Page 11 of Their Witch Bride

All witches love this room, and not just because of how powerful it is. This is the room they were given their role in.

A small stage of smooth stone has been built on one side of the room. It’s where we all sit now, staring out at the Crystal Ballroom. All the most important witches and the families tied to the women on the stage are here, milling about. They’re excitedly talking to one another about what roles their children might be given.

The gazes of my fellow witches fall on me and it’s like an ocean wave crashing against me. I can feel their disdain. I can sense just how much they wish I was the princess that they expected. Being disliked by this many people while being exposed like this is daunting.

I swallow around the lump in my thought. Everything is going to be fine. And even if it isn’t, you’ll be fine. You always are. You can do this.

I decide to focus on the crystals growing out of the walls and on the rainbow of colors they’re reflecting around me. I won’t be looking below at the ocean of witches who all fit perfectly in the roles chosen for them, who all can use their magic flawlessly, who aren’t disappointments to the most powerful witch in our coven: my mother. It’s simply not good for me.

“No matter what, we’ll be fine,” Clio says softly beside me.

“The queen has never chosen the wrong role for a woman,” Lilac says beside her.

I guess maybe I’m not the only nervous one.

The Crystal Ceremony is a time-honored tradition in our coven. I remember attending the ceremony before I came of age and feeling so excited for each witch as she learned her role and accepted it with enthusiasm. No one ever seemed disappointed. Mostly. I think.

Maybe they did, but I couldn’t tell.

My stomach churns. Focus on the crystals, I tell myself.

“Clio!” her mother calls, waving.

Clio leaps from her chair and goes to the edge of the stage, hugging her tightly. They chatter together excitedly, holding hands, their faces glowing with excitement. Her father comes to her mother’s side, and then they’re all grinning at one another.

Everyone’s parents are here, excited to see what role my mother has chosen for them, beaming with pride over how powerful and wonderful their daughters are. I try to just be happy for them, and I am, but there’s hurt behind that happiness. My father is dead, and I know my mom isn’t feeling any of that about me. She’s probably been dreading this day as long as I have.

“Mom!” Lilac cries. Her mom passes me on the stage and hugs her daughter tightly.

“You’re going to do amazingly, because you’re amazing. You deserve all the best in this world.”

My pinky finger hurts. I stare down at it and realize that I’m staring through a veil of tears. Angrily, I blink them away. You cry or laugh, and I’m going to laugh.

I smile again as Lilac’s mom hesitates as our eyes catch. “Good luck today,” she tells me, her tone edged with pity.

My smile only widens. “Thank you. We all know I need it.”

She rushes away, like being near me is contagious.

For some reason, I wish Baldemar was allowed to come to the ceremony. I look out over the room realizing that if just one person was here who cared about me, it might not be so bad. Picturing him near the back, his warmth there, takes a little pressure off my chest.

He’s here with me. I’m not alone. Nothing is going to shake me. I am a statue with a smile carved on my face. I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath.

“Queen Keeva has arrived!” someone yells out. A low rumble erupts in the ballroom as everyone angles themselves to get a glimpse of my mother.

She emerges in the doorway. And even though she must have had to change on the road, she’s wearing an elegant blue dress, with her crown nestled in her dark hair. There’s not a trace of dust or dirt on her, probably due to magic, and there’s a triumphant look on her face. It’s obvious. She’s accomplished her goal. She made peace with the shifters. Holy hell. Everyone said it was impossible! Good for her. The smile on my face is real now. Baldemar is going to feel so relieved when he knows.

This changes everything for my people. It still seems impossible. The hate between our kind is like a sharp blade that only digs deeper with time. I’ve never met a shifter before, but from what I know, they’re cold and cruel, living only for the battle.

So, what could my mother offer for them to sign a peace agreement?

I take a deep breath as my mother comes closer to the stage, and my thoughts shift back to the present. My smile remains firmly in place, and I smooth down my dress, hoping I look okay. Because if I don’t, I’ll be sure to hear about it.

I’m determined to remain composed in front of my mother, but I also want answers, so I decide to take a chance. I stand up from my seat and walk over to her. She’s a picture of beauty and grace with her jet-black hair and her bright brown eyes. People crowd around her in all directions welcoming her back to her home. It’s a place filled with love for her, but there’s also an edge of fear in the air. As there always is when it comes to my mother.

I wait until enough of them step away, until there’s a small break from her adoring fans. This is it. Smile. Look nice. Don’t look down. Don’t sweat. Don’t stutter. She won’t like any of that.

“Mother, it’s so good to see you,” I say, grateful that my voice doesn’t shake. I open my arms to hug her and step forward.

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