Page 84 of Tainted Saints

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up and ready for your future husband. You will walk in on the arm of your father, smiling like all brides do on their wedding day.” I sneer at her, uncaring of how ugly I must look at this moment.

“He. Is. Not. My. Father,” I grit out between clenched teeth, that flare of rage like a candle burning in my heart. “And you have never earned the title of mother, not in any way that matters.”

She recoils, her eyes tracing me before her trembling hands smooth down her outfit. Something befitting the mother of the bride, all lilac lace, and it fills my mouth with bile.

“Get her ready, Rosie,” she commands, her demeanour straightening and back to the cold woman that I’ve known my entire life. Then she, too, is gone, and like she took all my bravado with her, I slump, silent, useless tears tracking down my cheeks.

“Come now, Miss. Let’s get you sorted,” Rosie cajoles gently, leaving me, and the sound of the shower comes on a few moments later. She’s back by my side, helping me to stand and walking me over to the bathroom. “Best to do what they say for now, Miss.”

It’s as though time slows and speeds all at once, and the next time I look at myself, I’m in a white lace dress that flows around my body, in a style that I would have chosen if given a choice, and a long veil covering my face.

“You look stunning,” Bruna compliments as she adjusts my veil, her usually happy eyes full of sadness.

I don’t say anything back, no words will leave my mouth. What good will they do now? They’re gone, the ones who my soul yearns for, and nothing will bring them back.

“Time to go, Aspen,” my mother snaps from the door, and mutely, I follow her out and down the stairs to where the Ambassador waits. He gives me a callous once-over, nodding as if his approval means anything, and then we’re heading outside into the early spring sunshine.

It’s so at odds with how my morning has gone, how much has changed since I woke up, that I have to hold in a hysterical laugh. It’s easy to do, just remembering the reason for my desolation has me retreating into the numbness that I’m hoping will get me through the day.

All too soon, we’re pulling up outside a church that I’ve never even been to before today, so I guess money really can make the way smoother. My door is opened, the Ambassador there, placing my hand in the crook of his arm and it almost pulls me from my numbness.

Chills sweep over my body as we enter the cool building, the quiet murmur of the crowd drowned out by the playing of an organ. I’ve always hated organ music, but like with most things in my life, I wasn’t given a choice.

They gave you a choice…

I shut that shit down fast.This is not the place to break, Aspen.I look straight ahead, paying no attention to the crowds of people sitting in the pews. If this is an intimate affair, I’d hate to see what a large wedding would be like.

Before I know it, we’re at the front, Albert Pennington the Third waiting. He looks handsome in his suit, but there’s something off about him, a redness to his eyes that has me wondering what sorrow he’s facing today. A loud sniffle has me glancing to the front pew behind him, catching sight of his mother with a handkerchief to her eyes, but it doesn’t look like joy written across her features. No, her eyes are puffy, her spine bowed as another woman wraps an arm around her.

My attention is drawn back to Albert as the Ambassador places my hand in his, giving the younger man a squeeze on his shoulder.

“He would be proud, son,” the Ambassador says in a low voice to the younger man, Albert clenching his jaw and giving him a nod.

It’s enough to penetrate the numb fog that surrounds me, making me wonder what is going on. Of course no one has told me, although, maybe they did and I just wasn’t listening.

“Dearly beloved…” the vicar begins, drawing my gaze to the old man in his fancy embroidered robes. His words wash over me, my mind racing with what has happened this morning.

They’re gone…

I take a sharp breath, drawing the attention of Albert, my fiancé, but I don’t see him. All I can picture is Forest’s laughing face, Lan’s midnight eyes staring into my soul, and Blaine’s steady presence, always protecting me from any threat. Only, he’s not here. They’re not here, and I am the only one who can make sure they’re sacrifice isn’t in vain.

“If anyone sees any reason why these two shall not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the man continues, and like a tsunami, the words fall from my lips.

“No.” I look up, registering the shock on the old man’s face but it’s done and the relief I feel almost brings me to tears. “I don’t want this.”

“Aspen,” the Ambassador growls, but before he can take a step, the large doors at the entrance slam open, drawing everyone’s gaze to them.

My heart skips a beat as three men enter the church, and I blink several times to ensure that they are not ghosts or figments of my imagination.

“I object,” Lan’s deep voice booms, bouncing off the walls as he walks towards the front, his eyes on me. He looks like hell, his shirt covered in blood that has me frantically trying to see where his injuries lie.

“I object,” Blaine states next, and I look at him, seeing that he’s in not much better condition, and is supporting Forest as he limps down the aisle.

“I object,” Forest grits out, a sheen of sweat making his forehead glisten, his usually golden face pale and lined with pain. He’s shirtless, the arm not slung over Blaine’s shoulders is in a sling, and there’s a bandage over his right pec, a hint of red in the centre.

“Stop them!” the Ambassador roars, but no one does, and then Lan is before me, lifting my veil and cupping my face in hands that have dried blood underneath his nails.

“Y–you’re n–not dead,” I stutter, hardly able to take a breath as I trace his face with my gaze, my hands tentatively reaching up and brushing his cheeks. “They told me…” I can’t finish, my eyes full of tears as he leans down and places his lips on mine, proving that he is very much alive and here.

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