't make that third dress, okay?"

She couldn't help but smile then, if watery. "Yeah, okay, not until after we're married. I will make it then; I feel compelled to do it."

He smiled at her and touched her hair. "I know. And that's just one of the many reasons I love you; you are as dedicated to your craft as I am to mine."

"So, we are in agreement? A suitably long engagement, as much as they will allow? And no stardust dress until after the wedding?"

"Agreed! Now come here. I know that talking about our marriage isn't what you need, or really want, right now."

Mercy's face clouded, her eyes glassy as she blinked back tears. He pulled her onto his lap and into his arms and held her as her tears fell.

Her parents excused themselves from the room, leaving them alone in front of the fire. Mercy silently cried herself to exhaustion once more.

"Thank you, Lance."

"For what?"

"For being you."

He kissed her head. "I love you, Mercy."

"I know. I care for you a great deal," she said, moving to look up at him. "Will that be enough for a while?"

"That will be enough."