Page 7 of When Kings Rise

“It’s already waiting.” Edward slips his hands behind his back. “I know how you like to leave as soon as possible.”

He does, but that doesn’t douse the suspicion that has risen in me. I nod and exit the mansion. Sure enough, my car is waiting. Once I’m inside, I take my phone out and look at the names of my three brides. I have to bring one of them to mass on Sunday.

I’m thinking of Selene, but remember she’s a troublemaker, and I don’t need to draw attention to myself. Amira has a darkness that I will explore, but not now. So I choose Niamh.

CHAPTER FOUR

Niamh

BLUE!

The color I adore, as it reminds me of the bottom of the swimming pool, a place where I can get lost in. There are no demands from the water; sounds are muffled, and at times, it silences my mind. My fingers tighten around the material, but the dress is too short for Sunday service. I fling it over my shoulder, and it joins the piles of dresses behind me.

The next item of clothing is a cream blouse, one my mother always hated as she declared it showed off far too much skin with its transparent material. This one I linger on longer, imagining her features pinching in complete disapproval.

I shake off the rebellious thought and throw the blouse onto the ground. A screech sounds, and I turn to see Scamps race out of the walk-in closet with the blouse covering his furry body.

I’m tempted to chase after the cat, but the sound of soft laughter has me staying put. “Come here, Scamps; what has she done to you?” My sister's soothing voice reaches my ears.

“Is she okay?” I call when I spot a silky blue scarf on the ground. I will take a piece of me to Sunday Service. I scoop it up off the floor and exit the walk-in closet with the only dress that falls below my knees. It will have to do. I nearly tumble across the piles of clothes that I have discarded in my search for appropriate clothing.

“She’s fine,” Ella speaks from my bed. She’s lying on her stomach with her phone in hand. She doesn’t look up at me as she grins and continues to scroll.

“You better not be posting that on social media,” I warn.

Ella has turned Scamps into a cat star, or so she likes to think.

Ella still doesn’t look up at me. “I won’t,” she lies.

I bet she snapped a picture of Scamps wearing my blouse.

I slip the dark blue dress over my head; it falls perfectly below my knee. I’ve already put on pantyhose, and I take the light silk scarf and tighten it around my neck. I have to return to the closet for my white gloves and hat. Once everything is on, I return to my bedroom.

“What do you think?” I ask.

For the first time, Ella looks up at me. Her eyes widen, and I feel like I’ve nailed it until she bursts out laughing. “What on God’s green earth are you wearing?”

I glance down at my dress and brush imaginary wrinkles away. Dolores, our housemaid, would be appalled to think everything wasn’t perfect; it always is, but my nerves are getting the best of me.

Ella rolls onto her back, her chuckles coming to a stop when she sits up, but she still wears a goofy smile. Her soft brown eyes and sandy blonde hair are identical to mine.

“Church clothes!” I hold my arms out as if to say, isn’t it obvious?

“It’s not the Christ child’s birthday, is it? No one goes to church like that on a September Sunday.”

I place my hands on my hips. “How would I know? We are not exactly church people. Besides, how would you know?”

Ella raises her phone, and I quickly try to grab the contraption before she takes a picture of me. She pulls it out of my reach, but I’m satisfied when she places it on my bed. “Every time I sleep over Riley’s house, her mother insists on us attending Mass in order to save my poor soul. Just put on a nice sweater and brush your teeth, and everyone will be cool with you. Trust me.”

I allow my hands to run across my dress one more time. Maybe this is too much. “Even if I am going with someone like Diarmuid O’Sullivan?” I hate how I stammer over his name. The memory of what I did with Selene turns my face red, and I dip my chin, the hat hopefully hiding my burning cheeks from my sister.

“I mean…maybe keep the dress? Definitely get rid of the gloves and hat. You look like Nan.” Ella’s voice has softened.

I pull off the hat and the gloves and sit down beside Ella on the bed. There is a comfortable silence between us. I imagine she’s thinking about how one day she may be handed over to a strange man just like me. It’s not the future I want for my sister. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and lean my head against hers. “What would I do without you?” She is the reason I am going through with this. I will not allow her to be handed over to a strange man. If I do this for our family's position, then she won’t have to.

“Probably end up with a husband with no teeth, especially if you dress like that.”

I release Ella as she chuckles again. The dress isn’t that bad. “Oh my God, let it go,” I warn her as I return to the mirror.

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