Page 115 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

The guilt and despair that grips my chest is so strong, it’s as if my rib cage will snap under the pressure. I lift my gaze from the floor.

Tiffy cradles a white dress in her arms.

My heart thunders in my chest.

Today is my wedding day.

Today, I’ll be wed to a male that wants nothing to do with me.

I clench my jaw and grind my teeth. It’s all I can do to keep the air flowing through my lungs. I take a series of deep breaths, preparing myself for what I know will be the longest day of my life.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

It’s all too easy to feel sorry for myself. But I have no one else to blame. Though, I wish I could blame someone else. I wish I could be angry at Viridian. That I could curse his name and all he stands for.

But I can’t find it in myself to blame him for our situation.

I’m the one that ruined this day for us.

We both knew this day would come. Whether or not we wanted it to.

Still, neither of us could have known this is where we would stand when it came time to say, “I do.”

Tiffy lays the dress flat on my bed and lightly guides me into the washroom. I hold out my arms, and my ladies’ maids remove my nightgown. I step into the full tub, the hot water kissing my skin.

It’s the most sensation I’ve felt in days.

I sink lower into the tub until the water reaches my chin. I tilt my head back, so my hair is submerged. Tiffy gently pulls me up, so my scalp is above water, and begins to massage soap into my hair. While she does this, two of my other ladies’ maids scrub my arms, and two rub stones into the soles of my feet.

They finish and help me out of the tub. Once my hair is dry, Tiffy wraps me in a dressing robe and sits me down at my vanity table to style my hair.

I’ve sat here so many times before.

But I’ve never felt like this. As if I were in a waking nightmare, mindlessly going through the motions. I wish this really was a nightmare. Because if it were, then I could wake up. And none of it would be real.

“What would you like today, Miss?” Tiffy asks, running her fingers through my hair.

I shrug. “Whatever you think is best.”

Tiffy’s shoulders rise and fall with a single, deep breath. She just nods and presses her lips together. She waits a moment before separating my hair into sections. I watch her as she braids, twists, and pins hair to my head. Before I know it, delicate braids swirl and curve around my head.

Tiffy helps me to my feet, placing a small handheld mirror in my hand so I can see my reflection. The braids twist around each other and intertwine into an intricate style, while the rest of my hair hangs down my back in loose waves.

“It’s beautiful, Tiffy,” I tell her. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She dips her head. “Come,” she says softly, leading me to my bed. “Let’s get you dressed.”

Tiffy and my ladies’ maids help me into my wedding gown. They tighten the bodice, fastening it around my waist. The adjustments the seamstresses made hug my curves in all the right places, emphasizing my figure. Then, one of my ladies’ maids places a small tiara upon my head and a lovely chiffon veil over my face.

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